First Down: a sweet romance, page 14
“Yeah, well…” I huff. “It’s been a long week.”
“Yeah, no, you said that. I guess, uh, it sounded like she was hoping I might have some insight. On what went wrong.”
“She broke up with me,” I frown into the darkness. “And she’s looking for closure?”
“I don’t know,” his laughter sounds forced. “Girls, you know…”
“I don’t know,” I rub my forehead. “I was perfectly fine leaving things the way they were. She’s the one who didn’t want to be with the freak who didn’t want to have sex with his girlfriend!” I realize I’m being louder than I mean to, and stare out the window quietly as Cam silently pulls in and parks the car in Jenson’s driveway. The rumble of the engine shuts off, and the soothing rhythm of cicadas in the fields where people parked and disturbing them starts to filter into the cab of the truck.
“You aren’t a freak,” he murmurs softly.
“You don’t know that,” I say to my knee. I make no move to exit the cab, exhaling slowly.
Cam unbuckles, strolling around the truck before he opens my door and leans into the open space. I hate the way I react, a nervous flutter like I think something might happen.
“Elliot, you are my best friend. I know everything about you,” he says seriously. “And if I thought you were a freak, I would tell you every day.” He steps back and holds the door open for me.
“Not everything about me,” I mutter under my breath as I get out of the truck and follow him up the path to the house.
We enter the house without knocking, the loud music humming through the door a clear sign that the party has already started. Just past the front door is a dining table, where an assortment of shots and drinks have been poured and bottles and cups stacked. This looks like a long night. We both grab a plastic shot glass and down it. I shake my head as the vodka burns its way down my throat, washing away the worry from the car. I toss the cup into the trash bag and grab a can of soda to carry, raising an eyebrow as Cam downs a second shot and pops the tab on a beer. The living room is shaking with the beat of the music as kids dance and stand in close groups, heads bent together to be heard. In the corners, couples lean against the walls for support as already drunk mouths smash together. Stacey, a cheerleader I’ve seen at just about every party Cam’s ever brought me to, has donned a pair of sparkly children’s costume wings and twirls around being the Vodka Fairy, tilting generous pours of cheap spirits into people’s drinks as they laugh and cheer. I put a thumb over the top of my drink, shaking my head. Thank God Beth isn’t here… yet, at least.
Cam pulls me onto the dance floor, and I can’t help but laugh as I catch myself and start shifting to the beat of the music. We dance and laugh as the floor fills up around us, pressing everyone closer together. Beside me, a girl grinds and rubs against me, the smell of vodka heavy on her breath. I subtly shift and place a hand on her shoulder, easing her into the guy behind us instead. I smile at the look on his face as he notices his new dance partner, turning as he winks at me to see someone hand Cam another shot. Somewhere along the way he’s finished his beer, and he deposits both empty containers in a passing teammate’s hands with a whoop.
I watch the blonde boy shimmy his hips and wind his wrists up his body and into the air, the liquor loosening his usually restrained posture. Tension enters my gut, and I swallow hard as I watch him. The song shifts, the riff of Prince’s guitar filling the packed room, and he turns to find me with a grin.
“El!” I see him more than hear him say as he reaches for my forearms and pulls me closer. “I love this song!”
“I know,” I chuckle, trying to ignore the melting heat that runs down my arms as Cam trails his thumbs down to my wrists.
With a shuddered breath and a set of my shoulders, I decide to use the crushing pack of teenagers bumping and grinding in this living room to my advantage and move in closer. Camden laughs and crows along with the song, matching my grin as we dance. He shimmies and dips his hips, all inhibitions gone, and next to my restrained dancing we probably make an odd pair. I feel invisible in this room, and I’ve never realized just how freeing and underrated that is. I close my eyes and let myself imagine for just a second that we’re here together, dancing with each other on purpose.
In my mind we drift closer together, my hands resting on Cam’s hips. I pull him closer, pressing our bodies together, but when he turns to look at me a flare of disgust and alarm shoots through his eyes. I open mine, gasping out a panicked sound.
