Shooting Stars

Dude, there is so much cheese and craziness in this chapter! I want to thank you reviewers for being so damn patient with me! You guys rock my pajamas off :D I don't know why, but I've been saying that quite often:P. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, despite the weird, awkward moments, and that you'll review it to let me know what you guys are thinking. Feel free to give ideas or speculations of what might happen. I like to see what my reviewers are thinking, so maybe I'll follow your words, or do a complete 180 on you! It all depends on how I'm feeling….. right now, I'm feeling EVIL. MUAHAHA…. Okay, I'll stop attempting to scare and stall you. Read on!

P.S. Spelling/Grammar mistakes may be present! Sorry. Wrote this in thirty minutes when I realized I didn't even update this storrryy!

Chapter 5: Anger Beneath the Broken Flesh

Cam rested her head on her school desk looking out the window. She watched as the fresh snow fell down adding a new layer to the snow that was already settled. She breathed out, her timid voice being faintly heard as it cracked. Today was a most peculiar one. When she awoke from her slumber, she discovered that no one was in the house. She guessed that everyone was at the hospital, or they were out to kill someone. After all, that's what she had heard them talking about downstairs. Someone by the name of Sweet…….. Boy, did that seem to be ironic.

She was about to press her hands together to crack her knuckles, but decided against it. There was an abundance of bandages enveloping her sore, left hand. That's where the deepest cut resided; right at the base of her palm on the left hand. She remembered reaching her hands out to prevent the shards of glass from hitting her face. Of course, reaching her hands out didn't help anyway, since her fingers were stretched extensively apart. That didn't matter though because at that fleeting moment, she was so scared that she couldn't even feel the glass piercing her skin. All that was felt was anxiety and fear, and those emotions surely kept her reoccupied enough.

"Ms. Winthrop, do you know the answer?" Her philosophy teacher, Mr. Dayton, asked smirking. Philosophy 'was' her best and 'oh-so beloved' subject at private school, yet in Detroit, it suddenly turned out to be the most unfavorable one. Her teacher was always out to get her. He always wanted to make a fool out of her. 'Rich children always think they have a clean break,' he'd say, and would specifically glance at her every time he'd say it. Nonetheless, she still had a pint of fascination when it came to Philosophy and was happy and surprised to find that they had the subject in grade 11 to 12.

She turned her attention back to the teacher, and for the first time, she replied with a negative response. She was in no mood to answer. "No, I don't."

He tried not to show that hint of delight once he heard her answer, "I'm very disappointed to hear that." He continued to ask other students for the answer that 'Cam so humbly couldn't give'.

She craned her neck, so her hair fell down in front of her face. "No, you're not," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" He folded his arms. When she glanced up, she couldn't tell if he was smirking or if he held a suspicious look.

Cam wanted so badly to retaliate again, but knew it was not the right time to do so. She decided to answer, "I was just thinking. I don't think what Mark is saying is the answer….."

"And suddenly you know what it is?" He asked. "Please, do tell us."

Getting ready to speak, she cleared her throat. "You can't prove your existence by talking to someone. What if that person is a figment of your imagination? Rene Descartes once said………"

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"……gosh, I think I'm killing you with boredom," Cam's voice cracked, staring at Jack. There was still that feeling at the pit of her stomach…………like something he had done was wrong. She still felt angry, and she hated that. Jack was shot, in a coma, and all she could feel were these resentful feelings toward him. Maybe the reason she felt this way was because she 'felt' obligated to see Jack all the time………Of course, she wasn't that heartless, but it continued to be her excuse as to why she felt so mad towards the boy.

"……Jack, I don't hate you……but- I just. Yeah, I think I do." She whispered, and laughed curtly. And although it was a whisper she was sure he couldn't hear, it sounded louder than a siren to her.

