Disclaimer: Someday…someday…

Chapter 25

Cam and I walked down the busy Happy Harbor sidewalk, staying close to avoid being separated by groups of shrieking children or older-than-God power walkers. The sun poked its head from behind a flock of fluffy white clouds, the first indication that spring would actually happen. Flipping my hair, still damp from the shower I took after training, I looked up at Cam. "So what are we doing?"

"We can go to lunch," he offered. "My treat. Dinah's letting me do odd jobs, you know, cleaning and stuff around her place."

"Letting you?"

Shrugging, he explained, "Well, she said she didn't mind giving me money when I needed it, but I don't wanna just take it, you know?"

I couldn't help but smile at that because it was such a Cam thing to say. "I have money, too. You don't have to pay for me."

"I don't mind."

"We're splitting it, fifty-fifty. Deal?"

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Okay, okay. Sheesh."

I placed my foot in front of his, enough to slip up his step and cause him to almost fall off the curb. "So where is there a place to eat?"

Rectifying himself, he said, "Megan mentioned this place she and her…squad…I think it's a squad…anyway, they go there after games and competitions. Which I thought was odd, since cheerleaders aren't supposed to eat."

"Cam!"

"What? You were thinking the same thing and you know it. Besides, they're gonna become trophy wives anyway, so they might as well earn it."

"Cam!"

"I'm just kidding," he insisted, raising his hands innocently. "I'm sure they're all A-plus students who spend their time feeding the homeless and rescuing animals from fires."

"Your sincerity is overwhelming."

"Why, thank you."

"So where exactly is this place?"

"Not sure, really. I think I have a general idea."

Turns out that his "general idea" wasn't even remotely close to the restaurant. One hour and three reluctant requests for directions later, we were finally seated and scanning the menu.

"How's school?" Cam asked.

"Not bad. AP Euro final yesterday—ninety-five percent."

He grinned. "Impressive."

"The World War II section was a little sketchy, but I got through it. How are your studies?"

Shrugging, he replied, "Not really sure. I keep reading stuff and testing myself, but I don't know how much I actually retain."

"No one ever retains stuff from school. You learn it for the test, then forget it. You're completely on track."

"Maybe," he murmured, doubt clinging to the word.

"You are doing just fine," I said quietly. "Don't put so much pressure on yourself."

"Yes ma'am," he mocked, jamming the straw on the table to get the wrapper off. He dipped the straw into his water, then let a single drop land on the rumpled paper.

"What are you doing?"

"The worm," he stated, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "C'mon, don't tell me you've never done this before."

I watched the wrapper stretch and move from the liquid, remembering Jade and I doing the same thing years before. "Cam, little kids do this. How old are you?"

"Dis many." Holding up four fingers on his left hand, he continued making the paper dance. All I could do was laugh.

"Do it, Artemis."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"I'm fifteen."

"So? I'm seventeen. Do I look like I really care?"

After a moment, and against my better judgment, I followed suit. Of course, that was when the waitress, who had to be around Cam's age, came back.

"Do you guys know what you want to order?"

"Cheeseburger, please," Cam offered, handing her the menu and hiding the drenched wrapper all in the same movement.

I just sat there, my straw full of water hanging over the stupid straw covering, completely unsure of what I wanted. The girl stood patiently, as though she was use to people like me, while Cam could barely hide his snickers.

"Egg salad sandwich, please," I finally managed, handing over the menu.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Cam cracked up. Kicking him under the table, I objected, "It's not funny! I looked like a total idiot!"

"Oh, calm yourself, Rapunzel. You're fine."

"Don't tell me to calm down, Frost Bite."

"Seriously, Artemis. You need to smile." Grabbing the lemon off his glass, he shoved it in his mouth, giving him a golden smirk.

"Oh my God, I can't take you anywhere," I said through giggles.

"You know you love me," he insisted, speaking around the lemon. Spitting it into the cup, he leaned back in his seat and asked, "So how's everything?"

"Okay," I replied. "Wally and I had couple's therapy Thursday."

"That's awkward."

"It wasn't."

He raised an eyebrow. "You two having a big heart-to-heart in front of Dinah wasn't awkward?"

"Okay, it was awkward, but we worked through it. How'd your session go?"

"Fine."

"Really, Cam? All I get from you is fine?"

"She asked about my mom," he mumbled, eyes suddenly downcast.

I didn't press for details; from his demeanor, I knew that I just didn't want to know.

"Forget about it," I instructed gently. "It's not even worth your time to think about her."

He took that advice to heart and immediately changed the course of conversation: "Our waitress is pretty hot, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm a girl, Cam."

"And? Girls can comment about other girls. It's guys who can't comment about other guys."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. Just how it is. So what do you think?"

"She's attractive," I admitted.

"Attractive?" Cam repeated. "That's the best word choice you could come up with?"

"I don't like the word pretty," I murmured.

Realization crossed his face. "Right. Sorry."

"Whatever." Waving my hand dismissively, I proceeded, "So what? You want to ask her out?"