That can’t happen. He’s your best friend, get your shit together. I look at Cam’s face, and he looks as nauseous as I feel. With a frown, I take his elbow and gently steer him to the edge of the crowd as the song fades out.
“El,” he moans. “I don’t feel so good…”
“No shit, bud… Let’s sit down.” I grab us each a bottle of water and herd him to Jenson’s covered back porch.
We sink onto the couch, and the noise of the party is muffled as the door swings shut behind us. I take a deep breath and relax, handing the cracked-open bottle to Cam and dutifully keep my eyes averted as he begins to sip it down. After a while, I hear him sigh and turn to glance at him.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay…” I frown when I see his bottom lip waver. He takes a breath before he keeps talking. “You haven’t wanted to talk to me since Monday.”
“Oh…” I rub my hands on my knee. “Cam, it isn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you… I just needed to think.”
“Did you want to think about getting Casey back?” he asks tersely.
“No,” I frown at his tone. “I'm really okay with the breakup. I told you I don’t think I liked her like that…”
“But why?” He demands. “Why not? Do you like someone else?”
I clench my teeth, staring at a spot on the wall as a slow flush rises up my neck. Camden freezes, going pale before angry red spots appear on his cheeks. When he finally speaks, the accusing tone is gone; replaced with hurt and laced with a bitter edge of anger.
“You like someone else. You do.”
“Cam… Come on.”
“You told me you didn’t like anyone,” tears well up in his eyes. “You lied to me!”
“Cam,” I try desperately. Please, please just calm down…
“She asked me if I thought you were cheating, and I told her no.”
“I would never cheat!”
I didn’t mean to like you, I didn’t even realize…
“But you lied! I asked you if you liked someone, and you lied! I’m supposed to be your best friend… You aren't supposed to lie to me!”
“I didn’t mean to lie.”
“What does that even mean?? You’ve been so weird this week, you won’t even look at me.” His voice cracks. “I thought maybe you saw me, wanted me, I…” He stops and looks blearily around, the tears starting to fall in earnest.
What? What did he just say?
I lurch to my feet and hold out my arms in front of him as Cam stands, swaying as the rest of his body catches up. He’s drunk. I’ve never seen him like this, so out of control. He chokes on a sob, shoving my arm down.
“Cam,” I breathe.
“I want to go home…” he starts towards the door.
“You can’t drive Cam, you’re drunk.”
“I’m going home,” he pushes past me, and with a strength I didn’t know I had I grab his wrist and pull him back to me.
“Give me the keys, Camden.” I say, concern making my voice hard. Glaring, he fishes them from his pockets and puts them in my free hand. “Come on,” I let go of him. “I’ll take you home.”
I swallow hard as I lead the way back through the packed house, silently reciting over and over the steps to getting Glory moving in the right direction. Every few steps I look over my shoulder to be sure Cam is still following, wincing at the anger radiating from beneath the tracks of tears on his cheeks. When we finally reach the truck I open the door with shaking hands. Camden trips on his way in, barely catching himself and hauling himself into the seat. Shaking my head from side to side, I cross around the front to the driver’s seat and whisper a prayer as I turn the key in the ignition.
The walk to the truck was quiet and tense, but not as awkward as the drive home. The silence is broken only by the occasional sniff as Cam stares out his window. I cut the lights as we pull up to our street, not wanting to draw his dad’s attention as I park Glory and cross to Camden’s side of the truck. He fights me as I try to help him out, but lets me open the front door and follow him inside.
“Go take out your contacts,” I whisper after him.
“Go home,” he hisses back. “I’m fine.”
