by Jay McLean
***
He takes my hand as we climb my porch steps. "Are we good?" he asks.
"Yeah babe." His speech and the drive home helped to calm me down.
We stop at the top of the stairs when we see Dad sitting on the porch, an abundance of papers on the table in front of him. Some of them are scrunched up on the floor.
"Dad?"
His gaze lifts. "Hey kids, how was the movie?"
I pull on Cam's hand until we're standing next to him. Shrugging, I answer, "The book was better."
"What's this?" Cam says, his eyes frantically scanning the papers on the table.
"It's the cause of all my problems, Cameron," Dad sighs.
Cam pulls out a chair and takes a seat, his eyes never leaving the spread of papers. He picks one and brings it closer to him. I've been around Dad's work enough to know that they're development plans.
"Coffee?" I ask them.
"Yes please." They both answer.
When I come back out with their coffees, they haven't moved. I doubt they've even spoken.
I take a seat next to Cam and watch him. His brows are drawn in concentration. His lips are pressed tight but his eyes—his eyes are everywhere, taking everything in. I turn my attention to Dad, who's doing the exact same thing. "What's the problem?"
He sips his coffee and sighs. "I was so close to finalizing this contract with these developers. The draftsman I hired had it all planned out and it looked great. Last minute, the developers changed their minds."
"Why?" Cam asks, his gaze never lifting. He pulls another sheet off the pile and inspects it.
"They say they want more yard space." Dad leans forward on his elbows. "The draftsman got pissed and quit. I have until Monday to submit a new plan and I got nothing." He rubs his eyes. "I can't lose this contract, but I have absolutely no idea how the hell I can change it."
I smile and pat his forearm. "I'm sure you'll work it out, Dad."
I get up and walk to the front door. "Cam?"
"Huh?"
"You coming inside?"
"Yeah," he says, taking one final look before standing up and joining me.
I lie on the couch with my feet on his lap trying to read. The TV's on but he's not watching. Instead, he's tapping away on his phone, his features bunched in concentration. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," he says quickly.
I leave him alone. Clearly, I'm interrupting.
"Shit," he huffs, roughly shoving my feet off him and onto the floor. "Sorry," he says, but he's half way out the front door.
I get up and run a hand down my skirt. I should be angry, but I'm too damn confused.
Cam is standing next to Dad at the table, his finger pointing to the plans in front of them. "Flip it!"
"What?" Dad says.
"Flip it. You want more yard space? Flip it. No one uses the front yard anyway, especially when it's not fenced, it's just wasted space so a car can fit in front of the garage. Flip it. Enter from the back. Single blocks between lanes right?" He's talking way too fast, and it's clear my dad can't keep up. "Just enter from the back and move the kitchen to the other side, that way they're looking into the yard instead of the street. You can move the top floor forward this way, and the master can have a balcony if you want and the... what are these?" He points to the plans.
"The support posts?"
"Yeah... them. You can extend them, right? If the buyers want to pay a premium you can build a patio there." He taps his finger twice. "You can raise it, have a spa or something. There's nothing blocking it... what? What's that?" He looks closer. "The laundry room window. You can get rid of the window. No one needs that shit."
Dad blows out a slow breath. "I'm trying to understand what you're saying, Cam, but I can't picture it."
Cam groans. "Just flip some of the elements."
Dad grimaces. "I don't get it."
"Just flip it!" His words come out frustrated and he knows it, because he apologizes right away.
I stand next to him and settle my hand on his back to calm him.
He looks down at me with his lips pursed, but it's obvious his thoughts are elsewhere. Wrapping his arms around my shoulders, he brings me flush against him and kisses the top of my head. And that's how we stay, with him silently holding me, and me having no idea what the hell is happening. Dad watches, but he doesn't speak. And slowly, I feel Cam's body relax. He pulls back and smiles, genuinely this time. "Okay," he breathes out. He turns to dad. "Have you got a blank sheet and a pen?"
