Hi there :) This is just an idea I had for a one shot... I hope you guys like it. Please let me know what you think!
Also, Happy Easter to everyone that celebrates it! And Happy Sunday to those of you that don't!
He feels her petite frame run into his muscular arms. He holds her until his strength starts to go limp, never wanting to let go. Her feet eventually find the ground and he breathes in the smell of her rosebud scented shampoo before releasing her from his grip.
Her glistening blue eyes find his warm brown ones before they both lean in and share a lingering kiss that neither wishes to break.
Forehead resting against hers, he finally becomes aware of the excessive PDA they are partaking in but finds it difficult to care. Slowly, he pulls away while his arm snakes its way around her waist. Her head leans on his shoulder and he finds himself wishing he could pause this moment and live in it forever.
"I'm so glad your suspension is over. I missed you, Cam."
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere any time soon. I missed you too, M."
Still linked together, they make their way into Degrassi ready to take on a new day.
Her bow dances across the strings of her cello, emitting a sound so beautiful he wonders if he's dreaming.
Those blue eyes he adores so much never leave the floor, completely focused on her task and lost in her music.
No matter how many times he has watched her play, it never ceases to amaze him how talented she really is, how amazing she really is.
Watching her blonde hair sway with her bobbing head, seeing her smile when she finishes her piece, noticing the nervousness return as she stumbles off stage, he swears he's falling for her all over again.
Finding her backstage, he wraps his arms around her hugging her close.
"You were amazing, My! They'd be crazy not to pick you. I'm so proud you."
She flashes him a rewarding smile. Intertwining their fingers, she squeezes his gently at a loss for words.
"Oh! I almost forgot... I think your charm is looking a little lonely." He tugs a small box out of his back pocket and opens it before attaching the new charm to her barren bracelet.
She stares at the star charm he had been saving since he gave her the first one in awe.
"A star?" A few tears well up in her eyes and she swears the smile residing on her face is permanent.
"Because you're destined to be a star and, even though you're already one to me, the world is going to recognize it one day. Trust me."
A few giggles escape her lips and seem to float around them.
"You never fail to live up to your nickname, Cheesy. Thank you, I love it."
A week later he sits legs tangled with hers on her living room couch when she gets the call.
She made it.
Tears are shed, kisses shared, and a congratulatory movie night commences. They spend the night wrapped around one another simply enjoying each other's company.
The blade taunts him. He has the incredible urge to grab the skate, slice, and revel in the temporary escape. But something has changed. He can't do it anymore. He sees the path he's headed down and he doesn't like it. Somewhat unconsciously he dials Maya's number.
"Can you come over? Please." His voice must sound pleading because she agrees immediately, promising to be there in ten minutes.
She finds him on the ground, leaning against his bed, head in hands. She notices the shiny object staring back at him but breathes a sigh of relief when she sees no sign of blood.
That night they just sit there, holding each other, as Cam confesses everything. His urges, his triggers, his regrets, they all fill the space around them. Instead of Maya fleeing in horror as Cam had always imagined, she ruffles his hair and whispers in his ear that she will never leave.
He braves his biggest fear and rolls up his hoodie sleeve to reveal the slew of scars he had accumulated over the years. The pink patches of torn skin stare up at him and all he can feel is shame. Shame, disappointment, and remorse.
That is until he feels soft, feather-like kisses skim each scar and two arms envelop him.
A feeling that he hasn't felt in ages gushes through him; he feels free. The weight on his shoulders lifts, he can finally breath again.
Their one year anniversary. Cam sits across the table from her, his snug polo already suffocating him enhanced by his nervousness, chugging back water attempting to assuage his dry mouth.
He wonders how they've gone so long without saying what he's about to. He smiles recounting their innocence and shyness that prevented them from saying what they felt.
So many times had he wanted to say it, to just come out with it. So many times had he recoiled from nerves.
But now, looking up from his averted gaze, he sees her, really sees her. Her blonde hair is cascaded over her right shoulder, a hinting smile plays on her lips, her eyes are full of happiness and light and love and he's taken aback by how beautiful she really is.
She reaches for her glass of water and manages to spill its entirety on Cam's lap. Her cheeks inflame and her previously intertwined hand finds its way to her mouth in shock.
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry! Cam! I'm such a clutz, it's not even funny anymore. Oh my gosh, let me go get you some napkins-"
"I love you, Maya Matlin." The words are out. Subconsciously, he reprimands himself for choosing now of all moments to finally say it. But he realizes that it's moments like this that make him love her that much more. Those moments that prove that she's different and quirky and her.
She steadies herself by gripping the table, trying to decide if what she heard was really said. Internally, she's screaming, laughing, smiling. She had been waiting so long to hear those words. So long to validate that what she was feeling was returned.
"I... love you, too, Campbell."
His graduation is only two weeks away but Maya's been distant. Those suppressed thoughts of self-harm come wafting back to him. He feels like he's losing her. And he can't lose her.
Everyday he stares at his now worn ice skate, daring himself to do it. To cut. Just once. But everyday, just before he reaches for it, he recalls his blonde love in his mind and pushes thoughts of harm aside.
The days move by painfully slow. He thinks of his future. He was already drafted into the NHL. His first practice is a month after graduation. He's not sure where the NHL will take him and that's the scary part: the uncertainty.