I ignore him, rolling my eyes as I go into the kitchen. Thankful I know my way in the dark, I find him a cup with a lid and straw in the cabinets and fill it with water. I start for the stairs but double back to reach for the sleeve of saltines Mr. Holt always keeps on hand in case of illness. Taking careful steps so as not to draw Mr. Holt’s attention any more than Cam already has on his way up the stairs, I follow. Slipping past the dark bathroom, I make my way down the hall and into his bedroom. Cam lays sprawled on top of his blankets, already fast asleep and breathing evenly. I shake my head, hoping he took my advice about the contacts and won’t be cursing himself in the morning, and set the water and crackers on his bedside table with Glory’s keys before taking a seat next to him on the bed. My hands shake as I reach out, shifting some hair away from his eyes.
“Goodnight, Cam.”
I creep downstairs and start off down the street, cursing myself for making my best friend cry. What can I even say to him? ‘Sorry man, I was just avoiding you so I could try not to think of how much I want to kiss you’? Or how about, ‘I didn’t realize that I liked you as more than a friend until my girlfriend dumped me because she kind of started to pick up on it, haha, isn’t that funny?’ Yeah. I somehow don’t think that would help.
I rub my eyes hard with the heel of my hand, refusing to cry. I frown as something occurs to me. Is she asking him questions because she knows I like him? Or just because she suspects I like someone but isn’t sure who? And Cam… does he know? His upset tonight flows through my mind, hearing the hurt in his words… ‘You won't even look at me…’ he’d said. ‘I thought you saw me, wanted me…’
I trip on the curb in front of my house, my heart catching in my throat as I look back in the direction I’ve just come from as a wonderful, horrible, terrifying thought occurs to me.
Could it be possible that Camden Holt wants to kiss me, too?
13
Saturday morning comes slowly. I couldn’t tell you if I slept at all, but if I did I don’t feel rested. My brain is moving in a million directions at a hundred miles an hour, and I can’t seem to turn it off. Reaching for my phone, I sigh as I stare at my message log with Cam. I type a few words and erase them. Try again, and back it up. I finally land on something I hope is heartfelt, but casual.
Morning
I wanted to check on you
Your head okay?
I put my phone on the bedside table and lay back down, closing my eyes. Just go to sleep, and when you wake up you’ll see what he says. But no matter how many times I repeat the instructions to stop thinking, it isn’t fooling anyone. At some point, I roll to face the door, and I find myself resting a cheek on my hand and staring at the table as if I could will my phone to ring. Giving up on this fruitless exercise, I huff a sigh and pull a t-shirt on then walk to the door, crossing back to grab my phone before going downstairs.
Dad sits on the couch, recliner feet extended and a cup of coffee in his hand as he watches tv. He smiles when he notices me on the stairs, tilting his head in the direction of the kitchen as he speaks.
“Morning, sport! There are donuts and coffee in the kitchen if you want some.”
“Thanks,” I take a peek inside the white box on the kitchen table.
Mom and Beth have already been here, two pink smudges beneath a scattering of fallen sprinkles and coconut the only evidence of the strawberry monstrosities they claimed before I woke up. I grab a paper towel and stack the two cake donuts dad has brought home for me, one dipped in chocolate and the other dusting the box with cinnamon and sugar, before pouring myself a cup of coffee and curling my legs up to sit with him on the other end of the couch. I’m halfway through my first treat when the silence of the house hits me.
“Where’re the girls?” I ask between bites.
“Shopping,” he rolls his eyes dramatically but smiles. “I think I heard something about homecoming dresses, but your mom grabbed the credit card so they could be a while.”
“Oh,” I lean back into the couch, relaxing further. “Cool.”
Mom’s great, and the two of them together are both relationship goals and absolutely horrifying at the same time, but today I could just really use a little quiet time. Dad takes a look at the circles under my eyes and my favorite comfy pajama pants I put on last night even though they’re fuzzy and it’s a balmy 80 degrees at 10 am and pushes the remote closer to me, but doesn’t say a word. I smile at him, and we sit in companionable silence as we finish the movie he had playing.
