Cammie Morgan
He always gave me that . . . look. I could never really describe it, other than to say it gave me chills throughout my body. You know, the one when your mom or dad are looking at you because you did something bad, and they know about it, but you don't know they know. It pins you out from the rest of the world, putting you on the spotlight for a moment of time, not one word being spoken, but you know they have something on their mind and it has to do specifically with you. I got that look just about everyday.
His name is Zachary. No one really knows his last name. Even the teachers aren't too sure if what's in the system is right. Rumor says he was abandoned by his biological parents at four years old; found on the streets and taken into an adoption center and adopted by Crazy Old Man Hubert. I don't believe it though. Old Man Hubert lives in a nursing home- had been for years. They only time anyone saw the grey crazy-eyed loon was when he was aloud outside for a walk and fresh air- escorted by a nurse of course. He also hated children and people in general, so adopting a kid wouldn't have made sense.
The strange thing about Zachary, is that he's quiet. Not shy, just quiet. At school, he gets into fights daily. A word is never uttered from his lips. He just randomly walks up to an unsuspecting guy and beats the living crap out of him. No one really knows why, and no one really has the guts to ask. I would love to be one of those people. The ones who don't dare get in his way and strive to be out of his sight as much as possible. I guess, in a way, I am one, because I at least try to stay clear off his path. But somehow, he still manages to be around me, to see me, and I hate it.
"He's staring again." My best friend, Macey, whispered in my ear as she spread frosting on a cupcake for a customer. I glanced up from the coffee I was stirring for Mrs. Soul but kept my head down. The green colored visor of my hat blocked off most of my view from the angle my head was in, but I could still see the same lazy posture, the same black clothing, and the same cup of rich black coffee resting on the table as if it were a photo set out in the same exact spot for me to see every day. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was staring. The heater in the shop seemed to shut off, creating a chill to run down my spine, before coming back on.
I looked away from Zachary and lightly tapped the spoon on the edge of the paper cup before putting a plastic black top on and handing the hot coffee to the sweet old lady in front of me.
"Here you go Miss." I gave her a sweet smile and told her the change. "Have a nice day. Tell Bubby I said hi." The old woman gave a light chuckle.
"I sure will. He misses you." The bell rang as she walked out of the shop and into the snowy weather. The chill from the outside flew in, sending a few chills to the customers that chose to sit by the door.
Bubby was Mrs. Souls husband. His real name was Johnathan, but he insisted on being called 'Bubby'. He died last year due to a heart attack, but Mrs. Soul always seemed to forget that. I guess she wasn't quite done grieving yet, so I just played along and pretended he was still with us.
When she left, I took the chance to take another quick glance towards Zachary. Sure enough, he was still there. Still staring. And doing nothing else but.
Zachary is an extremely attractive boy. No body could deny that. He had that messy tousled brown hair look that screamed 'too cool to care'. The dark locks would have just reached his thick bushy eyebrows if wasn't styled upward. It was a feature that most girls dreamed about running their hands through. His body was also eye catching. Under just about every shirt he wore, you could tell he had a six pack along with large biceps and a toned jaw line sharp enough to cut through metal. White teeth sat in his mouth, biting on his soft pink lips when in concentration. But what had me most captivated, were his eyes. A bright forest green that could possibly glow in the dark, surrounded by a forest of long eyelashes that had even made me jealous at times.
I couldn't help but get lost in his green orbs. It rarely happened, but at times, when I were to look at him to see if he was still staring at me, I would get caught in an ocean of green, drowning to the point where no one but myself could save me. It was moments like those where I didn't care that he was looking at me. I would get those butterflies in my stomach as I thought about those beautiful eyes being directed at me. It made me feel special, but only for a blissful second before I would come back to my much helpful senses.
"Cam, why don't you go on break." Macey offered. I quickly tore my eyes from his and looked towards my friend who was holding a small apple pie for a child waiting excitedly with his mother. I nodded, grateful for the distraction, and took off my apron as Josh, the newbie, took my spot.
Sometimes, I would wonder why he chose me. I would think about my talents and unflawed aspects I somehow held. Nothing much would come up, but what did made me seem unimportant and normal. So why would Zachary choose me, of all people, too stalk on a daily basis?
...