"You took away my one chance to see my parents, and now,….well, I'm still stuck in this shitass place. Why do you do this to me? I don't even know who the fuck you are. Why are you doing this to me?" She began to get a pitch louder. "I never even got to spend real time with them……….I was always at my private school, and I just had one year to graduate, and then I could spend all the time I wanted with them……… I'll never get to know them anymore.

"Sometimes, I'd sneak out of the school at night, and take a cab to their house…I'd just stare from out the window and think how much I hated them… I never did. I was just eager. I wanted to feel loved… I needed it; I was so desperate for it, the attention. I never had that, and I was so jealous of my friends…" She felt a lump start to rise up in her throat, and she paused.

For once, she slid her hand into his, "If you happen to see them, I really need you to tell them that I love them…… and that I never hated them. There was not one minute in my life where I didn't love them…… even when I was PMSing…………"

Her eyes were frozen, fixated on Jack's sleeping façade, and at that moment, she felt another crack vibrate through her heart. "Why did you do it?" Her voice quivered, "You could have just let me die. Why did you push me out of the way? I mean- any sane person would just let me stand there."

She sighed, holding his hand gently. However, at that exact moment, she immediately threw Jack's hand off her. She didn't know if it was from lack of sleep, but she could have sworn she felt Jack squeeze her hand.

Her eyes widened, and she started to talk a mile a minute, "Okay………I think I better head home now… I'm starting to hallucinate things a- never mind. Just wake up soon…" And then she zoomed out the room. But, it was funny……… At first, she spoke with the intention of hope that he would hear her, and now, she didn't really want him to wake up that soon because if he did, he might of actually heard what she had just said.

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Frozen almost permanently onto the bench seat, Cam leered at the hospital fro afar. She was determined to visit Jack once again.

It was a three full weeks after the shooting, and she couldn't even bring herself to visit that hospital because now he was awake. Of course, she visited every single day before that, but now, the closest she could go was only to the secretary's office, and now, all she could do was sit at the bench 'near the hospital'. The secretary told her that Jack was awake about a week and a half ago, and it was right after she left on her last visit. That's what scared her. She knew that he had some recollection of her one-sided conversation. That was the one she was hoping she would forget. She had poured almost everything out to him.

She had started to tell him about how the bullet was made for her, and how made she was mad at him for being such a jackass; for stepping in the way and getting shot. What if he was awake during that conversation? But there was no use asking that question, for she knew that even if he was not fully awake he must have caught some words. After all, she had gotten word from the secretary that his mind and senses were conscious some hours before he awoke.

She sighed. She would have gotten shot in the head, since she reached up right at Jack's shoulder and she was covering him there. Getting shot in the head was like a definite 'in' at the afterlife. She might be able to see her parents. Might. She wasn't that 'in' on believing that you'd go to heaven if you died, but her parents believed it, and her parents had never been wrong before. She just wanted to see them again. It could even be for just a small moment. She just wanted one last time too look at them and say sorry. She wanted to be able to think of them as they were…..not how they died. That's all she could think about; her holding their cold, dead hands as they rested peacefully on the hospital bed.

She exhaled loudly, breathed out long, and made her way through the hospital. Taking the elevator, and a few left and rights, she made it to the secretary, who gave that same concerned smiled.

"He's in room 206 now, sweetie." The secretary then proceeded to smile warmly, "Good luck."

Cam nodded her head and mouthed a 'Thank you'. She walked slowly to the door, trying to turn around ever so often. 'Snap out of it, Cam,' she scolded herself. She felt scared, but it was more of a kid-ish kind of fear. It was like when you broke your mom's favorite vase, and you had to own up to it. She had to fess up to her sins…..to Jack. 'Isn't that what a priest is for,' she reasoned with herself. She scolded herself again.

As she peaked through the window of room 206, she realized that the secretary forgot to add in a little detail. Jack's brothers, Sofi and another girl were already in the room. By the looks of things, the blonde was Jack's girlfriend. She held his hand tightly, and looked lovingly towards him. Everything looked too….. 'perfect' and 'sweet'. If she walked into the room, everything would die. She just knew it.

