8. Jagger

Jagger

H e fucking left.

I said I wanted to edit these videos—something I'm shit at doing, which Cam knows—and he still went with Aiden to see a damn robot. Who cares that he invited me to go too? Like I want to be the third wheel in their little let's pet each other's dicks party.

Good for Cam for exploring and all, but I don't need to see that. I'm no voyeur. And he can do whatever he wants on his own time.

No, fuck that.

He can hook up with someone at a party like a normal person instead of taking up our time to chase dick. And he damn sure doesn't have to pretend to be into robots to get some action. Unless he wants to do more than just hook up.

Please God, don't make him want that. I'm not ready to share him with someone else.

Discarding my changes, which only consisted of putting my logo on the beginning of the clip but for some reason isn't going away with the same swirly flare Cameron gets it to do, I slam the lid of the laptop down with a groan. A robot would probably be better at this than I am .

"You know they can break if you're that rough with ‘em." I look up to find Cam leaning casually against the doorframe, and the agitation that was starting to take over begins to dissipate. Somewhat.

"What if it's already broken?"

"Is that what's going on here or are you stuck and blaming the computer for what you don't know how to do?"

Fuck him for seeing through me. Also, thank God he's here.

"Will you just make the logo do that swirly exit thing before the video starts?"

Cameron strides to the desk with a wry smirk and opens the laptop, keying in the code we both use as a security key for all our shit. He pulls up the video, hits a few keys, and in seconds, makes the edit that I couldn't figure out after tinkering with it for the better part of an hour.

Show off.

Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms and huff out a grouchy, "Thanks."

"You could've just waited. Just as you could've come with me to see the robot and did this together, like we always do."

"Mmph."

"Why didn't you?" Cam takes a seat on my bed, but I stubbornly keep my chair facing the desk instead of spinning to face him. "Kitcat?"

"Robots are stupid." Apparently, I don't have to be agitated to be a brat.

"That's rich coming from the guy who has an R2-D2 text notification."

"It sounds cool." I dig my heels in, still facing the screen that indicates my video is ready to upload .

"Right." I can feel Cam's eyes roll even though I'm not looking at him. "So, you weren't pushing me away cause you think we're too dependent on each other?"

What the…

I swivel the chair so I'm facing him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he stepped into my room. Their deep brown intensity rattles me to the point I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "I didn't push you away. You left."

"I invited you to –"

"You left. After you promised you'd never leave."

Cam rears back like I hit him, and yeah, maybe pulling out that promise from when we were kids is a low blow, but that doesn't make it any less true.

"I didn't leave you," Cam's voice is low and level, like he's talking to a spooked animal. He probably feels like he is, considering this isn't the first time he's had to talk me off this ledge.

The first was when his parents toyed with the idea of sending him to private school, which my mom couldn't afford, and I got so worked up over the idea of being separated I damn near gave myself a panic attack. Then there was redistricting, when the school board almost drew a line that would put us in different schools. They did actually draw that line, but Cam's parents helped my mom petition to have me stay where I was, and they were so persistent about it that the school board gave in.

Most recently, it was over college. Cam would've been fine to leave football behind after high school, but I didn't want to play without him. Fortunately, he's talented enough that he was getting scouted on his own, but we made it a point to tell every school we talked to that we were a package deal. Truthfully, I'm still surprised that it worked and we got offers for the same place. I guess even the coaches recognized that I need Cam like I need air.

Is my attachment to him unhealthy? Undoubtedly. And I know I'll have to grow out of it at some point, I'm just not ready yet. Bottom line is, the idea that I'd push him away before I absolutely have to… It sends my mind spiraling.

"You did," I insist. "You ran off to chase a dick."

"I ran off to see a robot, not chase a dick, but even if I had, you told me to. You can't be pissed at me for doing what you wanted."

"I can if it means you leave." Despite being fully aware I'm a rambling, hypocritical mess right now, I can't get my brain to act logically. I can't reconcile my words with Cam's actions, even though there's a tiny rational part of my brain that knows one led to the other. It's just getting drowned out by ten-year-old me who still has nightmares about being left behind by the guy he idolized.

"Dammit Kitcat, shut up and listen. I didn't leave , leave. I tried to do like you wanted and not be so dependent on you that I literally can't function when life takes us in different directions, but I made it all of an hour before it felt so wrong I couldn't do it anymore. I'd rather rip the Band-Aid off in a few years than try to prepare now for life after college."

"Prepare for…" Though my initial panic is somewhat subdued by his confession that he couldn't make it more than an hour without feeling my absence, the life after college thing prevents it from receding completely. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Aren't you pushing me toward Aiden so it'll be easier to do our own thing later on?"

"Fuck no. As far as I'm concerned, life after college will be no different than how it is now, except we have jobs instead of classes and live in a nicer place and shit. And I already told you that thing with Aiden was just a get your rocks off with a guy thing."