Break was always my favorite part of work. I guess that would go along with everyone else that had to suffer hours working rather than doing what they please (which most likely resulted in eating Lays potato chips while watching re-runs of forgotten TV shows). Sure, the customers were always nice and great to talk to, but after a good four hours of standing on my feet surrounded by sugary pastries and coffee, it was good to get away from it all.
I made myself a cup of coffee loaded with cream and sugar, and made my way to an empty table by the small library we had. It was on the right side of the door coming in, just in the perfect position to not get blasted with the cold air during the winter. When I first started working here, I added in a few neutral colored throw pillows and soft blankets so it was always comfortable for me and other customers to sit at.
My favorite book to read while I was off my shift was Target by Jordan Taylor. I could read it over an over again, and I did. The story was about a seventeen year old girl, Sam, who went on a fishing vacation with her father. A storm hit on their last day and she ended up getting washed up onto a small beach that led into a forest. There, she searched for help to find her father, but ended up getting caught in the middle of a game between two men. It turned out, she was their target. It wasn't until she met up with one of the gamers' son, Ethan, that she understood the price she's paying for being a piece in their game.
Although it was my favorite book to read, a little boy had ripped out and colored on the second half of it a while, and I was never able to find another copy. I'd sometimes spend my nights in my bed, making up my own version of the ending but never stayed awake enough to finish it. So far, in my mind, Ethan and Sam ran to find civilization, and ended up getting captured by one of the men.
"Cammie." I was just about to reach chapter two when the voice pulled me back to real life. I looked up to see Josh standing over me, a small smile on his face. I gave him one as well and closed the book.
"Hey, Josh. How's the job working out so far?" One of the things I liked about Josh was that he was nice and respectful. Not too many guys are like that nowadays. He also has a toned body and shaggy blonde hair covered by a beanie which makes extremely cute, in my eyes anyway. He's basically the opposite of Zachary.
"Great. You mind if I sit?" I did everything I could to hold a blush back. I never really got much attention at school, and having an eighteen year old boy that was way to good looking to be real asking to sit and talk with me really caught me off guard.
"S-sure." I moved over on the couch I was sitting on, allowing him a seat as he most likely laughed at my stuttering in his head. For a few minutes, we silently sipped our coffee. It wasn't awkward, in fact, it was pretty nice.
"So, what does a girl like you do when you're not working at a coffee shop with big-mouthed children and cranky old men?" He asked me. I looked up from my cup, holding in a giggle as I recalled that moment when an old man accused Josh for charging too much for a doughnut. Highway robbery was a term I had never really heard of before. That man gave me many different definitions that day.
"School, studying, T.V., and dance on the weekends." I didn't dance. Well, I used to, but now I help out the Pre-K and Kindergarteners. The little Buds. They are probably the cutest things ever.
"Cool. My older sister used to dance. She was in a car accident though, and now she's in a wheel chair." Oh.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Is that what you said in a situation like that? Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, or perhaps I could have just patted him on the shoulder? My inside debate ended when I heard a light chuckle.
"It's fine," that lopsided grin is now my favorite feature of his, "How were you supposed to know?" I shrugged my shoulders as I stood up from the couch.
"Good point."
...
"I swear, Cammie. He was staring at you like you were the only thing on this planet! " Macey decided on having a study night at her house. The topic: Boys. If there was a class totally focused on boys, Macey would have a 100% average. Their looks, how their style reflects their personality, what their behavior is in certain situations, she knows it all.
It was an hour after work. We were sitting on her overly expensive bed watching The Mentalist while stuffing our faces with popcorn- overly buttered but only a pinch of salt.
"So?" Okay, I'll admit, my stomach did decide to do a little haply dance whence heard what she said.
"So?!" My eyes widened and immediately, my head whipped to gave her with a finger over my lips.
"Are you stupid?!" I yelled in a whisper. "Your parents are sleeping!" Macey only rolled her eyes with a flick of her pin straight black hair.
"You know, I would give anything to have that boy stare at me." She smirked and nudged me with her elbow. "You gonna ask him out?"
Josh Abrams moved from some place in New York to here in Virginia last year. I remember seeing him in the halls every now and then, but we didn't ever really talk. When he got a job at Minni's Café, we slowly became closer. I just thought we were friends though Macey believes he has different feelings.
"Don't you think him looking at me like I was the last piece of cake a little strange?" I asked. Patrick Jane was openly looking around a murder victim's house, making his signature cup of tea as if he owned the place. That's what aggravated me about him. He would do anything he wanted when it came to Red John cases. No one's feelings mattered but his. It would make things so much more simple if he would ask for permission in order to look at people's things. No drama, no mess. "Like Zachary. He always stares at me, and you even agree it's creepy. He's not bad looking, so why is he different?
