Chris, seemingly unware of my struggles, continued to talk and walk until he closed the door behind us and sat in front of his computer. “You should bring Cameron.” Such a simple comment hiding such difficulties, but at least it was a sure way to get my mind off Gabriel.
“No, why would I do that?”
“You said you were friends. Have you even thanked him for what he did?”
I wanted to groan. Chris knew I had stayed away from Cameron as much as I could. It was cowardly of me on a lot of levels, but I really felt like I needed some space. Cameron had seemed to understand, especially since he was still my teacher and needed to keep a professional distance. He’d already been asked to explain to the administration why he’d been in Gabriel’s room to begin with. I didn’t want to cause him any more troubles.
“Or you can ask him,” I said.
“Right.” Chris grabbed his laptop and stared at the screen. He appeared focused, but something told me he wasn’t done with me. After a while, he glanced my way. “You know, maybe there’s strength in wanting to love again. Especially after something like you’ve been through.”
Arms folded on the table, I hunched over and laid my head to rest. Confusion battled with delicate butterfly wings, and I wasn’t sure I liked the feeling. The problem was that Chris had struck a chord and it was impossible to silence the resounding message. He was right and that made it all much scarier.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The pure relief bursting out of every pore felt just as warm as the rays of sunshine caressing my skin. The doors to the university closed behind me with a certain finality. The last test was done, the sky was impossibly blue, everyone smiled around me—all in all, I felt on top of the world.
I was pretty confident that I’d scored enough points on my last exam to make myself and my parents proud, and unlike a year ago, I could walk out of the last day of school and look forward to a wonderful summer.
Gripping my bag tighter, I tried to repel that thought. What Gabriel had started by throwing me out last year shouldn’t have affected me today. My strangely calm therapist, Dr. Fincher, had tried to give me numerous lessons on what to do when memories overwhelmed me—or rather, my task was to stop the thoughts before they took me that far into chaos.
My phone beeped with Chris’ signal.
I’m buying you ice cream when you’re done.
Warmth seeped into my heart. Ice cream was perfect, both a comfort food and celebration. Hopefully, he thought about the latter. Don’t want the guy to lose faith in me, after all.
I texted back.
I’m done, and for your information I want the supreme extra special :)
The reply was instant.
There isn’t a supreme extra special…
A very typical Chris answer.
There is one now.
I chuckled as I imagined Chris’ wincing, but it was definitely worth it knowing that I was pushing his buttons. He would still buy me an ice cream, and he would go all in.
We texted back and forth a couple of times, deciding to meet in ten minutes at the ice cream booth down on Trent Street.
No longer staring at the phone, I opened up to the world around me, watching faces pass by, one by one. A few months ago, I hadn’t seen others, not for real. I had walked around inside a dark cloud, far removed from everything unless I had perceived a threat coming my way. With a fake smile, I had trudged forward without knowing where I put my feet. In fact, I hadn’t been aware of its existence until it lifted.
I continued to walk along the cobbled pathway, avoiding the dancing shadows of the trees lining the street. It felt as if I was channeling my inner child who wanted nothing but to smile and enjoy the day. Turning a corner, I quit playing around and joined the crowd that steered me toward the shopping streets in this part of the city. Trent Street wasn’t the busiest one, but the ice cream place had enough traction to bring a fair amount of customers their way.
Chris waved from one of the rickety tables, prepared with two ice cream sundaes. The grin he wore matched how I felt. Obviously, he’d done well on his last exam.
The chair squeaked precariously when I sat. I don’t know why they thought it was a thing to have chairs and tables that barely held together. Maybe the owners thought they looked nice, or maybe they just wanted to go all out with the 1950s theme.
“Dude, we gotta celebrate tonight,” Chris said, pushing the sundae in my direction.
I smacked my lips at the sight of three different kinds of chocolate ice cream, plenty of fresh raspberries and a layer of whipped cream on top.
“Earth to Adam.”
“Huh?” I looked up and saw Chris facepalm himself.
“You’re hopeless around ice cream. I can’t understand how you were able to work at an ice cream parlor last summer without gaining an extra layer of padding.”
Shrugging, I grabbed the spoon and cut through the soft goodness with reverence.
Chris cleared his throat. “So, I was saying, we should celebrate tonight.”
“O’course!”
“Jeez, don’t talk with your mouth full.” He let out a groan, but the sound barely hinted at annoyance. He was charmed—I was sure of it.
I swallowed and used the yellow napkin at the corner of my mouth. “Of course.”
With a slight shake of his head, he continued, “Have you talked to Cameron yet?”
The chocolate suddenly tasted bland in my mouth. “No. Can we talk about something else?”
“He’s not even your teacher anymore.” He placed the sundae back on the table and took my hands, as if he were about to say something particularly important. “He caught me in the hallway this morning. He asked how you were doing.”
I fought the smile that threatened to reach my lips. Unfortunately, I wasn’t very successful.
“There you go, you should talk to him. Ask him how he is and what he’ll do this summer.”
“He asked how I was. That doesn’t mean he wants to talk to me. It’s a standard phrase.”