"I don't know. I have no cell phone so I can't give her my number; I don't have an e-mail—and even if I did, that's so lame. And my address is basically confidential, so that would go nowhere." He placed his hand under his chin. "Besides, relationships seem like so much…work. I just like appreciating the beauty that surrounds me."

"You are such a man."

"My masculinity is quite unmistakable."

"Except that you're a toothpick."

"Am not!"

"Cam, you have virtually no meat on you."

"I have a six-pack!"

"Okay, well, that's great if you went walking around shirtless. Since that's not really an option, girls have a tendency to focus on your biceps, which, no offense, aren't really there."

"Hey!"

"I'm just saying. Better to hear it from me than from someone else."

"So what you're saying is that I need to take my shirt off."

"Okay, there is no way anything along those lines came out of my mouth."

"That's what I heard." Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, he continued, "Dare me?"

"We are in public."

"I'm sure that means something to most people, but not to me."

"Alright, fine. Go ahead. Take your shirt off. Hell, why not just do a striptease act?"

The words were already out of my mouth when I realized the waitress was standing there with our order.

"Here you go," she said quickly, placing the food in front of us. "Enjoy."

Covering my face with my hand, I sank in my seat as Cam had another laughing fit at my expense. "Not funny!"

"Hilarious," he insisted after he'd gotten control of himself. "Pure comedic gold."

"I hate you," I muttered, picking up my sandwich and taking an angry bite. Half of the inside squeezed out of the bread and landed on the plate. Without thinking, I picked it up with my hand and shoved it into my mouth.

"Wow. That's attractive."

"Shut up," I grumbled. A piece of egg went sliding down my chin.

"Do you eat like this all the time?" Cam questioned, taking an overly-dainty bite of the burger. "It's not very becoming of a lady."

"I'm going to punch you in the face."

"Why not just kick me again? The bruise isn't big enough yet."

I did as suggested, earning a yip. Satisfied, I continued devouring my lunch.

"You know, I kinda need my legs to walk," he complained, leaning down to rub it. "Could you please refrain from abusing me?"

"But then where would the fun be in that?" I asked.

"You know, you have a little something," he told me, gesturing to my face.

I wiped myself quickly. "Got it?"

"No. Your left. Wait, no, my left. No, up a bit. Okay, too much. Wait, why are you going over? I told you it's on your right."

I spent at least another minute frantically trying to find the mess when I slammed my hand on the table. "There's nothing on my face, is there?"

"Nope."

"You're an evil, evil person, you know that?"

"DNA's a powerful thing."

"I'm disowning you as a friend."

"Of course you are."

"Really, I am."

"Cuts me deep. Real deep."

I forced the rest of the sandwich into my mouth, glowering at him. He did the same with his burger, cheeks bulging out like a chipmunk. Covering my mouth with my hands, it took so much effort to keep myself from laughing.

When our waitress came back with the check, she said, "You guys are one of the cutest couples I've ever seen. How long have you been dating?"

"Oh, we're not boyfriend and girlfriend," I explained, taking the last sip of my water.

"Yeah. That's way too serious. We're more like friends with benefits."

The water went flying out of my mouth, splashing all over the table as I started chocking. Cam, unfazed, simply smiled at the waitress, staring at us like she couldn't be sure if this was a joke or not. She gave up deciphering and walked away.

"Cam!" I kicked him again, a lot harder than before. "I can't believe you just said that!"

"Really?" He calmly inspected the check and placed down five-fifty.

Throwing down my money, I ranted, "She must think we're—"

"Sex maniacs?"

"Cam!"

"C'mon, she knew it was a joke," he insisted, but he still left a ten-dollar bill as a tip.

"I am going to kill you," I growled once we were outside, far away from anyone who could hear us.

"You'll have to catch me first," he mocked, taking off.

"Really?" I demanded, chasing him. God, I forgot how fast he was.

We made enemies with probably everyone that day, two teenagers playing tag on a crowded sidewalk. Cam didn't seem to mind, though, and his enthusiasm rubbed off on me, enough so that each dirty look or grumble about "Teenagers these days" meant nothing.

At an intersection, Cam stopped dead, causing me to slam into his back. "Look!"

I followed his pointing finger. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes." He resumed his sprint, cutting across the open area.

"We can't!" I protested.

"Can too!"

"Cannot! We're too old!"

"I'm as old as I want to be and I want to be twelve!"

"CAM!"

We were already at the destination, and he'd already belly-flopped onto one of the playground's swings.

"You are unbelievable."

"Thank you." Stopping himself with his hands, he flopped onto the woodchips. "Swings are the best!"

"This playground is for children."

"Hey, I'm young enough for juvie," he reminded me, taking a correct position on the equipment. "So that means I'm young enough for this."

"You're logic confuses me."

"You know you want to," he drawled, kicking off the ground.

Glancing to make sure no one was there, I claimed the swing next to him. Soon, we were both swinging through the air, challenging the other to go higher, faster. I felt like a little kid again. And it felt good.