When it’s over, I grab the remote and scroll until I find the first movie of my favorite trilogy; if anything will distract me, it’s this. But as the movie plays, I can’t seem to help but check my phone every few minutes for a reply that never rings through. I think I’m being discreet, but it must be more obvious than I think because when Dad dips a plate with a sandwich on it in front of me in between the first and second movie he ruffles my hair.
“Everything okay?” he asks gently.
“Yeah,” I half smile. “I’m fine.”
“Sure,” he pretends to believe me, but gives me a meaningful look as he settles back into his spot and pops the tab on a soda can. “But just so you know, if everything weren’t okay? I’m right here.”
“I know,” I give him a real smile. “Thanks. I love you, dad.”
“I love you too,” he winks and turns back to the movie.
We stay there for the rest of the day, only moving when mom and Beth finally show up with buckets of chicken in hand for dinner. Dad stretches and helps get their bags inside before he sneaks in a kiss from mom and sets the table with disposable dinnerware. She giggles and shoos him away when he reaches a slender arm to pinch her bottom on his way through, and Beth and I make a big show of disgust but honestly I kind of love that my parents are so in love. It’s nice, in a totally disgusting and possibly scarring way.
The craziness that is a dinner with my family actually pulls my mind away for a little while, and I laugh as Beth dramatically retells an epic battle mom had with the salesperson over the price of dresses on the clearance rack. My sides ache by the time I help clean up the table, and my chest feels looser than it has all week. I almost forget to check my phone before I go to bed, but when I do I see that there are still no new notifications. I settle back down to Earth as I brush my teeth and slip into bed, settling into sleep due to the sheer exhaustion of being awake since Friday morning.
I’m walking down the hallways of the school. They’re empty, eerily silent as I make my way through the turns and up the stairs, they seem longer than normal. I can’t seem to put my finger on where it is I’m heading. I start to turn around, brows furrowed, but then I see him. Camden, in an open pearl snap shirt and khakis, pushes his glasses further up his nose from where they’ve slipped as he puts books in his bottom locker. I stand there, frozen, and when he turns to notice me and a slow smile spreads across his face my heart starts beating so hard I can hear it. He stands. Takes a step. I take one too. We both stride towards each other, my arms glide smoothly up and around his neck even as his wind around my waist and pull me closer to him. My eyes are closed, my breath shallow and ragged as our foreheads press together. I bring one hand to his cheek, feeling the rough stubble growing there, and Cam squeezes me as he speaks.
‘I wasn’t sure if you saw me,’ he murmurs.
‘I see you.’ I open my eyes and sink into the blue ones on the other side of the glass.
‘I wasn’t sure if you wanted me.’ His gaze runs down my face and stops on my lips.
‘I want you,’ I breathe.
For a moment, time is frozen. My stomach clenches, the fear of rejection slowly seeping in from my toes and rising to fill me with dread. He isn’t saying anything… That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said anything. He’s my best friend, but he doesn’t like me, and I’ve just ruined everything. I part my lips, trying to find the words to apologize, but then Cam is pulling me close. His head tilts and he gently kisses my palm. My heart stops. His lips hover briefly on my wrist, and my arm, and slowly he drifts to my lips, pressing me to him as our eyes drift closed…
I wake up on a disappointed moan, then flush and bury my face in the pillow. My eyes squeeze shut and I breathe out slowly, trying to clear my head of the images left behind by the dream. There’s no way to deny by now that I want more with Camden than friendship. What I can’t figure out is, does he feel the same way? Before Friday I would have said no chance. But the way he looked at me when the vodka took away his walls, the way he acted when I didn’t deny having feelings for someone… I close my eyes and see his face, the emotion swirling through his eyes as he says ‘You’ve been so weird this week, you won’t even look at me.’
Does he think I wasn’t talking to him because I wasn’t interested in him?
I frown, trying to settle back into sleep as Cam’s words replay in my mind. I’ve got to stop fixating on all of this, Camden has never made any kind of indication that he likes me. And I’m his best friend. If he were into guys, I would know. I think.