Chris shook his head. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t push. It’s just sad to know how both of you feel and not being able to fix it.”
My voice barely worked. “There’s nothing to fix.”
Chris looked into the distance, dipping his plastic spoon into the melting sundae. He didn’t want to hear my lies.
My chest squeezed, but I knew he was right. I had to move on, and I could at least visit Cameron to say goodbye and thank him for everything he’d done for me.
* * * *
I stared at the plain gray door in the middle of the long corridor, shifting from foot to foot as I contemplated the implications of what I was about to do.
I backed away, staring down the quiet hallway. The possibility of a silent escape from the situation pulled at my determination. Plan escape was about to win the ongoing argument in my brain when the door squeaked and opened.
Something pummeled down my stomach, causing all those butterflies to roar to life.
“Adam.”
Cameron was smiling. A careful smile—a hopeful smile.
Way to make a guy melt. Damn it.
“Hey.”
“I was just leaving. Want to walk with me or should we talk in the office?”
I weighed the pros and cons. Walking was a cure-all, so maybe that was the only solution. “We can walk if you want.” I tried to smile back, but my lips were pressed too thin.
“Great.”
Why did his eyes have to be so amazing? They made it far too difficult to think around him, much less think rationally.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize that he was running around like a hen without a head until he let out a frustrated groan.
“What?” I asked.
“My keys.”
I stifled a laugh, momentarily forgetting about the tension. “Have you checked your pockets?”
He felt at them again, patting his slacks. I noticed that he was dressed less casually than norm
al—dark slacks, a white-ish shirt that had probably rolled around with something blue in the laundry once upon a time, and a slim black tie that made him look a bit like a hipster.
“I must have forgotten them in the lecture hall,” he said.
“Then how did you get into your office?”
“Good point.” He rushed inside the bright room again, pushing around piles of photographs on the desk.
“I can check your desk if you want to check your bag,” I offered.
He didn’t look up. “It’s all right, you can check my bag. I’m out of secrets.”
Feeling a warm tingle of affection, I opened his leather briefcase and leafed through the photographs, scanning for a key somewhere in the general mess. I grasped around something that reminded me of his key chain, pulled it up and blushed as I stared at a pair of handcuffs.
“Seriously?” I mostly asked myself, but Cameron caught me in the act of dangling the metal piece in the air.
“Oh, that…” He cleared his throat. “Never know when something like that comes in handy.”
“Handy?” Blushing was most likely the wrong response on my side, but I was a tad too innocent for this stuff, and a pun didn’t help—even if it was funny.
He scratched his head and I thought I saw a faint tinge of red on his cheeks. Cameron blushing might be the most adorable sight ever.
“Well, you know…” he tried.
I waved him off. “You don’t have to explain.” I dropped the handcuffs back into the briefcase then continued to search until Cameron announced his relief.
He held the keys in the air and shook his head. “Can’t believe I put them in the drawer.”
“I can,” I said, not the least bit surprised. I was more surprised that he’d put a pair of handcuffs in his briefcase.
Silence stretched for one second too long, and suddenly the walls appeared to move closer, trapping us in a space that barely fit the two of us.
“What did you want to talk about? Or was there another reason for coming?” he asked.
Words escaped me. Air escaped. Nothing worked apart from my beating heart that thumped louder and louder. Maybe Chris had read the signals wrong. Why had I even listened? This was a disaster in the making.
“I-I…are you free tonight?” Maybe he already had plans. Maybe he had a date with someone else. Maybe he thought it was silly to go on a date anyway. Or maybe he wanted to wait until the grades were settled, or any other… I tried to pause my jumbled thoughts.
He placed a hand on my shoulder as if he’d heard the chaos inside my brain. “I’m free.”
Such a simple sentence, but what did it mean?
Another silence covered both of us like a heavy blanket—stifling and suffocating.
“Want to have dinner?” I asked, almost too nervous to meet his gaze.
His face lit up in a smile. “I’d love that.”
I couldn’t believe he’d said yes. I was freaking out, big time.
“But only if I get to take you out, not the other way around.”
“Huh?”
“It’s my treat. I’ve wanted to ask you first, but you beat me to it.”
“Oh, okay.” I was trying to process his words. Had he said that he wanted to ask me out?
“Adam?”
“Yes.”
“You spaced out.”
“Oh, sorry.” The constant embarrassment couldn’t be healthy.
“Favorite restaurant?”
“I don’t mind where we go. Just no funny business.”
He burst out laughing, shaking his head again and again until he managed to calm down. I couldn’t believe I had said that.
With a certainty that I lacked, he took my hand and squeezed gently. “I promise.”
I thought I would die right there in his office. Death by embarrassment. What a way to go.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The street was far from quiet, but none of the sounds from passing cars and strolling pedestrians reached me as I approached the door to Cameron’s picturesque town house. With my heart beating wildly against my ribs, I inhaled the city air deep into my lungs. It smelled of warm pavement and tasted like a mixture of paint and exhaust.
