truth or dare - game on series #1

Cameron

The hospital waiting room was too damn quiet.

Which didn't make sense, because my head was loud.

It was just us—me, Olivia, Drew, Liam, Luke, and Bree—sitting in these shitty plastic chairs, waiting for someone to tell us anything.

I still couldn't shake the image.

Stella. On the floor. Convulsing.

Her body jerking in ways that didn't make sense. The sound of her head hitting the tile. The way her fingers twisted, like her own body wasn't her own anymore.

And me? I did nothing.

I fucking froze.

I could still hear Bree's scream. Call the ambulance, Cameron!

But I hadn't. Luke had. Because I was too fucking useless to do it.

My leg bounced as I sat forward, elbows on my knees, trying to breathe through it.

"Dude," Drew said beside me, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "She's gonna be fine. The seizure stopped before the paramedics even got there."

I shrugged his hand off. "You don't fucking know that."

Liam sighed. "Man, you're spiraling."

"Of course I'm spiraling!" I snapped, looking up at them. "I just watched—" My voice caught, and I swallowed hard. "I watched her—"

Nope. Couldn't even say it.

No one knew what to say after that.

I turned to Bree. "How long has she had this?" My voice was rough, and I could feel my hands shaking.

Bree exhaled, crossing her arms. "Since she was a kid."

I clenched my jaw. Since she was a kid? And I never knew?

"Why didn't she tell me?" My voice was too loud, too sharp. But I didn't care.

Bree's eyes narrowed. "You seriously have to ask that?"

I pressed my palms against my forehead. "Jesus Christ."

"She doesn't like people knowing," Bree continued. "She doesn't want to be treated differently."

"I wouldn't have treated her differently."

Bree scoffed. "Yeah? Well, you weren't exactly the safest choice to tell, were you?"

That hit like a damn punch to the gut.

I didn't even argue. Because maybe she was right.

Liv, who'd been mostly quiet this whole time, finally spoke up. "What happens now?"

Bree sighed, rubbing her temples. "She'll wake up. She'll be exhausted. She won't remember what happened. Probably a killer headache. And she's gonna be pissed we're all here."

I swallowed. "She won't want to see me."

Bree's expression softened, just slightly. "She's... complicated. But she cares about you. Whether she wants to or not."

I let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the chair. "I just—I can't believe I didn't know."

Bree tilted her head, studying me. "Does it change anything?"

I blinked at her. "What?"

She raised a brow. "Does it change how you feel about her?"

I shook my head immediately. "No. Of course not."

"Then why are you acting like this?"

Because I should've known.

Because I should've helped.

Because I should've done something.

But I didn't say that. I just stared at the ugly-ass hospital floor, wishing I could turn my brain off.

Because no matter what, I was still too late.