Graduation day finally arrives and as he looks out into the crowd, he realizes that the place he once dreaded has slowly become his home, a place he never wants to leave. A place that he is leaving.
Mr. Simpson reads off the graduating names while Cam's eyes find Maya's in the crowd. They contain sadness that he doesn't remember ever seeing there, but she manages to conjure up a small halfhearted smile. He feels as though he's been punched in the gut, racking his brain for reasons why she could be upset.
After the ceremony concludes, his scours the crowds of people for that familiar blond hair but to no avail.
The storm clouds overhead seem to reflect his mood as he drives home. Just before pulling into his driveway, he makes a U-turn and heads for her house, determined to find out what's wrong. Determined to make them work.
The rain is pouring by the time he pulls his truck into the Matlin's empty driveway. Soaked and shivering, he rings the doorbell prepared to stay there until she answers.
The door opens with a creak and she stands there, surprised by the figure in front of her.
"Cam, what are you-"
"Why have you been so distant, M? Why have you been shutting me out? Do you not love me anymore? Do you not want this to work? Please, just help me out here cause I am so confused."
He soon realizes that tears have started to mix with the raindrops and they are now both sliding down his face.
"Cam, I-I just... You're leaving! You're gonna to be in the NHL, you're gonna be famous, you're gonna travel, and you're gonna be gone. How are we going to work?"
Relief strikes him. She still loves him. She's just scared. He's scared, too. But he knows this can work. He knows that when two people love each other like they do, there's always a way.
Without even speaking a word, he grabs her face and kisses her with such force that she's pushed into a nearby wall as he tries to convey how much he loves her through a single action. She kisses him back, her hands finding their way into his hair. He kisses her until his lungs burn and even then he doesn't stop.
They find themselves in her bedroom where she's pushed back on her bed, her lips never leaving his.
Wet clothes lay strewn around the room, as they fall into each other taking their time, making sure they know how much they mean to each other.
Only after it's over, as they hold each other under her thin sheets, does Cam speak up.
"I love you so much, Maya Matlin. I love you more than anything. And I am going nowhere, I promise you. We will make this work. We have to. I can't live without you. You mean everything to me."
She places a sensual kiss on the tip of his nose before answering.
"I was just scared. But I believe in us, Cam. I love you. Just don't forget about me when you're a big shot hockey superstar, okay Cheesy?"
"Never."
Countless Skype sessions, thousands of cell phone minutes used, too many tickets for planes and buses and trains and anything that would get him back to Toronto. Anything that would get him back to her.
It hadn't been easy but they had made it work. And their love never faltered.
As he sits and watches her walk across the stage to receive her diploma, he plays with the box in his pocket. His nerves fight for control of his body but he pushes them away, knowing that this is right.
The crowds have made their way home, Maya's parents kiss her goodbye, and Katie congratulates her younger sister before leaving to head back to Stanford.
Cam and Maya are left alone at an empty Degrassi. He takes her hand in his as they walk the abandoned halls, Maya still adorned in her graduation cap. They stop at various places around the school, recalling memories and laughing at their younger, awkward selves realizing how little they've changed.
He pulls her out of the back doors to the now thriving garden. She stops to smell a lily growing out of a small patch of dirt and he takes the opportunity to admire her beauty, to prepare himself for what he's about to ask.
When she looks up from the flower, Cam is on one knee staring back at her.
Her heat begins to flutter and her brain searches for something, anything to say but comes up with nothing.
"M, I love you. I have loved you for much longer than you probably think. Our photo booth date, you nibbling my eye, your clovers, I wouldn't trade any of those moments for anything in the world. They all seemed so embarrassing back then but looking back, I think those are the moments I started to fall for you. Now, I don't want you to get intimidated by this question. We can take our time with this. I want to finish my NHL career but even more, I want you to do everything you want with your music. That's important to me, I never want to hold you back. We can have a long engagement or we can go elope in Vegas this afternoon... I guess I'm trying to say that we can do this your way. Whatever you want... Maya Matlin, will you marry me?"
The box is opened and he barely has time to anticipate her answer before she's pulling him off the ground and jumping into his arms.
She emits quick, breathless 'yes' answers and he places the ring on her finger. And he can see it. He can see how happy their lives will be together.
Back in his 15-year old body, Cam can still see how happy they would have been together. The events of what could have been play out in his mind and regret settles in.
The star charm he bought her still sits in his nightstand drawer, untouched. His confessions of love resonate within his chest, words that Maya will never hear him speak. Visions of him proposing, her accepting, their life together, all flow through his mind, dreams that will never be realized.
As he stares at his sleeping beauty, tissues scattered across her bed, eyes still puffy from crying herself to sleep, Hoot clutched tightly between her hands, he feels a pang of remorse so powerful he'd be worried that it could kill him if he weren't already dead.
He sees the mess he left behind, he sees how he's crippled her and he hates himself for it.
He tenderly attempts to wipe away the stained tears on her face, tears that never would have existed had he just held on, had he just fought a little more, had he just let her help him. He sees now that she could have helped him. That she would have helped him.
"I'm sorry, Maya. I love you." He finds his nightly place by her window and settles down to watch her slumber, visions of what could have been forever tormenting him.