He sits on the seat with the pen in his hand, but then he freezes. "Go on," Dad tells him.
He swallows loudly and looks up at me. The look of hesitation and self-doubt in his eyes almost kills me. I rest my hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to if you feel like you can't."
He blinks once and rushes out all the air in his lungs. Then he snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me onto his lap. "You make me want to try," he whispers in my ear.
And then he does it.
He puts pen to paper.
With one hand on my waist and the other working frantically, he begins to create something amazing.
"Holy shit," Dad repeats over and over, but I don't think Cam hears him.
Dad's eyes keep moving from Cam's hand to me, his head shaking slowly the entire time.
When Cam's done, he throws the pen on the table and pushes his sketch under Dad's nose. His gaze lifts to mine, the same uncertainty from before fills them. "You did good, babe," I assure.
"Good?" Dad's voice booms.
We both turn to him.
"Holy shit, kid. How did you—I mean—I've been sitting here for hours and you, you sit down with a pen and a piece of paper and you make something. You get it. You have an image in your head and you make it happen." He shakes his head again and lets out a disbelieving laugh. "Did you know he could do this?" he asks me.
I nod proudly.
He looks at Cameron. "What you have is absolute raw talent." He starts to pack the papers in the briefcase but pauses mid movement. "You could be an architect."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
-CAMERON-
"Your girlfriend's looking hot these days."
I turn to Matt, whose eyes are fixed on Lucy sitting in the bleachers. Her dad and a few of her brothers are with her. They've been coming to all my games recently. I asked her why; she just said it was because they wanted to support me.
"She's always been hot," I tell him, trying to keep my jealousy in check.
"You guys have been together what? A year now?"
"A year and a half."
He lets out a long¸ low whistle. "That's a long time. The sex doesn't bore you already?"
I quickly drop my gear bag and shove him hard. He falls to the ground with a stupid smirk on his face. "Shut the fuck up."
He laughs while he gets up and dusts himself off. "Dude, we're just talking. What's your problem?"
I shove him again, but this time, he's ready for it. Lucky for him, Jake and Logan get between us.
"Quit talking shit or you'll really see what my problem is."
I feel Lucy's presence before I hear her. "What made Punchy Cam come out?" she asks Logan.
Matt laughs again. I fucking hate this kid. "Nothing baby," he croons, winking at her.
My fist begins to fly but Logan's arms hold me back.
Matt continues anyway, "Just talking about how boring your sex life must be."
"Come on, babe," she says, holding my bag up for me. She pulls on my arm until I've turned and we’re walking away.
"What? You can go around throwing insults but you have nothing for him?"
She's silent all the way to her car—her mom's old one. She got her license a few weeks ago. I guess the novelty of me driving her everywhere had finally worn out.
I sulk in the passenger’s seat while she starts the car. "Is he right?"
"What?"
"Are you bored? Of our sex life, or lack of?"
My eyes roll
so high I see stars. "No. And I don't care that he said that. I care that he thinks he can talk shit about you. And now you're letting him get away with it."
She turns to me now, with an emotion on her face I can't decipher. "Are you, though? I mean, is that why you're really pissed? Not because you think he might be right?"
I throw my head back against the seat. "This is dumb, Luce. I'm not having this conversation."
"Fine," she murmurs, pulling out of the spot.
***
"Matt's been talking shit about your virgin ass."
I freeze with the burger halfway to my mouth. Glaring at Logan first, and then the entire cafeteria, I answer, "Matt can lick a shit stained ball sack."
Jake laughs, Logan—he just smirks. "You guys haven't... ?"
I sigh, dropping the burger on my tray and crossing my arms. "It's no one's business but ours. We don't have a problem with it so no one else should."
He nods slowly. "That's a long time."
"I thought I had it bad," Jake murmurs.
