He was born lucky.
I was lucky to be born.

Cameron's POV

I sat up in bed and yawned. I glanced over at my alarm clock and it was 6:30. Call me sleepy, but something wasn't right. I got out of bed and took a shower. God, I hate Mondays.

When I made it down to the kitchen 30 minutes later, I was positive that something was wrong. The kitchen was empty. I scratched the back of my head. My little sister Maya should be waiting eating breakfast and rushing to catch her bus right now. Then it hit me like a truck.
It was the first day of summer. I could be sleeping right now.

I trudged up the stairs and dropped my backpack by my bedroom door. Without bothering to undress, I curled up under my comforter and closed my eyes.

Suddenly, my phone beeped. What kind of inconsiderate person would text someone else at 7 am on the first day of summer? I groaned and grabbed my phone. It was my best friend, Trent. Figures. No one is less considerate than he. The message read, "Any plans for today?" I texted back one word:

"Sleep." I promptly went to sleep.

In what seemed less than five minutes, the doorbell began ringing incessantly. I came down stairs in my boxers. I must have undressed while I was half asleep and forgotten about it. I opened the door to find Trent with a basketball under his arm. "Dude!" he shouted for all of Los Angeles to hear. "A little warning before you force me to see that!" He waved his hands at me. I stared at him in disbelief. Not only was he barging into my house while any sensible person would be sleeping, but he just accused ME of not giving HIM a head's up.

Trent had moved past my choice of clothing. "Hurry up, I told the guys we would be at the park in ten," he informed me. "I'm not going," I told him.

"But you said you weren't doing anything!" he whined.

"I said I was sleeping!" I shot back.

"I read between the lines."

"What!" I shrieked. "It was a one word text!"

"Oh, just hurry up and get dressed. We leave in five," he told me as if he was my mother.

Ugh… why does he always win this kind of argument? I am clearly the more sensible of the two of us, yet he always gets his way, and his way always gets me in trouble. "Fine," I mumbled and headed back upstairs to get dressed. Behind me I heard Trent open the refrigerator.

I sighed as Trent made another basket. I had been wondering why the other guys were awake right now. As it turns out, by 'the guys,' Trent meant his grandfather and his great-uncle. The score was 76 to 0, and we had only been playing for about half an hour.

Trent's great-uncle hobbled to the bench. "I've had enough," he said. "You kids sure know how to put it in the hole." I am going to pretend I never heard that.

"Well, Roger and I are gonna go to the beach to see what fine specimens of women are out there today." Trent's grandfather told us. Again, I am going to try to forget that. I mean seriously, not only are they like 80, but they're both married! Considering Trent's family, I guess I should just be thankful he turned out so normal.

"Later, bro and brah!" he yelled after his two relatives. What did that even mean!?

Trent and I walked over to the bench. He produced a giant bucket of fried chicken from his sports duffel. Normally I would question this, but I was hungry. Within ten minutes, the two of us had consumed the entire bucket. I walked a little ways to the trash can to throw away the bones, and as I turned around something caught my eye.

It was a boy. He looked about my age, maybe a year younger. I noticed him because he was staring at me. It was creepy. To make things creepier, he had blood running down his left arm, and it looked like it had dried. He was just sitting against a tree, watching me. I decided to brush it off. He probably just fell and scraped his elbow. Without a second thought, I walked back to where Trent was impatiently waiting for me.