The wine bottle was cold in my hand, but I gripped it tightly as I finally braved the knock on the wooden door. It was stupid to bring wine if we were going out, but it felt wrong to meet up at his place with nothing.
Once. Twice.
The sound reminded me of all the times I had stood before Gabriel’s door, afraid of what would meet me when the handle turned. But Cameron wasn’t Gabriel. Cameron was sane where Gabriel wasn’t. Cameron had been there for me when Gabriel hadn’t. Cameron was so much more than the idealized idea of a person who had, in fact, never existed in the first place. At least that was what my therapist had tried to tell me.
Swallowing my excess saliva, I backed away and tried to calm down. It was just dinner. Nothing else.
I must have spaced out longer than I thought, because the door swung open, taking me by surprise. I swallowed again, fidgeting with just about everything as I openly gawked at the man before me. Maybe it was the knowledge that I was free to finally admire him that made him insanely attractive, or maybe it was the warm glint in his eyes.
He still wore that silly slim black tie that I wanted to tug.
“Hey,” he said, backing away from the opening to let me inside.
“Hey.” I fought to find something more enigmatic to say, but my tongue got stuck.
“Want to sit down for a while? They called about the reservation. Apparently they’re running a bit late. Can I take your jacket?”
Feeling jitters all over, I shrugged out of my thin jacket and attempted to hand it over—something that should have been simple enough, but my life had ceased to be simple long ago. I held on to the fabric with determination, and we ended up in a weird tug of war.
“You okay?” he asked when I wouldn’t let go.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
I let go of the jacket. “I’m sure. Just nervous.” And why did I have to tell him that?
A smile spread on his lips. “No need to be.”
“I know.”
“I remember. No funny business.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, but it was a nice kind of warmth. I finally managed to find a smile and Cameron seemed to relax with me.
“Would you like something to drink? Wine, or would you rather have a beer?” he asked.
“No. I mean… Whatever you’re having.”
He chuckled, and I knew I’d made a fool of myself again. He didn’t comment, however, and we migrated into the kitchen.
He appeared perfectly at ease, as if it were the most natural thing in the world that I walked around in his house. Perhaps it was something that should have calmed me down, but it had the opposite effect. He was sure where I fumbled. He was confident while I lost myself in his gaze.
“Why don’t you put on some music while I prepare this?”
“Sure.” Relieved to have a task, I went to look for some kind of sound system. The town house wasn’t big, but it was incredibly cozy. The large living room windows opened up to a lawn at the back with some miniature trees and hedges. It was a tranquil oasis in the middle of the city, hidden from view by the surrounding buildings.
Turning away from the garden, I saw some speakers in the corner, and it didn’t take long to find the stereo. A shelf full of CDs stole my attention and I skimmed through the titles. I recognized about half of them. Grinning, I took one of them and went back into the kitchen.
“Really, Cameron. Absolute 90s?” I showed him the CD case. “Who gets stuff like this?”
He winced but broke into a smile. “I think I got that fifteen years ago. Christmas 2001 maybe.”
I began to chuckle, and it soon turned into a full laugh when he tried to take it from my hands.
“I’ll have you know that there are some decent hits on this one.”
I clutched both the case and my strained stomach. “No. No. Don’t,” I forced out while laughing. The bastard resorted to tickling me to get what he wanted. That wasn’t playing fair at all.
“Go put that on and I’ll prove it to you,” he said, still touching me with his warm hands. The caress ignited a fire so bright that he didn’t have to say another word. I needed to compose myself before I did something stupid.
“Fine. Fine. I’ll put it on.”
He let go instantly. “Good. Track seven.”
Breathing heavily, I tried to calm my racing heart. “Okay. But I’ll be the judge. If that song sucks, I’m finding something else.” Before he could attack me again, I fled into the living room and got everything going.
When the song started to play, it seemed like my laughing just wouldn’t stop.
“Cameron, what is this?”
He danced out of the kitchen, singing tremendously off-key.
“Oh my God, stop. Stop!” My stomach hurt so badly, muscles spasming as I laughed.
He took my hands and forced me into a strange dance that ended up with our chests pressed together and his lips against my ear.
“Oh ah—just a silly song. Oh ah, a little bit wrong,” he sang, this time in perfect pitch.
I was crying tears of laughter. Slipping my arms around his neck, I clung to him, feeling like the happiest guy ever. He was insane, goofy and amazing all at the same time.
Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
* * * *
With my fingers clasped around a delicate wine glass, I inhaled a calming lungful of air. I had no reason to be nervous, but as soon as a more serious atmosphere settled around us, I fought to keep my cool. Overly aware of absolutely everything across the restaurant, my nerves danced far too close to the surface.
Every texture beneath my fingertips told a tale, every waft of a scent called at my memories, every sound battered my brain, but worst of all were all those little details I noticed when my gaze constantly lingered a second too long on Cameron. The slight curve of his upper lip, the way his long lashes fluttered through the air every time he blinked, the dimple that appeared on his right cheek when he smiled—those minuscule details latched onto my retina and sent my heart thumping faster and faster.
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