She turned her back against the cool wall and sank. She sat there for thirty more minutes thinking of how her conversation would start and end with Jack……she had no such luck, and her conversation skills seemed to have been diminishing. She started to bite her nails again, until she heard the door open. She looked up to find everyone exiting the room.

Angel shook his head, "Finally." Finally, she was going to see Jack.

Clearly not hearing what Angel had just said, Bobby slapped his hands together, "Fina-fucking-ly." He slipped on his jacket, "Don't be surprised if he doesn't wake up. Fairy's off in wetland, or should I say, wet-dream territory right now. Damn boy can't even stay up now."

The blond rolled her eyes, "First of all, Jack is not gay, and I will keep telling you that until it cracks through your hard skull. Secondly, you were too busy dissing Sofi over here that you put Jack to sleep." She took another breath and looked back at Cam, "And, by the way, I'm Patricia Myers, Jack's girlfriend."

Cam shook her head, "Camilla Winthrop."

"Don't get all defensive now, Pat," Jerry smirked looking from Patricia to Cam, "Jackie's a one-woman guy." At this, he smiled knowing either Bobby or Angel would cut in to add.

Cam smiled, looking towards the door. She wasn't exactly sure what Angel had said, but it was enough to cause steam to pour out of Patricia's ears. Jerry, Angel and Bobby were laughing as Pat and Sofi growled. With that, the Mercer's fled as the girls chased them down. This surely caused a whole disruption with the hospital, and Cam was sure that by the time they reached the lobby, they'd be in trouble.

She took a deep breath, walked briskly into that room and shut the door. She sat on a chair right beside Jack's bed and watched him as he slept……until she figured that she probably looked like some freaky stalker. She threw her elbows onto the bed, and rested her head on her right hand as she poked Jack around the face with her left hand.

He winced and tried to change positions, but found that moving became awkward. "…….uhhhh…." he groaned as he opened his eyes. He must have squinted a thousand times just to make sure it was really Camilla who was sitting there.

"It's you." He smirked, steadying himself so he could sit up. When he looked at her, all he could remember was her ruthless, yet selflessly concerned attitude that day when she had saved him. She kept shouting at him frantically with attitude, resembling a womanly figure of Bobby.

She chuckled, still resting her head on her hand, "Yeah, it's me. How are you?"

He gave a stoned, bland expression, and then she got the hint. She chortled lightly, "Okay, bad question."

He chuckled, smiling just a bit. She hadn't seen him smile like that before. Actually, this was probably the most she'd interacted with Jack, besides the shooting. "You look…… different."

She shrugged, "I got bangs." She pointed to her hair. However, the only reason why she got them was because the majority of the cuts resided on her forehead, and damn, they sure did look pretty disgusting.

"Hmm…. I guess that's it." He shrugged, "How much damage?"

She hesitantly swiped her bangs and hair out of her face, and revealed her hands. She then lifted her shirt a bit, to reveal some bandages around her stomach/abdomen.

He laughed, "Shit, you look like a raccoon tried to scrape your eyes out. Good thing you got those bangs because you look-"

"Okay, I get it smartass," She smiled, " It's nothing compared to you though."

"Well, you would have gotten worse…….." He shrugged, "You could have got shot in the head."

She leaned back into the chair, "That was kind of the point. I-"

"-hate me?" Jack said absentmindedly as he reached out to take a pack a cigarettes, but she grabbed them from him.

"Not what I was going to say, but…. Exactly how much did you hear?" She asked him. She knew it, and she had to wonder why she even asked. He heard everything she said that day.

He stared on at the cigarettes and then back at Cam, "Every word."

She began to retaliate herself, so she wouldn't look like a complete jackass, "I-"

He signaled her to stop. "Don't," He positioned himself again, "I know. It was just…..the moment."

