Chapter 11
I sit up with a groan,dragging myself past him as fast as I can force my dehydrated body to move.
“You look like shit,” he offers helpfully as his eyes track me.
“I feel like shit,” I grimace as I follow him down the hall to the kitchen.
Camden gestures for me to sit on the barstool at the kitchen island as he pours me lukewarm water from the filtered tap attached to the sink. He watches as I sip it down in steady streams, careful not to chug it too quickly, before he pours me a second glass of colder water from the fridge.
“What were you thinking, going for a run in the heat of the day with no water?” he chastises.
“I didn’t really think about it.” I sit facing him, knees spread and heels hooked on the rungs of the stool to help me keep my balance as I lean back against the cool island.
“Obviously.” Cam shakes his head, stepping between my legs. “This is a whole look for you,” he reaches forward to slide the t-shirt off my brow and set it on the island, a small smile on his lips as he reaches a hand into my hair.
Time slows to a near stop. Cam’s hand slowly brushes through my curls, returning them to some kind of order from where the tightly wrapped shirt pressed them flat. I swallow thickly, a slow flush rising up my neck, my heartbeat the only sound I can hear as I watch the pulse at his wrist where it lingers just above my cheek. I feel him pause, and my eyes slowly drag down his arm to his face. He seems paler than normal, with a flush to his cheeks that’s rarely present, and his eyes seem almost glassy. I wonder absently if he’s feeling alright, and then all thought leaves me as his eyes lock with mine.
“Thanks,” I whisper. I can’t say why, but I feel like if I speak any louder something might break.
“Drink your water,” he whispers back.
I obediently lift the glass to my lips, and Camden clears his throat as he turns back to the fridge and pours himself a glass. I keep my mind studiously blank as we drink, trying to ignore the way his eyes kept flicking to me and away.
“Do you want to come up to my room?” he asks at last. “I was just studying for my exam Friday.”
“Sure,” I slide off the barstool, smiling awkwardly and follow him up the stairs.
Camden pulls his door half closed as I thumb my way through his impressive vinyl collection, turning to him displaying a photo of an old folk singer we both love and a raised eyebrow. He nods in approval towards the record player in the corner and I cross, setting it up like he’s shown me a million times. As I flip a switch and the soft crackle and purr of the first groove begins, I turn to see Cam sitting at the foot of the bed staring at his flashcard notes.
“I can help you review those, if you want?”
“Yeah,” he looks relieved. “That would be great, if you don’t mind?”
I settle on the other side of his bed, my back stopping just shy of the mound of pillows. I reach a hand out for the cards, shuffling them and clearing my throat dramatically before sitting up straight and reading the cards in an even measured tone that would give a game show host a run for their money.
“Which war,” I begin, “promoted the growth of industrialism in the late 1800s?”
“The Civil War,” he answers easily.
“That is correct!” I switch to the next card. “This man owned the company U.S. Steel and used vertical integration to monopolize the steel industry.”
“Uh,” Cam squeezes his eyes closed as if he’s picturing the textbook on the back of his eyelids. “One of those New York City names… Rockefeller?”
“Carnegie,” I correct. “But close.”
We continue like this for a while, and I’m pleased to see Camden’s shoulders relax as he gets the majority correct. The ones he misses I put back into the stack, shuffling periodically so that we review all of the answers until he has a solid grip on them. As we near the end of the stack I rest my wrist on my knee.
“I went running to think,” I say to my hands.
“About Casey?” he stretches his neck.
“Yeah… About what she said, why she broke up with me. And upon reflection, I’ve maybe been kind of a shitty boyfriend?” When he doesn’t speak I continue. “I think I maybe wasn’t as into her as I thought. Or maybe, I was at first, but after a while, I just felt comfortable… And that was kind of shitty.”
“So, you didn’t love her?”
“I… don’t know.” I frown, looking up at him. “Isn’t that awful? I know I love her, she’s our friend. But I don’t think I was ever in love with her… I think it was just what I thought I should feel.”
“So,” he clears his throat and seems to avoid my gaze. “Did you ever know that? Before she said that today?”
“No. Maybe some part of me did, but, like… I never thought about it, I guess.”
“So there was never, like… someone else? That you liked more?”
Casey”s words play over a hundred memories, her accusation that she wasn’t the one I wanted to be with most.
‘I saw you on the Ferris Wheel.’ Rough hands grip the steel bar in front of us so hard the knuckles are white, laughter fills the air as the bucket swings and we scoot closer together as if we might tip out the side if we were any closer to the edge.
‘But it doesn’t make you think of us!’ A new song plays from my phone, making me smile as I try to figure out what Cam wanted to say.
Me and Camden at Football practice. Camden driving down the empty highway singing to the radio. Camden and I camping in the back of his truck, looking for shapes in the stars. Camden, Camden, Cam…
“No!” I say it too loud, I know I’ve been silent too long. I clear my throat and speak more quietly. “No. There was no one.” I say it firmly, say it to myself. The air feels too still.