"Because Zachary follows you. Like, a freak or whatever, ya know?" Macey shoved another handful of popcorn in her mouth before continuing, "Like at school, someone changed most of his classes to the same ones as yours. That someone is most likely him. And his freaky eyes," Macey gave a dramatic shutter. I chuckled and threw a pillow at her, "They don't even look human. Like, a snake's or alien's." Lisbon caught Patrick lurking around the victim's mother's house and began scolding him while I thought about Zachary's eyes that I often felt attracted to and his overall personality.
''He never talks. At least not to me. All he does is stare. Like I'm the only thing on this planet besides him." Macey paused to movie and looked over at me, "It's not only creepy, but also intriguing. Some days, ya know, I have half a mind to go up to him and ask if he needs something, while other days I want to run to the nearest police station just to hide."
I ran my right hand through my hair, distracting myself momentarily with the feel of its softness.
Macey bit her lip in thought while we stared at Patrick's smirking face on the T.V screen.
"Well, he hasn't really done anything for you to go to the police for. Until he... does something, you just have to work on avoiding him." Sometimes avoiding him isn't enough, I thought, because he still manages to invade my mind.
"Maybe Josh can help protect you." I glared at Macey, her lips turned up in a sly smirk.
"You know what I think about when it comes to you?" I didn't give her time to answer, "A snake hiding in a patch of tall grass, waiting to find two unsuspecting and innocent prey walk by so you can inject them with whatever love venom you think you have." Macey only laughed.
"Admit it, Sweetheart. You two would make a very adorable couple. ...And babies." She laughed as I ran after her, throwing whatever is could as hard as possible at her head.
Something was definitely up with Zachary. Something strange. I just didn't know how to find out.
...
School is possibly the worst place any teen girl could be. The hallways are constantly filled with horny savage boys that like to prey on innocent girls. Then the tramps, they're like lions; every single boy is their target, and no one is allowed to take it away from them. They, along with the horny boys, rule the school like no other. Every one practically bows at their feet in hopes to be lifted higher up the social hierarchy. It's sad really, having to see such innocent victims get sucked into a life that isn't worth all the fuss. Macey and I learned from a very young age that being around the jocks and snobs can only rotten you brain cells and because we actually like the idea of graduating and going far in life, we thought it was best to keep a good one-hundred feet away from anything with orange skin, big egos, or dead bleached hair.
"Maybe it's the cheep perfume." Macey whispered to me as we watched McKenzie Flatly at giggle rather loudly and high pitched. "Perhaps it makes them high, they just don't realize it. You never know what type of stuff companies actually put in perfume. Maybe they're like, some type of drug dealer places that say 'hey, why not put this stuff in perfume and send it to Dollar General!'" I covered my mouth in attempt to hide my giggle, yet it still managed to slither through my fingers. Just as the noise escaped my mouth, Zachary walked by. Normally, I wouldn't pay attention because I would be too afraid to see his eyes on me, but for whatever reason, I looked up.
I don't think I have ever seen him smile. Not ever. And sure, he wasn't necessarily smiling, but the right corner of his mouth was tilted up in a smirk which is close enough. I couldn't help but think about what a good look it was for him to actually smile instead of scowl.
The moment our eyes met, I looked away, a blush slowly rising up my neck and to my cheeks.
A blush.
I, Cammie Morgan, blushed. And it was because of Zachary what's-his-name.
Maybe I'm slowly going insane. That was the most reasonable explanation for my reaction.
"You OK there chica?" Macey sucked at Spanish. She really had no skill at learning another language, especially Spanish. Our language teacher, who is Hispanic might I add, threatened to give Macey detention if she didn't pronounce 'cómo se llama' correctly. Needless to say, Mrs. Lopez- what a typical last name- ended up dropping Macey from her class because she made a habit of failing all of her tests with solid 40s and continually pronounced 'llama' as 'lama'. For whatever reason, Mace still uses 6th grade Spanish vocab whenever she can.
I only nodded my head as I opened my locker. I may or may not have secretly hoped the hollow piece of metal would turn into a black whole and suck me in to take me to a different dimension. One that doesn't involve weird boys that make me unintentionally blush.
...
This will be my only A/N.
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