"Is it that important to you that I explore things with a guy?"

"It's important to me that I don't hold you back." Yes, that totally contradicts how I feel about not being ready to share Cam, but I still want him to be happy, even if I don't know how those things can coexist.

"Why would you think you're holding me back?" His head falls to the side like a dog when it knows you're talking to it but only understands two of the ten words.

"Because you didn't tell me about liking guys. And you haven't been with one yet."

"I told you, I haven't found anyone I wanted to explore with."

"Were you even looking?"

"Not specifically." He shakes his head once.

"Why"

"No reason."

"Bullshit." I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Why?"

"I didn't want things to change. Okay?" He runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair, inadvertently mussing it into a series of jagged spikes.

"You really think I would've thought less of you for who you liked?" I rub at my chest to soothe the sudden ache there.

"Of course not. But that doesn't mean liking a guy wouldn't change things."

"Liking a girl would change things, too. Just saying."

"Would it though?" That thoughtful head tilt is back. "We only ever hook up with girls together . We pick friends and hook up with them at the same time, sometimes even in the same room. Neither of us has taken a girl out solo. If one of us felt like dating someone we'd insist they bring a friend along and do that whole double date thing. How would that work if I wanted to take out a guy?"

I want to insist that it could've worked, but I don't know how, because he's right. Neither of us would've taken anyone out solo, and a double date with three guys and a girl might've been too weird for the girl, considering the rest of us would probably fall into a conversation about football or action movies or any number of things that might bore her to death.

"Maybe you wouldn't have treated me differently for being interested in guys," Cam continues, "but things would've been different."

"I see your point," I concede, leaving out the part where I think they already are, and not because of what he likes but because of what I do. Maybe.

At the gym today, things got sort of weird. I got sort of weird. Feeling tingly, then jealous, then angry. That was sort of extreme, and while some of that can be attributed to not being ready to share Cam, I'm not sure that's the only reason I nearly went off the deep end.

Something happened—has been happening ever since I walked in on Cruz and Liam—and that something seems to intensify when I'm around Cam.

I'm not ready to put that into words though.

I can't explain what's going on with me. I have some ideas, but nothing concrete enough to speak aloud. In that sense, I can understand why Cameron waited years to tell me about being bi. It might not have changed things with us , but it could've changed things. Same as what's going through my mind could, since that's so much more than fear of him leaving.

"You really think after we graduate we're gonna be in the same place? Still living together?" The corner of Cam's lip ticks up, fighting a smile that makes my heartbeat speed up .

"I don't see why not."

"What if you get drafted? You could end up anywhere."

I lean back in my chair, testing the limits of gravity as I recline to the fullest. "Unless you also get drafted, which you keep saying you don't care about, you'll just go wherever I go."

"You sound awfully sure about that, but there are some places I have no desire to live in."

"Name one."

"Texas, for starters. It's fucking hot down there. Or Wisconsin. Do you know how cold it gets?"

"You're born and raised in Colorado, dipshit. You can handle cold."

"Colorado cold is different than Midwest cold and you know it." He points a finger at me like he's emphasizing some really important point, but it's just for show. "I'll have to go where the best job is, whether you're there or not." His voice is way too soft for my normally confident friend.

"Now you're just being difficult. You know I'll pull every string available to me as a rookie to get you a job. Hell, maybe I'll even get you hooked up with the team that drafts me."

"Yeah, cause teams will be jumping at the chance to hire the best friend of their rookie draft pick straight out of college," he scoffs with an overly dramatic eye roll, though I don't miss the relief in them before they take a trip to the back of his head.

"It could happen. Dream big Cam." I wink at him, which he pretends to dismiss by flopping back on the bed.

"Dreaming is your thing. I'm the realist."

"Realistically." I kick at his foot with mine. "There's no reason we can't both find jobs in the same city. Even if I don't get drafted, I have to do what every other college grad does and submit dozens of applications. "

"If you don't get drafted, we'll just end up back home, looking for jobs there."

"Maybe." I nod my head. "Or maybe we try somewhere new."

"Where?"

"How the hell should I know? We could throw a dart at the map for all I care. The point is wherever the next stop is we go there together. None of this ripping the Band-Aid off and going our separate ways bullshit."

"Even if it means I have to freeze my balls off cause you get drafted by some lame ass Midwest team?" Mention of his balls makes mine feel full for reasons I can't even begin to dissect.

"Especially then. But houses are cheaper there so we'll get a place with a giant fireplace and a hot tub and even a sauna so you can sweat your balls off instead."

He's silent for a moment, swinging his leg in a lame attempt to kick mine, which he can't see since he's staring at the ceiling. "Is it fucked up that I actually believe you?" he asks softly. "Even though it's a pipe dream?"

"No, Camelot. It's not fucked up. You know I can dream big enough for the both of us."