"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Your medication?"

"Yes."

"Toothbrush?"

"Yes."

"Fresh underwear?"

"Mom!"

Joanna Mitchell smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I'm just not used to you staying over at someone else's house."

"Yeah, because this is a totally uncharacteristic behavior for teenagers," Logan muttered. He stared through the windshield, recognized Camille's house, but remained in the car.

"Nervous?"

He sighs. "I know I shouldn't be."

"If you don't feel well, you can always call home."

"Yes, I know."

"And don't forget that you promised to reach out. By tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Yes, Mom. Don't worry, I won't forget."

"Then you should go now. I'm sure she's already waiting for you."

Logan felt a nervous anticipation at her words. He nodded, grabbed his backpack and got out.

"See you on Sunday."

"Okay," Logan replied, taking a few steps back and slowly waving after his mother's car. Now there was no turning back. Not that he actually wanted to go back, but still . . .

Slowly, he walked down the street to the front door. The nervous knot in his stomach tightened even more. He stared at the door, unable to move. Then he imagined what Kendall would say if he could see him now, and that thought gave him courage. He took a deep breath, raised his hand to ring the bell . . . and the door almost hit him in the face. Logan jumped in shock and so did Camille, who looked at him in surprise.

"Logan! You are here! I just heard a car and - come in." She literally dragged him into the house. Inside, she beamed at him. "Hi," she said, pulling him into a warm hug.

"Hi," Logan replied quietly, carefully placing a hand on her back. Camille pulled away and one part of him was relieved that she did, the other part was disappointed.

"I'm so happy it worked out."

Logan nodded in agreement, forcing a small smile.

"So, um, what do you feel like to do? Are you hungry, thirsty?"

Logan shook his head. "No, thanks. Maybe later."

"Okay . . . um, how about we watch a movie?"

"Um, yeah, sure. Sounds good."

The movie had been playing for a while, but Logan wasn't paying much attention to the plot. He couldn't. His thoughts were running around in his head, not letting him calm down. And then there was Camille's closeness, which made him even more nervous. She was so close, it would be so easy to touch her . . . but he didn't dare and hated himself for it. There was nothing wrong with it. After all, she was his girlfriend and he was her boyfriend, it was a normal thing to do. And yet he sat tensely next to her, hoping that she wouldn't notice. Why was he so scared? Why couldn't he have more confidence? The knot in his stomach continued to tighten, causing him to shift uncomfortably in his seat, which of course Camille noticed. She turned to him. "You okay?" she asked worriedly. "Are you feeling cold? I can give you a blanket."

"No," Logan began, then he hesitated. An idea came to his mind. Yes, that could work. "Yes," he quickly changed his answer. "Yes, a blanket would be nice."

"Coming right up," she said with a smile and stood up. She went to a stool where several blankets lay on top of it, grabbed one of them, and returned to the couch. "Here," she said, wrapping the blanket around him.

"Thank you," he said politely and waited eagerly. If he was lucky, she would . . . His plan worked. As soon as Camille sat down again, she moved closer to him, now they were both wrapped up in the blanket. Logan hesitated for a moment, then he put his arm around her. His heart was pounding violently in his chest. Camille snuggled up to him. And Logan smiled.

After his nervousness subsided a little, Logan found it easier to relax. They talked about the movie, laughed, ate and drank some of the snacks Camille had prepared earlier. But this ease that was gradually emerging in Logan wouldn't last long. He suspected it all along, and at some point, when the evening was almost ready for the night, he couldn't hold back the question any longer. "Camille?"

"Yes?"

"Um, just out of curiosity . . . how did you imagine the . . . the sleeping arrangement?" He was kind of proud that he wasn't blushing at this question.

"Oh, well . . ."

Was he wrong, or did he hear a hint of nervousness in her voice as well?

"I think there are only two options. You can sleep with me in my room-"

And there was the blush on his face.

"Or you can take the guest room."

Logan didn't want to disappoint her, but . . . cuddling on the couch was one thing, but sharing a bed all night long was totally different. This idea caused his heart to go crazy, he was close to a heart attack. "Um, yeah, maybe . . . maybe the guest bedroom isn't such a bad idea," he murmured, looking down, not wanting to see her disappointment . . . or even worse, her relief.

Later, Logan woke up in darkness. His gut told him that he hadn't slept long. He rolled onto his back and stared at the dark ceiling. He felt lonely, and this dark and unfamiliar room didn't make it any better. For a moment he thought about how it would be if Camille were here. Would that make him feel better? Probably. But should he really go up to her room? Just imagining it made him sweat. She had told him that he could come over, but maybe she just wanted to be polite. But if not . . .

He was standing in the hallway in front of her bedroom door. Everything was quiet. Should he knock? But if he woke her up, would she be mad at him? His stomach cramped and he felt nauseous. Maybe that wasn't a good idea, he should leave. A noise from her room stopped him in his tracks. Was Camille awake? Gently, he knocked on her door, whispering her name, "Camille?"

No reaction. He shook his head, turned away, and went back to the stairs.

"Logan?"

He stopped and turned around, his heart was pounding. Camille stood in the hallway and looked at him.

"Yes?"

"Are you . . .? I mean, is everything okay? Do you need anything?"

"Um, well, I thought . . . it's a bit scary to sleep alone in an unfamiliar room. Um, not that your guest room isn't nice, no, it's actually a very nice room, but-"

"Logan?"

"Yes?"

A smile appeared on her face. "Would you like to sleep in my room?"

He couldn't help himself and smiled back, nodding. "Yes."

"So? How does it feel?" Camille asked after Logan lay down next to her.

"Amazing," he murmured, and she smiled. Her bedside lamp was on, so the room was lit in a cozy orange tone.

"You have a lot of movie posters on your walls."

"Books are important to you, and movies are important to me. My biggest dream is to become an actress. I don't need to be famous or anything, I just want to do what I love."

Logan was silent for a moment. "I think you'd be successful."

"Really?"

"Yes. I think it would be very easy for you to embrace various characters, and to learn how they think and feel."

"Thank you for telling me that. That means a lot to me."

"My pleasure."

Smiling, she ran her hand down his arm, then up to his shoulder, until it finally rested on his chest. She frowned. "My goodness . . . your heart . . ."

"What about it?"

"It's beating like crazy."

Logan blushed, he felt ashamed. "Well, yeah. I guess I'm a little nervous."

"Why?" she asked quietly, running her hand over his chest.

"I have no idea."

She smiled. "Would you like to know a secret?"

"What secret?"

"I'm a little nervous myself."

"And, um, what . . . what are we gonna do about it?"

She kissed him . . .

Then she looked into his astonished face. "What? Too bold?"

"No," Logan answered, grinning. "No, not at all."

Camille laughed, and she kissed him again . . .