The Finish Line
I, I thought I knew it all,
I've been through the highs, said all my goodbyes,
Learned to run before I learned to crawl.
::
Cammie lay in bed, staring at the blank ceiling, knowing that Zach had left.
Again.
It was never a surprise to her. She would wake up, hoping to find comfort in his familiar scent. Instead, she would be met by the faint, lingering scent of him, in the empty space on the bed.
They were at a breaking point. They always were, always would be. They didn't know it any other way.
Zach would return home one night, kiss her on the cheek, and repeatedly tell her that he loved her.
The next day, she would find a girl, in her spot of the bed, naked, pressed against her boyfriend.
::
It's not worth fighting for, if one is sure,
And one of us is dying, trying to find love's cure.
::
Cammie flipped over, looking tiredly at the custom-made calendar.
June. A picture of them stared back at her. They were laughing and smiling.
They were in love.
Yes, there had been a point where the two of them had been in love. Madly and deeply in love. They were so in love, no one believed that they could fall out of love.
But they had.
Zach lost interest. He would constantly bring home women, ones that looked almost exactly like her, and she knew he wasn't drunk. Zach didn't like to drink.
So what was wrong? What had she done wrong? What did those girls have that she didn't?
::
I, have waited all my life, to paint these cities red,
Thoughts I have always had here, are stuck inside my head.
It's not worth waiting for, if one of us wants more,
And one of us is dying, trying, to find love's door.
::
Tears had begun to stream down her face. There had been time where Zach would've been at her side instantaneously, holding her in comfort.
But he wasn't.
Cammie sat in the living room, staring out over the New York skyline.
Dark, wet raindrops began hitting the glass.
Pitter, patter.
Pitter, patter.
Thunder rolled, and lightning struck.
Cammie wondered when Zach would get home tonight, if he even did.
::
When we learn how to fly, we forget how to walk,
When we learn how to sing, we don't wanna hear each other talk.
::
Cammie walked out of the penthouse apartment, leaving the key on the nightstand.
She rolled the black suitcase out into the hallway, with her large purse hanging off her shoulder. The time on her phone blinked at her, almost as if it was warning her about something.
She hoped Zach wouldn't see her leaving.
In fact, she hoped that she wouldn't see him ever again.
She had been broken too many times, and she was tired of it. She couldn't let fear and remorse control her life like this.
She asked the lobby guy, Hector (at least, that's what she thought his name was), to get a taxi here, fast.
Cammie was done. She was finished. She wasn't going to wait forever, waiting for Zach to someday, somehow, love her once again.
::
Here we are at the finish line, ah,
Here we are at the finish line.
::
It was still raining when the cab arrived. Pouring, actually. The trench coat Cammie wore was already soaking wet, and her wet blonde hair was plastered to the back of her neck. She stepped into the cab, and silently said goodbye. She quickly spit out Macey's address to the driver, tossing her belongings in.
"What's a lovely lady like you doing, leaving a building like that?" the driver asked, driving away.
Cammie gave a small laugh. "It's complicated."
The driver clicked his tongue. "Ah, I've heard that many, many times, miss. Love problems?" he questioned.
Cammie looked at him, shocked. "How did you know?"
The driver's prominent New York accent came out. "Darling, I've seen my fair share of crying, broken-hearted girls."
"I'm not broken-hearted," Cammie said defensively.
"Honey, whoever this boy is, you know deep down inside that he's the one for you," the driver said, obviously testing her patience.
::
And you, you really thought you knew,
Everything to do,
With holding on to me, and holding on,
This time, is making slip right, through your hands,
And you don't understand,
Trying to find love all yourself.
::
"That'll be $20.64 at three dollars per minute rate, miss," the driver said, helping her get her suitcase out of the yellow cab. By now, it was nearly one in the morning, and Cammie was silently praying that Macey wouldn't chew her head off for showing up on her doorstep, dripping wet.
Cammie handed him thirty dollars. "Keep the change. Thank you for your help, sir," she said, smiling, and entering the building.
The receptionist at the front gave a Cammie a funny look before she told him that she was Macey McHenry's best friend. On that note, he let her up, and even handed her a $50 gift card.
Cammie walked towards the elevator, hauling her heavy suitcase.
The bell rung, and the door opened, and she stepped in.
Right before the doors closed, she could've sworn she saw her boyfriend run through the lobby.
She quickly pressed the button, and the elevator began shooting upwards, heading towards the top floor. Her foot tapped impatiently on the hard marble floor of the elevator, but her heart was racing, fear washing over her.
The elevator stopped moving, and the doors opened.
Cammie dashed out, heading towards Macey's penthouse, banging on her door. She didn't care if her best friend would be mad at her for disturbing her beauty sleep anymore.
A drowsy Macey McHenry opened the door. "Cam? What are you doing here?" she said, her eyelids still half-closed.
She pushed past the door. "Shut the door, Mace. Whatever you do, don't let Zach in."
Macey shut the door, then turned to Cammie.
"Remind me again why you're my best friend? I'm pretty sure best friends don't wake each other up at one in the morning."
Cammie sighed, tossing her purse onto the couch. "I finally decided to leave Zach, if that's any news for you."
Macey gasped. "HOLY SHIT, WOMAN. YOU DUMPED ZACH?!"
"Be quiet, Mace!" Cammie hissed. "People are sleeping."
Macey scoffed. "I own the whole floor, Cams. The only person I'm going to wake up is me."
Cammie waved Macey away. "I'll explain in the morning, Mace. I'm freezing, wet, tired, and in desperate need of a shower. Can I borrow your guest room?"
Macey sighed, not happy with Cammie's secretive nature.
"Fine, but don't expect me to be happy with you tomorrow."
