Stacey’s POV
The cabin felt suffocating. The thin walls offered no real privacy, but it didn’t matter. No one else was inside, and for the first time all day, I could let my guard down.
The second the door closed behind me, the tears came, hot and relentless.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, hugging my knees to my chest as I let it all out. For years, I’d buried the pain of my mom’s sacrifices under layers of cheerleading routines and witty comebacks. But now? With Monica showing up and forcing me to face everything I didn’t want to?
It felt like a dam had broken.
I missed my mom.
The realization hit me like a sucker punch, knocking the air from my lungs. She wasn’t here anymore. The woman who had built a life for me from nothing, who had been my rock when my dad left, was gone.
And suddenly, I didn’t want to be alone anymore.
I grabbed my phone, wiping at my eyes with shaky hands. Composing myself as much as I could, I scrolled to Betty’s name and hit the call button. She’d understand.
It rang. And rang. What could she possibly be doing in that musty old town that she couldn’t answer?
Finally, the screen lit up, and Betty’s face appeared, her hair slightly disheveled and her expression distracted.
“Hey!” she said, a little too brightly.
My eyes narrowed as I immediately noticed something. “Are you not wearing a bra?”
Betty froze, her cheeks flushing as she glanced down at herself. “It’s been messy here, you know. I was too lazy to dress up. What’s up... and have you been crying?”
I scoffed, sitting up straighter. “No! It’s drunk blush.”
Betty’s eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t press. Instead, she gave me that familiar teasing smirk. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
I hesitated. The words I wanted to say caught in my throat.
“I need your advice,” I admitted, my voice softer than I’d intended.
Betty’s eyes widened. “Me? Are you sick or something? What did they ever do to you in that camp?”
“Oh, shut up,” I snapped, though there was no real heat in my words. “Will you listen or not?”
She smiled, leaning closer to the screen. “Fine. What is it?”
I took a deep breath and told her everything. About Monica. About my dad.
Betty listened, her expression growing more serious with every word. She opened her mouth to respond when suddenly, someone appeared behind her on the screen.
“Hey, Bethany, coffee is—”
It was Brent.
My eyes widened in shock. “Brent is there with you? And you’re not wearing a bra?”
Betty turned crimson, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form words.
And then, as if the universe hadn’t done enough to humiliate me today, Marcus appeared behind me, his voice sharp. “What the hell is going on?”