I nodded and shut the lone eye I had opened.
A second later I felt a finger poke me in the ribs. “No napping.”
“Fine,” I said as I opened my eyes and sat up in my seat. “You just want someone to annoy because you’re bored.”
“You’ve caught on to my devious plan,” he quipped.
“So, how do you plan to annoy me?” I asked.
“Want to make some Top Three lists?” His enthusiasm bordered on irritating and it was at least halfway between irksome and trying.
I screwed up my nose. “Not really.”
“Great, I’ll start,” he said, completely ignoring my non-acceptance of his offer.
I shook my head then gave an exasperated sigh. “Top three what?” I groaned.
“We’ll start with Top Three Songs.”
“Recent or ever?” I asked.
“Ever,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“I’ve never played this game before,” I said.
“It’s not a game,” he stated. “It’s a fact-finding mission.”
“Okay, my Top Three Songs ever are: Come as You Are by Nirvana, No Rain by Blind Melon and People are Strange by the Doors.”
Cameron looked at me and his eyes narrowed. “All of the lead singers died young, didn’t they? Is that a coincidence?”
“Kurt Cobain shot himself at age 27. Shannon Hoon died at age 28 of a cocaine overdose and Jim Morrison died at 27 of a suspected heroin overdose.”
“So is it actually the songs that you like or the stories that go with the musicians?”
“Both,” I admitted.
“What about Born This Way by Lady GaGa?” he asked.
“What about it?”
He grabbed my hand and turned it over to expose my wrist where I had the tattoo of my brother’s birthday and Born This Way.
“You have it tattooed on your wrist. It’s not one of your favorite songs?”
I pulled my hand from his grasp. “No,” I snapped. “It’s not.”
Cameron looked hurt and I immediately felt guilty about it. I took in a deep breath then exhaled. “It was Alex’s favorite song.”
He nodded. Then he slowly took my other hand and turned it over exposing the other tattoo that was the day my brother died and It Gets Better. We both stared at the tattoo for a few seconds. Then Cameron carefully placed his index finger on my wrist and gently traced the letters with his finger.
My breath caught as he continued to caress my wrist with his finger.
“Don’t you want to know what my Top Three Songs are?” he whispered.
I felt like every nerve ending in my body was suddenly on high alert as he continued to slowly and delicately move his finger over the lines of my tattoo. I swallowed. “Okay,” was all I could manage to get out.
“Loser by Beck, Fall to Pieces by Velvet Revolver, and You and Only You by We The Kings.”
“Interesting choices,” I said.
He was still caressing me with his finger. As he moved from my tattoo and slowly progressed up and down each of my fingers, I felt small shivers surge through my body. It felt good, too good. I panicked.
“Stop,” I whispered.
“Stop what?” he asked, even though I had a feeling he knew exactly what I meant.
“What you’re doing with your finger,” I replied.
He stopped moving his finger but he didn’t remove it from my skin. His eyes connected with mine. “Don’t you like it?”
I liked it too much and that was the problem. I didn’t want to like it at all. “It’s not appropriate,” I said instead.
“No one’s watching.”
I glanced around the bus and saw that the kids and other counselors were all busy, engaged in their own conversations. He was right. No one was paying any attention to us.
His eyes caught mine and his gaze was so intense, I felt like he was looking right through me. “What are you afraid of?” he asked.
“Liking you,” I admitted.
His eyes softened. “What’s so bad about that?”
I wanted to say: Because I need someone to hate. I need someone to be angry at. I need someone to blame for my brother’s death. But the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I knew it was because they weren’t really true anymore.
“Nothing,” I sighed.
He raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you could like me, maybe, sometime in the future?”
“Maybe, sometime in the future,” I agreed. Way in the future.
A small grin formed in the corner of his mouth. “I’ll take that. It gives me hope. I officially have something to look forward to.”
“If that’s all you have to look forward to, I feel very sorry for you.”
“Are you putting me down or are you putting yourself down?” he asked.
“Maybe a little of both.”
“I learned a very hard lesson that words have consequences. You need to think about what you say because once you put your words out there, you can’t take them back.”
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” I offered.
He looked at me with so much kindness, I wondered how he could ever have been a bully.
“I was talking about putting yourself down. Don’t do that. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”
“Oh, yeah, right. Guys have been falling all over themselves trying to date me. I hardly have time for anything else.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
We both stared at each other and the energy between us was palpable. I thought he might kiss me.
But it wasn’t the time or place and we both knew it. We just looked at each other. I noticed that he had a small scar over his left eyebrow. I wanted to reach out and run my finger along its jagged edge. It was an imperfection on someone I had always imagined to be perfect.
“How did you get that scar?” I asked.
He swallowed and his body grew tense. It was obviously a topic that made him uncomfortable.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” I said quickly.
“We’re almost back to campus,” he stated, clearly wanting to change the subject.