“Okay,” he says finally. “If you say there’s no one you like…”
“I wouldn’t ever cheat on Casey,” I say, staring resolutely at my hands. “I never wanted to hurt her.”
“I believe you,” he replies, then nudges my knee. He smiles when I look up, and all of the tension inside of me melts. “Can we finish these cards? Mrs. Jones likes me a lot more when I’m passing.”
“Good call,” I smile down at the cards, lifting them slightly once more. “Can’t get by on looks alone.”
“Believe me, brother, I’ve tried.” We both grin as we go back to studying.
“This man owned the company U.S. Steel and used vertical integration to monopolize the steel industry,” I read out again as it returns for a second shot.
“Carnegie,” he answers with confidence.
“Righto. Who invented barbed wire, and brought an end to the open range?”
“Joseph Glidden?”
“Cowboy dream killer,” I mutter under my breath, causing Cam to grin as the last track fades into crackly white noise behind us. “Okay, next question,” I flip the card to the back of my stack and squint carefully. “Who is your best friend in the entire universe?”
“Elliot,” he grins, belying his warning tone.
“Ooh, we were looking for ‘Elliot Graves’ specifically, but the judges will allow it.” I lick my finger and flip to the next card. “This is a good one,” I clear my throat. “Would you say it is Elliot Graves’ football talent or his charm that makes him so irresistible?”
“It does not say that,” he almost seems to blush as he reaches for the cards.
“Does so!” I blink innocently, raising them over my head. “It’s a simple question, Camden!”
“You’re not taking this seriously,” he laughs as he pushes on the bed with one hand.
“I’m very serious!” I laugh too, rolling my shoulder in an effort to keep the flashcards out of his reach. “It’s a serious question!” He grunts in effort as he rises to his knees, reaching around me with both hands. “You could say both, if you insist,” I grin.
I lean back away from him even as he comes closer, his legs straddling mine in an attempt at a wrestling hold as he grips my wrists at last, just as we both lose our balance and fall back towards the headboard. We are both breathing hard from laughter and exertion, his weight pressed on top of me as we make eye contact. I see my grin reflected on Cam’s where it floats above me, my hands framing my face where they’d landed on the pillows. His strong arms fill my vision, muscles flexing in their effort to catch himself and keep his weight off of me.
It suddenly occurs to me that Camden has me pinned to his bed, his face inches above my own, while my shirt still lay forgotten downstairs. And I love it. I register an unfamiliar tightening deep in my stomach, and my eyes widen even as Cam’s seem to drift half closed. I swallow hard and tilt my head lazily, my chin pointing to the cards still clutched in my hand, when the sharp closing of the door to the garage breaks through the air like a bucket of ice water.
Cam throws himself backward, pushing his back against the rail at the foot of his bed and pulling the textbook into his lap. I shoot up, fighting the blush that creeps up my neck to my cheeks and crossing my legs, studiously observing the review cards as heavy steps fall on the stairs.
“Knock knock,” Mr. Holt announces himself as he appears in the doorway. His gaze flicks between us. “Hey Elliot,” he smiles kindly but there is suspicion in his eyes. “I didn’t know you were coming over after school.”
“He wasn’t going to,” Camden offers quickly.
“I went for a run,” I supply. “But I forgot my water bottle. Cam caught me on the loop back and offered me some.” I smile too brightly and add, “Gotta stay hydrated!”
“That’s always my motto,” Cam chuckles weakly.
“Yeah, but, I felt bad about interrupting him from studying for his test, so I offered to run through his flashcards with him.” My voice feels stilted, awkward, and I hope my face isn’t as red as it feels.
“Sounds plausible,” his dad nods, trying to stifle his amusement. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“No,” Camden replies quickly. “We just finished, so,” he shrugs.
“Alright,” he taps the door frame with a closed fist. “It’s still pretty warm out there, Elliot. Do you need a ride home?”
“I’ll be okay,” I give him what I hope is a more natural smile. “It’s not so bad from here, mostly downhill.”
“Sounds good,” he turns to leave, pausing to add, “Don’t forget to grab your shirt from the kitchen island.”
“Right,” a strangled reply makes its way from my throat. “Thanks…”
After a moment I glance over to see Camden failing to suppress a grin.
“What?” I frown.
“Gotta. Stay. Hydrated?”
“Um, yes.” I blush. “Hydration is important, Holt.”
“Right, but, like…” He grins even wider. “What a dork.”
“You’re the dork!” I laugh and throw the cards at him. “I’m going home!”
“Thank God, honestly,” he teases as we head downstairs. He grabs the t-shirt off the counter and pushes it against my chest, both of us blushing as he walks me out the door. “Bye El, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I agree with a nod, starting across the lawn.