Silence rained on them for what seemed like eternity. Really, it was only about a maximum of five minutes. Five really long minutes.

She gathered what she was going to say and began, "I know that Bobby probably told you guys that our family was pretty close knit and that we were like the Brady Bunch, and as much as I love that idea, we kind of weren't. Well, they were, but I wasn't apart of it. Our family sang to this high class, rich ass, money-making, education-before-love mantra. So, since I really wasn't done my education, I didn't get much love from my parents. They shipped me off to private school, they were on business during the summer, and I saw them on holidays. That was basically how we communicated. You'd think I hate them," she smiled, her hand resting on her hand, "but I was so desperate that I'd count down the days to Christmas, thanksgiving, birthdays, Easter, anything, just so I got the chance to see them."

He grinned, "Ah, so you're really not a jackass?"

She rolled her eyes, "Well, if you want to see that side, all-"

He laughed, "Okay, okay……tell me more."

After glaring at him for a second, she began again, "Well….hmmm….. my mother was quite a bit younger than my dad, but you could tell they still loved each other. She was beautiful, he was funny, and of course, I found myself drawn to them every time we met. To me, they were like your typical popular people at school and I was the usual follower. I just wanted to be accepted by them, and that time would come. In our family, when you're done high school, it means freedom. You can work at the family corporation, while taking some courses at NYU. On top of that, you can spend all the time you want with the parents. That appealed to me the most, so getting out of high school became my dream…." She sighed, "Of course, that never happened."

"If you died, do you really think that you would see them?" He asked, and then he recoiled, "I mean, it's just, you never seemed like-"

"I know…. But, even if I'm not really that Catholic, my parents were. They always told me that after death, there was a place much better than this one. I think I just always believed them. So, I guess that's why I wanted to die…… I just wanted to go to a better place. Any place…or world better than this one." She answered.

He agreed, "I feel like dying everyday when I don't see her." He looked out the window; obviously this was a sore subject.

"But, you're strong, you know that?" She curled herself onto the chair, and rested her head on her knees. "If I stayed home, reliving all those memories all at once……it'd be all too…."

"….weird?" He inquired.

"Yeah, like nothing is different. Like it's all the same," she sighed, "but then everything just becomes this huge mistrial because I can't get things the way they used to be….I just, I can't get anything right anymore."

A moment of silence collapsed until Jack broke it, "Maybe sometimes….it's okay to be wrong just because there are people there to help you get it right." When he said that, he immediately thought of Evelyn. Yes, it did sound like something she would say……but that statement was his life. He couldn't do anything right and he felt a mess before Evelyn; kind of like how Cam was feeling. He thought he could handle things all by himself, but he was wrong. All he ended up doing was creating a bigger mess out of his life. When he let Evelyn in, everything became fresh again, and he was able to be the person he always wanted to be….. The person Evelyn wanted him to grow up to be.

She smiled sadly, finding great sense to what he said. Again the silence rained. She curled her legs, "Thank you…."

"For what?"

She held her hand up to her chin, "Well, for giving me a reason to get away from Bobby's cooking of course…… and, for saving my life."

He laughed. "I should be saying the same thing. You did bring me to the hospital too…..….. But, it was nothing," he said casually.

She laughed, and then they began to talk some more about their pasts, but they didn't push much further from what everyone around them already knew. It was a casual conversation, and Cam was happy about that.

"So, I saw your girlfriend…..you're not gay after all." She retained her current position, and rested her head on her knees.

He rolled his eyes, "You actually thought." He didn't even have to finish his sentence, as he was currently out of words.

She shrugged, "I don't know. I just assumed they were bugging you for a reason……" She continued, "and…..it's not like you're denying it, right?" There was a small silence, as her eyes stilled stared on Jack with a small smirk grazing her lips. Soon, through the once felt sadness, she started to laugh. Maybe things would turn out right. Just maybe.