“Okay, I’ll make some announcements about the schedule for tomorrow.”
I could see him rubbing at the scar above his eye. Whatever had caused it, the scar was clearly more than a physical one. I realized there was a lot more to Cameron Connelly than I had ever imagined.
***
I spent most of Sunday doing laundry and reading about Ellis Island for our trip the following weekend. I had great-grandparents who were immigrants from Italy, but I had never given much thought to what they went through to come to the United States and my dad never talked about it. We actually didn’t talk at all since Alex died. As much as I wanted to learn more about my heritage, I didn’t want to talk to my dad even more. He’d started dating a woman just a few years older than me. Her name was Anya and she was from some country that had been part of the Soviet Union. I couldn’t remember which one nor did I care. It didn’t seem to bother Anya that my dad’s divorce from my mother wasn’t even finalized yet.
I was a little surprised that I didn’t hear anything from Cameron at all on Sunday. I knew he and Antonio were coaching a volleyball tournament amongst the kids. Sofia went to visit her mother in Jersey City for the day. My mother was visiting the Florida Keys for three weeks with an old friend from high school. That left me with my Ellis Island stories.
No one even bothered to knock on my door to get pizza for dinner, which kind of surprised me. I wondered what Cameron was doing and that surprised me even more. Was he with Antonio? Had they decided to go to Subway, which was Antonio and Sofia’s favorite fast food place? Why hadn’t they invited me? Maybe he had gone somewhere with Renee and Rachel. That didn’t seem likely but even the thought of it made my stomach clench. Was I actually getting jealous? It didn’t make sense. Cameron and I weren’t a couple. We weren’t anything. I thought maybe the interaction between us on the bus ride home fr
om Waterloo Village meant something, although I wasn’t sure what. Maybe it really didn’t mean anything at all.
As I looked in the mirror I suddenly felt disgusted with my hair. The cotton candy colors felt old and worn. I felt different, like I didn’t want to be so closed anymore. We had gotten our first paychecks and since I didn’t have to pay for room and board for the summer, I had a little bit of extra spending money that I normally didn’t have during the school year. I made a decision to use part of it to dye my hair back to a more normal color. My natural color was chestnut brown. It had been over a year since it was anything resembling a natural color and before that, my senior year of high school, I had dyed it black.
I headed towards the small shopping area that was closest to the end of campus where we were living. It was dusk and the campus was quiet. There wasn’t even the rustle of the renegade squirrel anywhere. I couldn’t decide if it was peaceful or eerie, probably because my mind was still too filled with crap for me to experience true peace.
When I got to the hair salon, only one customer was seated in the back of the place. It looked like she was just getting her bangs trimmed.
“Do you have time for a color?” I asked the older woman standing at the reception area.
She glanced down at her watch. “Yeah, I should have enough time. We don’t close until seven.”
The woman, who looked around my mother’s age; late forties, inspected my hair and asked, “Who did this to you?”
“One of the girls I went to high school with was studying to be a hair dresser and I let her practice on me.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “Did she ever get her license?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. She decided to move to LA to work on movie sets or something like that.”
“The only movies I could see her working on are horror films.”
I cringed. Was my hair really that bad?
“My name’s Dottie. Let’s go back to my booth and see if we can work some magic.”
Forty-five minutes later, magic had been worked. My hair was a light brown that really brought out my green eyes and it was in a shoulder length bob that actually made me look stylish but still approachable.
“You’re a real beauty, honey,” Dottie said as we both examined my new style in the mirror.
“You really think so?” I asked.
“You’ll have those college guys falling all over themselves to date you.”
I had to laugh. “That’s exactly what I told this guy would never happen.”
“And what guy is that?”
I shook my head. “Just some guy I work with.”
“I bet he’ll ask you out the minute he sees your new hair style.”
“It’s not like that,” I assured her.
“Honey, unless he’s gay, it’s always like that.”
Week Three
Monday morning came too quickly. It took me a while to recognize my own reflection in the mirror. I looked so different without the crazy colored hair. I actually felt a little nervous about seeing Cameron. What if he didn’t like my new style? And why did I care so much?
I spotted Sofia and Antonio at a table in the corner of the cafeteria. I had a banana and some yogurt on my plate as I had decided to take the advice of my peers and Dr. Jones and try to eat something substantial in the morning.
My friends’ jaws both dropped when I sat down.
Antonio whistled. “Girl, you look fine.”
I smiled a true and actual smile. It felt a little foreign but good.
“Who are you and what did you do with Dee Dee?” Sofia joked. “I need to go visit my mother more often. Look at what you decided to do. Has Cameron seen you yet?”
I shook my head.
“That boy is going to lose it. I’m telling you. He’s already falling for you, this will completely do him in.”
“Whatever,” I said. “I don’t think he’s falling for me.”
Antonio snorted. “Yeah, right. He doesn’t even know which way is up anymore.”
“Speak of the devil,” Sofia said as she gestured toward the buffet.
