We didn't talk about the missing camera until my new one arrived a week later. I was doing a sort of accomplishment dance through every room in the house until I wound up in Phil's bedroom, where I found him internetting in silence until I came through the door. He pulled his ear buds out in favor of what I had to say, but I figured he would regret it.
"I got my camera, don't have to borrow one," I sort of sang, horribly off key and rhythm but not caring as I waved the box around. "Now I can decide when I'm gonna put off recording, and you have no say in it." I was only teasing, and he understood that as always. Sometimes I'd say things that are rude or uncalled for, but that's just how I interact with people –and Phil's one of the only people I really interact with.
"I'm glad you're gonna be twenty-three in a few months and you successfully ordered a camera off Amazon," he smiled, setting his laptop aside and reaching for the drawer next to his bed.
I plopped down on the mattress. "What're you doing?" I asked absently, watching him dig around, apparently searching for something.
"Looking for my own camera –we can compare, see whose is better." He couldn't seem to find it –shame, mine was now better by default. He looked deep in concentration for a moment, trying to remember where he'd last had it. A look of realization dawned. "I leant it to you, didn't I?"
I blanched. Fuck, I'd somehow forgotten about his brand new camera that had decided to go all kamikaze Spiderman on me. I stuttered out the most convincing lie I could think of. "N-No, I gave it back to you, remember?"
He frowned and shook his head. "I don't remember that. All I remember getting back was the memory card to help you with your video. Dan, where's my camera?"
I didn't answer, just stared at him with wide, nervous eyes. When he moved to get up off the bed, I hopped up to stand between him and the door. He could've gone around me, but I had already made it all too obvious that I was guilty of something. "Don't you wanna check out mine…?"
"Yes, I'd love to, as soon as you tell me where mine is." He tried to move around me, but I blocked his way again. He glared hard and I felt very small. "Dan, where did you put it?"
I sighed shakily, no choice but to admit defeat. I ran my hand over my reddened face and mumbled an answer. "In the drawer next to my bed…"
He stepped around me to get to my room; I didn't bother getting in the way now, just followed quietly behind. "I'm sorry," I said before he could've even seen it. I got to my doorway and watched as he examined the battered camera body, trying to turn it on only to find it wouldn't do so. I went to hide away in the lounge.
He said he wasn't angry, but that had to be a lie in some regard because he wasn't speaking to me.
In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have justified trying to keep it a secret by bringing up how long it took him to tell me about losing my Mario Kart game. He'd numbly replied that we were even, then, but neither of us believed that. I should've just told him, he's my boyfriend for fuck's sake. And he knows what a klutz I am so the true story behind this isn't even unbelievable. It wasn't breaking that camera that had upset it: it was the fact that I tried to hide it.
I looked at my own new camera, still in the box. I couldn't bring myself to get it out; I felt sick just looking at it where it sat on the desk, still in the packaging.
Phil was still hidden away in his bedroom like he had been all evening, not wanting to talk and keeping his door closed, which wasn't a good sign. He was really upset with me and had every right to be. But this new camera that had arrived could be a truce, a peace offering.
I picked it up and headed to his room, knocking on the door, ready to be turned away. "Phil?"
"Come in."
I opened it up and looked at him, finding him in the same position as I had earlier. He didn't look upset, but he didn't smile either. I missed that smile already. I moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed, box in my lap before I set it in front of him. "I'll order myself a new one," I said quietly, smiling and hoping he would, too.
He returned the small smile and leaned forward, reaching to turn my head and kissing me sweetly. "You don't have to do that. I just wanted an apology, but this is enough for me. I love you."
I smiled and kissed him again, stroking his cheek. I didn't say it back this time: I didn't need to.
When we managed to pull away from each other, Phil seemed a bit uneasy. "I'm sorry I probably overreacted… I didn't mean to get so upset with you, I-I know it was an accident. I… I should probably stop keeping secrets, too…"
I was about to ask him what he meant, what was wrong, when he got up off the bed, slowly, almost reluctantly moving to his wardrobe and digging around inside. I watched curiously.
When he stood back up he was holding something. He sat back down next to me, and didn't look at me as he handed me the object, burying his face in his hands. I looked down to what had been placed in my lap: a plastic container with seven columns, divided in two with letters marking days of the week at the top, and twelve rows. Inside the boxes were tablets of different shapes and sizes and colors.
I winced at first; I'd known he was medicated for years now, but I had only ever stumbled upon one bottle. How many prescriptions could all these be coming from?
I had to suppress a smile, though. This was a big deal, and he finally felt comfortable enough to let me know. I didn't doubt that he trusted me before, but this wasn't something that was easy to admit.
I looked back at him, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently coaxing his face out of his hands. He wasn't crying, but visibly upset and looked almost like he wanted to. I didn't ask any questions, and he didn't say anything. I set the container aside and pulled him in close, holding his head against my shoulder and letting him feel comforted. He was always being strong for me; for once I could return the favor.