::
When we learn how to fly, we forget how to walk,
When we learn how to sing, we don't wanna hear each other talk,
When we know what we want, we forget what we need,
When you find who you are, you forget about me.
::
When Cammie stepped out of the shower, it was safe to say that she was not expecting to see her boyfriend sitting on her bed, waiting expectantly.
"Zach!" she screeched, self-consciously wrapping the towel tighter. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
Zach shrugged. "Macey let me in."
Cammie stormed outside. "Macey!"
Macey poked her head out from her room, anticipating the coming question. "What? He offered to buy me three new Prada bags."
Cammie rolled her eyes, stepping back into her room.
"Zach- Get out."
"Why?"
"I need to change," she said, rummaging through her luggage to find her clothes.
"So?" The smirk appeared.
Cammie glared at him. "Out."
Zach leaned back onto the bed. "I'm not leaving, whether you like it or not. We need to talk, and you know that."
She rolled her eyes. "And you realize that now?" she said disbelievingly. Cammie stepped back into the bathroom, putting her clothes on, and tossing the wet ones into the hamper.
Zach still lay on her bed. "Zach, get out. I need to sleep."
"Then I'll sleep with you," he said, a smirk gracing his lips.
"Zach," she hissed, her face stony cold.
Zach gave her a small smile. "We have to talk, Gallagher Girl."
Cammie pushed him off the bed in response, and climbed in.
"Ow."
Zach got up, ignoring the throbbing feeling in his head. "Cammie."
She had already fallen asleep, and Zach sighed, getting in with her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her against him.
Here we are at the finish line.
Cammie woke up the next morning, extremely tired.
Something was different.
Her hand reached instinctively to her side, and was met by the soft fabric of someone's shirt.
She turned over, and surprisingly, her boyfriend was there. In flesh and blood.
He hadn't left.
"Good morning, Gallagher Girl."
Cammie was still staring at her full-clothed boyfriend. "Morning, Zach," she squeaked.
Zach got out of bed. "I still think we need to talk."
Cammie stuffed her face into her pillow. "There's nothing to talk about, Zach. I left you, and I'm pretty sure you know why."
Zach gave a slight smile. "Cammie, I really do care about you."
"Well, you have a fucking weird way of showing it."
Zach paused. "Let me rephrase that: Cammie, I really love you."
Cammie looked at him.
Seconds later, Zach was hit by a pillow. "Ow! What was that for?"
"You lied straight to my face, that's what."
"I'm not lying!" Zach cried indignantly.
"Yeah, and I can cook," Cammie said sarcastically. "Really, Zach. You don't have to lie to get into my pants. You're as hot enough as it is."
Zach raised an eyebrow, surprised by her outburst, but decided to let it go.
"Gallagher Girl, I'm not trying to get into your pants."
Cammie scoffed. "Really? I'm pretty sure 'I love you' in your language means 'I want to be fucked right now', if I'm not mistaken."
"I really do love you."
She looked at him like he was crazy. "You're demented, really."
"Well, then we can be demented together," Zach said, smirking.
Cammie sat up in the bed. "I'm serious, Zach. We're messed up; both of us. You don't really want me. You can have anyone in the world, and you do not want a person like me."
"You're right. I can have anyone in the world. But that's not changing anything, Cam," he said.
She noticed the way her name rolled off his tongue so smoothly, as if he could say it all day.
Zach took her hands in his. Their hands fit in each other's perfectly.
"Gallagher Girl, There is no one else in this world I love more than you."
Here we are at the finish line.
"Zach, you make it terribly difficult to hate you when you say those things."
Zach raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm trying to get you to hate me?"
"Well, those things are implied when your 'boyfriend' brings home a slut every night."
He blushed, and apologized for being a jerk.
"A jerk? Just being a jerk? Oh, you've done a hell of a lot more than that, Goode," Cammie seethed.
"Fine, I'm sorry for everything, okay?"
Cammie was silent, and Zach stood there, watching her.
"What are we doing, Zach?" Cammie whispered.
"We're talking, Cammie. That's what couples do. They talk."
Cammie looked at Zach.
"Zach, we're not a couple. We can hardly stand each other."
Zach smiled. "But that's what makes us a couple, isn't it?"
"NO! It isn't, Zach!" Cammie burst out. "Couples are supposed to be in love, to actually care for each other. If you haven't realized it already, we don't do those kinds of things. You bring home a girl every night, and I'm expected to deal with that! Does it even occur to you that I might not be happy with that?" she cried. Her face softened, as did her voice. "Did you ever think that I might have loved you?"
"Loved?"
Cammie rolled her eyes. "Love, Zach. I love you."
Zach leaned against the door. "Hmmm…. Well, that sounds all too familiar to me. Love. Where have I heard someone say that before? Gee, I think it might've been me," he said, grinning. "Cammie! Oh, here you are! Do you have any idea of who I might love?" he asked, a playful smirk appearing.
Cammie got out of bed, wrapping her arms around Zach. "It's me, you dumbass. You love me."
Zach pulled away from her. "I do?"
Cammie glared at him.
"Okay, fine. I do," he said, giving in, and wrapping his arms around her.
"I'm in love with you, Gallagher Girl."
Macey darted into the room. "Good! Now that you two have made up, Zach can go buy me those bags!"
The three of them laughed, and headed out the door.
Here we are at the finish line.
::
A/N: That was my first one-shot EVER.
The song is The Finish Line by Train.
I was listening to this song, and I felt this sudden urge to write this whole thing.
So, I did. Wrote this thing in 20 minutes flat.
Hope you guys liked it!
Let me know if you guys want me to keep writing occasional song-fics or one-shots.
Please review, and check out my other stories: When the Glasses Fall and The Model Within.
~ilovemesomecupcakes