Cameron was holding his tray and scanning the cafeteria. He looked confused until his eyes landed on mine. His jaw dropped and he didn’t take his eyes off of me as he headed for our table.
He placed his tray next to mine and took the seat next to me.
“You look amazing,” he said as he took me in.
“Thanks,” I murmured, suddenly uncomfortable. I felt like I was on display. Sofia and Antonio were both still staring at me and Cameron hadn’t taken his eyes off me.
“Okay, that’s enough,” I said. “I’m still just Dee Dee, even if I look a little different on the outside.”
“If you looked just a little different, we wouldn’t be gawking,” Sofia scoffed as she tossed a raisin at me.
“Watch where you throw your dried fruit,” I said as I grabbed the raisin.
“At least I didn’t throw a prune at you. Or even worse, a date.”
“Do they even serve prunes and dates? Aren’t those for old people?”
“If they did, one would be headed in your direction.”
We all laughed. For the first time in a long time it felt good to have friends.
***
The week progressed at a snail’s pace. The kids were already starting to get tired and we hadn’t even made it past the half way mark. I knew if we could get through this week, the kids would be looking forward to our big overnight trips to New York and Washington, DC.
Sofia grabbed me after classes let out on Wednesday. “I have a surprise,” she said as she pulled me toward her car.
“I’m not too keen on surprises,” I replied.
“It’s a good one, I promise.”
***
“What are we doing at the mall,” I complained as Sofia pulled her Honda into the parking lot.
“We’re getting you some new clothes. Ones with some color. Now that your hair and makeup are toned down a bit, I thought we could work on your wardrobe. Besides, don’t you want something pretty to wear when we go out on Friday night?”
“Who said anything about going out on Friday night?”
Sofia frowned. “You mean he hasn’t asked you out yet?”
“If by he, you mean Cameron, the answer is no.”
She shook her head. “He’s nervous.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, right. What does Cameron Connelly have to be nervous about? When we were in high school, he went out with nearly the entire cheerleading squad.”
“Haven’t you changed a lot since high school?”
That was an understatement. “Of course. Everything changed after Alex died.”
“My point exactly. Didn’t you listen to Cameron when he gave his speech? Everything changed for him, too.”
“So you’re telling me he’s nervous about asking me out?” It sounded so ridiculous coming out of my mouth.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Now let’s find you a killer outfit for a night of dancing and fun.”
***
Two hours and a hundred dollars later, I had three new outfits. Two pairs of skinny jeans and v-neck T-shirts (one coral and one sapphire) and a little white summer dress.
“You’re definitely wearing that cute dress on Friday night. Cameron is just going to flip when he sees you in it.”
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“We need to rebuild you confidence,” Sofia stated.
“Rebuilding implies that I once had confidence, which I don’t think is the case.”
“Girl, you’ve got a lot going on.” She scanned up and down my body. “You just need to use it.”
“I will try,” I promised.
She eyed me. “Not try, just do.”
***
I put on my new skinny jeans and coral v-neck and looked at myself in the mirror. It had been so long since I’d worn anything but black, I had forgotten how certain colors looked with my light skin tone and light brown
hair. The coral was definitely complementary and brought out a little sparkle in my eyes that I hadn’t noticed before.
I heard a soft knock on my door. It was so soft, I wondered if I had actually heard it. But then it persisted.
When I answered it, I was surprised to see Cameron.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“Sure.” I stepped aside so he could enter.
He put his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. It was a gesture I was getting used to seeing when he seemed nervous.
“So, I was wondering what you were doing Friday night?”
I wanted to say: besides going to Bogey’s with you but I refrained. His voice seemed so fragile, I didn’t want to make him feel any more uncomfortable.
I looked up at him and stared into his rich green eyes. He swallowed then said, “Do you want to go to Bogey’s?”
“Are you asking me on a date?” I probed coyly.
He still looked so nervous and I thought he might break into a sweat at any moment. He nodded.
“Okay,” I replied.
“Okay?” he repeated, as if he didn’t believe me.
“Yes, I’ll go with you.”
A small grin replaced his pained expression. “I’ll come by at eight o’clock, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.”
He turned to leave then turned back toward me. “I really like that outfit. It’s a good color on you.”
He turned to leave then turned back again. Now I was the one who was grinning.
“One more thing,” he said as he leaned down and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. “Now I can go.”
I was completely stunned. I was going on a date with Cameron Connelly. Cameron Connelly had just kissed me. Granted, it was a peck on the forehead, but it was still a kiss. The world felt like it had turned completely upside down, or at least on its side. If you would have asked me a year ago, or even a month ago, who was one of the least likely people I would ever date, Cameron Connelly would have topped the list.
I glanced over at my photo of Alex. I wondered what he would think of me going out with Cameron. Would he understand? Would he consider it a betrayal? Would he want me to be happy?
After Alex Died Page 8