“It’s neither,” he calls. I blink. “The answer, to your question? It’s neither.” He pauses, and just as I open my mouth to reply he adds. “It’s the smile.”
I hear the door snick shut behind me, but it takes me a minute to remember how to move my legs and make them carry me back down the street to my house.
Walk,I encourage myself as my house grows larger in front of me. Just keep walking. Right foot, left foot, right foot, wrong call… What were you even thinking? No, no thinking… Walk… Right foot, left foot, almost there… I squeeze my eyes shut and quicken my step as I reach my yard, trying not to draw attention to myself as the neighbors begin arriving home for the evening.
I breathe in a smooth and even breath as I slip into the house and shut the door behind me. I stand there for a second, grounding myself against the firm oak of the door frame before I make my way upstairs to my room. Pulling the door shut behind me, I finally release my ragged breath and fall face-first onto the bed. A million thoughts and images assault me at once, so many I can’t even try to put them in order or address them. All I can do is let them wash over me, drowning me as I try to hold on to the one question I ask myself back; why? I roll to my back, staring at my ceiling as I start putting the thoughts into a coherent form.
Why am I already okay with the breakup? I think back to when Casey and I first started dating.
It’s Freshman year, I see us standing outside of the high school watching Cam and the other Varsity boys practice. Casey got out of cheer practice early, and we’re talking about the homecoming game. She doesn’t have a date, but I say we can go together since my game is Thursday. She blushes and tucks her hair behind her ear, but I don’t realize she doesn’t know I meant as friends. By the time I hear the word “boyfriend” squealed in the halls, it feels too late to correct her. And besides, we’re friends! Who better to be my first girlfriend?
Because I never really had feelings for Casey. I blink quickly, feeling heat build beneath my eyelids. Why couldn’t I just have feelings for Casey?
I’m fifteen years old, on a date at the movies. We’re watching the newest chick flick, and I can’t peel my eyes off the screen; they cast my favorite actor as the lead and I find the performance riveting. I notice that Casey’s hand is on my knee. I turn to ask her if everything is okay, and she presses her lips to mine. Her eyes are shut. Mine are wide open, frozen in surprise. She pulls back and smiles shyly. “Oh,” I blush. “Uh, wow.” “Yeah,” she bats her eyes, giggling before turning back to the screen. I go back to watching the movie, but I can’t help but think about how that didn’t live up to the way I feel when I watch the actors kiss on that screen. I think I just need to be prepared next time. But it never starts to feel quite like that.
Because I am maybe not so into kissing girls. I take and release a shaky, wet sort of breath. Why can’t I just be into kissing girls?
I’m fourteen, and mom and Beth have been getting really big into girls” nights watching movies lately. I join in because I want to spend time with them, but I’ve been surprised to find I’m actually really into the movies. Watching the lead actor falling in love, the look in his eyes when he looks at the woman he loves, the easy way he carries himself with confidence… it pulls me in. But my favorite part is the slow moment when they lean in and you know they’re going to kiss, and it slowly pans across his jaw, building the anticipation as the music swells. I glance at mom, blushing a little, and she laughs and makes a big show of covering my and Beth’s eyes.
Because I am very possibly into kissing boys. Why am I realizing this now?
I’m sitting next to Cam on the Ferris Wheel, laughing and pulling closer to the middle of the ride’s bucket seat. Our hands are so close to each other on the bar, and I wonder if Cam notices too. Our legs press tightly together, closer than we even are when we lay down in the backyard or in his room. I look down where they touch, from the knee to the hip and every inch in between. I feel warm and bubbly as I look up into Cam’s eyes, like the main character in all of my favorite movies.
Because I very possibly want to kiss Camden Holt.
My eyes squeeze tightly shut.
How…. Long have I wanted that?
We’re twelve. I’m running backward through Cam’s backyard, getting ready to catch the ball. I’m helping him practice before middle school football tryouts, though it’s kind of never been my thing.
It’s my sixteenth birthday, and Cam picks me up in the truck he just got his license to drive. He’s grinning proudly, opening the door for me like he doesn’t trust me not to get my fingerprints on it. I laugh at him, and we sing along to the cassette he brought along like some kind of time capsule as he drives us out to my surprise: a drive-in movie. We lay in the back of the truck and watch a double feature under the stars, and I think it’s the best birthday I’ve ever had.
Maybe for a while.
A tear wells up in my eye and runs down my cheek when I look back to the ceiling. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement, and Beth slips down to sit next to me. She reaches up to take my hand, then leans her head against the bed. She doesn’t say anything, she’s just…. There. Now the tears flow more freely, and she squeezes my hand.
“I love you,” she says simply. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah,” I croak. I squeeze her hand back. “I know.”
But if I’m being honest, I’m not so sure that I do.