FIFTEEN
I don’t even know your last name.
I check my email the next morning out of habit, and am surprised to see that I have one from Scott.
From: Lonerguy279
To: Pinkstar737
Subject: Hi.
Dear Pinkstar737,
Can we still talk to each other on here?
Sincerely,
Lonerguy279
I hit reply.
From: Pinkstar737
To: Lonerguy279
Subject: RE: Hi.
Dear Lonerguy279,
I would like that.
You helped me get through some of the hardest times in my life. These emails, for a long time, were the only thing that made me be excited about waking up. YOU made me excited. It doesn’t change now that I know it was you.
Sincerely,
Pinkstar737
P.S. Can we stop sounding so formal? Also, can I stop signing it with my stupid screen name? Because I hate my screen name. What was 13-year-old me thinking?
I am relieved that Scott still wants to email me. I’m not ready to let go of that part of my life just yet.
My phone goes off, so I pull it out of my back pocket.
Cam: Want to get coffee?
Me: Is that even a real question? Because, YES. I always want coffee.
I shut my laptop just as there is a knock on my door.
Why does he always text me when he’s almost to my door?
I get up, putting my phone back in my pocket and open the door.
“You’re fast,” I tell him.
He grins. “Should I give you more of a warning?”
“Nah,” I say. “I like that you text me when you’re basically outside my door. It’s cute.”
“Cute?” he asks.
“Cute.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended that you’re calling me cute,” he says.
“I said your action is cute. Not that you specifically are cute,” I say, clarifying what I was saying.
“So I’m not cute?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe that leads into my room.
“I didn’t say that either,” I say, now smiling at him.
“Am I cute?” he asks.
“Are you fishing for compliments?” I ask.
“Maybe.”
“Cam, you don’t need me to tell you that you’re hot. You already know that you are,” I say, putting on my favorite hoodie. I do not want to see what his reaction to that is. I walk towards the door and Cam walks out into the hallway. I lock the door behind me.
“So you think I’m hot?” Cam asks.
“Obviously,” I answer, walking ahead of him. “Along with every other female that has ever met you.”
“Right. I have a long line of girls that I’m getting coffee with after you,” Cam says. “If I die, it’s from caffeine overdose.”
I stop and turn to look at him. I know he’s joking, but the thought of him hanging out with another girl bugs me a little bit. “Am I keeping you from a date?”
He grins at me. “Trust me, Isla. There is nobody else in the whole world I’d rather be with right now than you.”
Stupid butterflies.
Stupid fluttering heart.
Stupid, stupid crush.
I haven't had a crush on a boy since I was sixteen years old. Back then, I had a crush on a lot of different guys. To be honest, I just wanted a boyfriend. I wasn't picky. But after… what happened… I have just been trying to get over what happened. I haven't even noticed a guy until I met Cam.
“I was kidding about there being other girls,” he says. “It was sarcasm, I promise.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I say as we walk out the front of my dorm building.
“I haven’t been out on a date since I was seventeen. And I was awkward then, so it doesn’t count,” he says.
“Why haven’t you been on a date in two years?”
“Long story,” he says, pacing beside me. “I promise it’s not that interesting.”
“Maybe I’m interested,” I say. “I told you all the horrible and gory details about me. It’s only fair you do the same.”
“I just wasn’t interested in dating,” he says.
I know what it’s like to deflect questions and give half answers so people will stop asking. And that is exactly what Camden is doing right now. So I will leave him alone, because I hate being pushed when I don’t want to talk. But I wonder what has happened to him. I know it’s something more than his crappy childhood when his dad and mom left. When he’s ready, he will tell me.
A few minutes later, we walk into the coffee shop to get our orders. The barista knows both mine and Cam’s orders before we even ask. Micah may think it’s weird that I order the same thing every time, but I’m glad to know that Cam does it too.
“My grandparents are coming into town again this weekend,” Cam says. “You and Scott should come and eat dinner with us. I know my grandparents would love it, and Giggi keeps asking if she can see you again.”
I laugh. “Funny. She hated me when we first met.”
“She was having a bad day.”
“I know. Just think it’s awesome how much things have changed,” I say, then take a drink of my latte. “I’ll talk to Scott. I’m sure he’d love to come.”
“You like having your stepbrother here?” Cam asks.
“So much,” I say. “I didn’t realize how much I missed him over the past year and a half. I know he’s missed me too. It finally feels like after my life fell apart, it’s coming back together for the first time.”
“That’s good,” he says, smiling.
“More good than you realize,” I say. “Whenever everything first happened, I thought I would spend the rest of my life in a mental institution. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through.”
Camden’s eyes fill with tears. “I can’t imagine going through what you did.”
“The hardest part for me was living. I got to live while everybody else died,” I say. “And I sometimes wonder what the parents of the other kids think. They must wonder why I got to live when their child died. I used to wish that I hadn’t.”
“What about now?”
“I’m glad now,” I say. “But it’s taken a year and a half to feel this way. And lots of therapy. As much as I hate to admit it, my therapist was right. Getting out of Atlanta and coming here was exactly what I needed.”
“I'm sorry that it happened to you,” Cam says.
I shrug. “It's not your fault. It's Derek’s fault. He was a sick kid. Unfortunately, nobody saw it before it was too late.”
“Yeah,” he says, playing with the sleeve on his coffee cup.
“We don't have to talk about this,” I say, knowing this kind of stuff isn't easy for anybody to hear. I'm honestly just glad I can talk about it now. A few months ago, I was holding it all inside.
“I don't mind,” he says. “It's just… really hard to hear.”
“I understand,” I say. “I was thinking the other day that I literally know nothing about you. I mean, I feel like we've known each other forever, but I don't even know your last name.”
“M… Malloy,” he says, drawing out his M. “My last name is Malloy.”
“Where are you from? Like, where do you and your grandparents live?”
“Savannah,” he answers.
“Cool,” I say. “It's beautiful there.”
“Very,” he says.
An awkward silence falls between us, and I can't help but think that Cam doesn't like to talk about himself. Which I understand, but it also is weird considering he literally took me to meet his family the first time we ever hung out.
“I was wondering,” he says, finally looking up from his coffee. “My grandparents want Giggi and me to come home in a couple weeks for the weekend. Would you go with me?”
“Are you sure they want me to come?” I ask. “I mean, I don't want to intrude on your family time.”
“I'm sure they don't mind,” he says. “My family loves you. My grandparents specifically asked me to invite you.”
“Really?” I ask.
He nods.
Do him and his family really talk about me? It's just seems so strange. I mean, Camden and I are just friends. And even if we were… more… we just met about a month ago.
But then again, his family is kind of weird. The whole dinner that I had with them was really bizarre. So maybe this is normal for them. Either way, I want to go, because I do like them. And Cam. I really, really like Cam.
“Okay,” I say. “Sounds fun.”
He smiles at me, and I realize he could probably get me to agree to anything as long as he keeps smiling at me like that.