Logan scoffs. "Shut up with your self appointed vow of celibacy. No one gives a shit." He turns to me. "Cam though—"
"Shut up." I throw my burger at his head, but he ducks too fast and it hits the chick behind him.
The girl turns, her eyes narrowed. "Hey babe, you do something different with your face?" Logan says to her.
Her cheeks redden before she turns back around, giggling with all her little friends.
"You're fucked," I tell him.
He stretches his arms out. "At least one of us is."
Jake backhands Logan's chest before jerking his head to get my attention. "Are you guys waiting—for marriage I mean—because if so, that's cool. No judgement."
I shake my head. "No. It's not like that..." I lean forward on my elbows and move in so no one else can hear. They do the same. "She has this thing with vaginas."
Logan's eyes go huge. "You mean she likes them?"
I rear back. "What? No! What? No! Oh my God, no! She thinks they're weird."
Logan pulls away, his face a mixture of confusion and disappointment. "What the hell does that mean?"
Shrugging, I answer, "I have no idea. She doesn't want me to see it or touch it."
"You can't even look at it?" Dylan asks. I hadn't even realized he'd joined us.
I shake my head. "It's like she thinks it's the Bermuda triangle or something. She's too afraid to let anyone venture in or out."
We all laugh, but I cut mine off when I see her approaching. "Shut up, she's coming."
They do their best to stifle their laughs.
"Oh my God, babe, I'm so hungry." She sits on my lap and starts to pick at my food.
"So am I," Logan says. "You know what I'd love right now?" He looks around the table. "Tacos."
Jake covers his mouth to stop from spitting his drink. Once he's settled, he leans back in his chair. "You know what they have at Subway now? Ham Wallets."
Dylan pipes up. "I had to return this shirt at the store yesterday. It had wizard sleeves."
"What?" Lucy asks.
And then it hits me—what they're doing. "Shit."
"I know that store," Logan muses. "They have costumes right? I wanted to get this one of an axe wound."
They all crack up, unable to keep it in any longer.
"I hate that store." Jake this time. "It smells like clams."
I feel Lucy tense. "What the hell?" she whispers.
"Whispering eye," Logan sings, just as Heidi takes a seat.
"Meat curtains," Dylan deadpans.
"Coin purse." Jake again.
"Pink sink," Logan laughs.
Then Heidi speaks up. "Why are you all talking about vaginas?"
Lucy gasps loudly before turning to me. "You told them?" she squeals.
I shake my head, but my lips are clamped between my teeth and my face is red. I want to laugh. Oh my God, I need to laugh.
"Punaani," Logan shouts.
"Stop it!" Lucy deadpans. "It's not funny you guys! They're weird. And ugly. Really ugly!"
The others shake their heads at her. "No, they're not," Dylan says.
"I don't know." She eyes us all one by one, before leaning in and whispering, "What if I have a clitorusaurus-rex?"
***
She's leaning against my car waiting for me after school. "I'm going to the mall with Heidi."
"What?" I was smiling a second ago, and now I'm pissed. Not at her, but because Logan's right. About the being whipped thing. Not the sex. Maybe a little about the sex. "You never hang out with Heidi."
"I know." She shrugs.
I drop my bag and step forward, pushing her into my car. Holding her hand, I lift it and place it around my waist, then I drop my head on her shoulder and hope that no one else can hear me. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever. I miss you."
She chuckles quietly. "We spent all of yesterday together."
"It's not enough."
She twists her finger through the hair below my cap. "Are you being needy?"
"Yes." I kiss her neck.
"I'll come by afterward."
"I can come with you."
She pulls back, her cheeks already red from her blush. "You can't, it's a girl thing."
My eyes narrow. "A girl thing?"
"She's taking me to clean up my wizard sleeve."
***
I don't know what the hell she means by cleaning up her wizard sleeve so I do what any normal teenage boy would do; I go home, run to my room, open my laptop and Google it. I'm on the third page of Google Images when I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Your mom has that landing strip thing."
I shut my laptop and dry heave. No joke. I run to the bathroom and bend over the toilet, trying to mentally remove my mom's landing strip from all the vaginas I've just seen.
Mark leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.
"You're an asshole."
"I try." He shrugs. "Let me guess, you’re going to call it research?"
I stand up and wipe the spit off my chin. "Lucy—" I cut myself off. "Never mind."
"You sure? All jokes aside, if you need to talk about it, I'm here."
I eye him as I pass, looking for any hint of mockery. Mockery? Is that even a word?
Throwing myself on the bed, I cover my eyes with my arm, and then I tell him.
Everything.
Even about the now infamous clitorusaurus-rex.
He listens the entire time, never interrupting. When I'm done, he lets out a breath with a whoosh. "You're on your own, buddy."
And then he leaves.
I just told him about my girlfriend's vagina-lock and all he does is leave.
"I'm never getting laid."
***
"I have a solution to your problems, Luce," Logan says.
It's been three days since Vaginagate and it's been the major topic of conversation during lunch. Everyone's talking about my girlfriend's vagina, and I haven't even seen it yet.
"What's that?" she asks.
"Liquid courage."
I should tell him to shut up, but he kind of has a point, and I'm not the only one that thinks so. Lucy slowly swivels on my lap, her eyebrow raised in question.
I shrug. We've never gone to parties together. I just assumed it wasn't her thing. Occasionally I'd go out with the boys and have a beer, then leave and find myself on her doorstep. After the fifth time, her dad stopped questioning it.
"What do you think?" she asks.
"I think you should do whatever you want, babe."
-LUCY-
"Run back upstairs and change, girly," Dad says, but he's smiling.
"You're lucky," I tell him. "I'm seventeen and going to my first high school party."
His eyebrows rise. "Are you gonna drink?"
I grab my keys off the counter. "Do you want me to lie?"
"Yes."
"Then no. I'm not drinking."
"That's my girl."
; ***
Cam's front door opens before I can knock. His mom stands at the entryway with her eyes wide. "You look..."
I grimace. "Whoreish?"
She laughs. "No, hon, you look beautiful."
I look down at myself. I'm not wearing anything too different from what I wear every day. My skirt's a little shorter and my top's a little tighter. Heidi helped me pick them out. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. "Hon," she says again. "I'm just—" She laughs and shakes her head slowly. "You're like a daughter to me, and I just feel like I've watched you grow up, you know? You look like a woman, and I'm just used to my little girl."
Her words cause an ache in my chest, and instantly I'm crying.
She raises her hand to pat my cheek, or so I think, but she's wiping away my tears. "You thinking about your mom?"
I nod, because I don't want to speak. I don't want my words to replace the echo of hers in my mind.
She moves forward and wraps me in her arms. "I couldn't have wished for a better girl for my Cameron."
"What did that asshole do?" Mark’s voice booms from behind her. We pull apart laughing.
"Nothing," Heather says, patting him on the chest. "Let's go." She winks at me. "Cameron's in his room getting ready, and we are going on a date night."
"I hope I get laid," Mark jokes, as they both brush past me.
I run upstairs and open Cam's door without knocking.
And then I freeze.
He's walking out of his bathroom in nothing but boxer shorts—both hands holding the towel, roughly drying his hair. His body is wet, not all over, just on his shoulders. My eyes transfix on a bead of water as it falls slowly down his collarbone, down his chest, past each ridge of his abs. When the hell did he get those?
I try to swallow, but my mouth's too dry. And now, so are my eyes, because I can't blink. I don't want to. I don't want to miss it when the bead of water gets caught in the hair just above the waist of his boxers, and disappears into...
Holy shit.
A gasp catches in my throat.
"Hey," he says, his eyes focused on mine. But only for a moment before they trail down, and down, and then back up. They stop at my breasts, widening as they do. He licks his bottom lip, then slowly runs his teeth across it. The movement so slow, so mesmerizing.