When Logan woke up, he felt safe and sound, even somewhat relaxed, unlike any other morning. No wonder, because Camille's bed was a lot more comfortable than his own. He slowly sat up. Camille was nowhere to be seen, so he had the opportunity to take a good look around her room. He didn't want to spy or snoop around secretly, no, he just wanted to know what impressions her room gave him. He liked that Camille seemed to be a little unorganized. His own room was always clinically clean, you wouldn't believe anyone even lived in that room. With Camille it was completely different. Smiling, Logan looked at her desk, which was full of school books, papers, notes, and pencils. Everything was in disarray, he couldn't see any system behind this arrangement. Then noises from downstairs caused him to pull himself away from the sight of her room and step out into the hallway.
While he was still on the stairs, he heard cheerful music coming from a radio and at the same time a delicious smell hit his nose. In the kitchen he finally spotted Camille, who was apparently so absorbed in her current activity that she didn't even notice him. Logan got a little closer. "Good morning."
When he spoke to her, she flinched and turned around quickly. But shortly afterwards, a smile appeared on her face. "Morning," she replied, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Logan liked that.
"I didn't want to wake you up, so I let you sleep. I thought I'd better use the time to make breakfast."
"I can smell that," Logan said, smiling. "What are we having?"
"I decided to make my special pancakes."
"Special pancakes?"
But Camille just smiled mysteriously. "Just sit down."
Logan nodded and took a seat at the dining table, which was already set for two people, including water and orange juice. Logan's gaze went back to Camille. And once again, it became clear that Camille didn't think much of structured work. The ingredients and kitchen utensils that she used to make breakfast were lying or standing around in a haphazard manner. He had to smile again.
"What's so funny?"
He was a little startled when her voice was suddenly so close to him. He looked up and saw her standing next to him, a plate of pancakes in her hands. He shook his head. "Oh, nothing. I'm just in a good mood."
Camille smiled, put a pancake on his plate and sat down too. "Well, then you should definitely try one of these, because then you'll be in a really good mood."
Logan raised his eyebrows. "Someone seems to be very confident in themselves."
She didn't say anything, just made a sign that meant he should try it. So he picked up knife and fork and began to cut off a piece of the pancake. "Strawberries?"
Suddenly, she looked frightened. "You're not allergic, are you?"
Logan shook his head. "No."
She smiled. "Yes, then it's strawberries."
He laughed softly. "And what if I were actually allergic to it?"
"Then it would still be strawberries, but I would feel bad."
"Well, we can't let that happen, can we?" he said, smiling, and putting the piece of pancake in his mouth. "Oh my gosh, this is amazing."
"I know," Camille said triumphantly, winking at him. Logan swallowed, then said, "But you know, I also would have been happy with some toast and juice."
"I'll remember," she said with a laugh and started eating too.
After breakfast, Camille was washing the dishes while Logan went into the guest room to get his backpack. He opened a small compartment and pulled out his medication. With that he sat back down at the table and prepared the right dose. But just before he took it, he hesitated and looked up questioningly. Camille had turned to him and was watching him with a strange look.
"Something wrong?"
She shook her head. "No, just . . . I know you have to take medication, but I've never actually seen it. It kind of makes it . . . real, you know?"
He nodded seriously. "Yes, of course."
"Do you really have to take so many different things every day?"
"No. Some of the pills I only have to take once a month or once a week. And then there are a few things that I have to take every day, like vitamins and stuff." He swallowed the required dose with a glass of water, grimaced, and cleared his throat. "So, what are we doing today?" he asked as he stowed away his medication safely and neatly. Camille seemed to be stuck in her thoughts for a moment, but then she smiled. "Well, there's a little park not far from here. I thought it would be a good idea to go there. Sunshine and fresh air will be good for you."
Logan's expression was answer enough for her.
"Or we stay here where I can watch you struggle with your exercises," Camille remarked with a cautious smile. Logan's eyes widened for a moment, then he quickly said, "Sunshine and fresh air, sounds great. Let's go!"
And Camille laughed.
They sat down in the shadow of a tree that stood by a pond. On the other side, a group of ducks could be seen being fed bread by a family. They watched the goings-on around them in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Something in Logan wasn't letting him calm down, well actually it was several things. And he knew that if he didn't address it, it would continue to torment him. "Camille?"
She looked at him curiously. "Yes?"
"Um . . . there's something . . . something I've been thinking about for a while now. Especially since last night . . . you said something that I can't get out of my head."
"Really? What is that?"
"Do you remember that you once wrote me that letter? It said that you . . . well, that you're not exactly happy with your life and . . . and yesterday you told me that your biggest dream was to become an actress."
"So?"
"It's just . . . I'm a little worried. Because . . . is it true, that you only want to be an actress so you can . . . so you can be anyone you want except yourself?"
She looked at him in dismay. "What? How did you-? What?"
"Am I wrong?"
She stared at him, took a deep breath, but still didn't speak. Then she turned away from him and looked at the water. Logan felt stupid. He had in no way intended to hurt her feelings. Once again, he had done everything wrong. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"You're right," she murmured, so quietly he almost didn't hear it.
"Excuse me?"
"You're right," Camille repeated more clearly. "I've never really thought about it before, but yeah, what you're saying makes sense."
"I . . . um . . . I didn't mean to upset you."
"Then why did you bring it up?" She didn't sound angry, more curious.
"I . . . I don't know. It was just a feeling. I certainly don't want to stand in the way of your biggest dream, I just don't want you to do it for the wrong reasons. I don't want you to be unhappy."
"That's the sweetest thing that's ever been said to me," she said with a slight smile and kissed him on the cheek. "But I can calm you down. When I wrote the letter, I really wasn't my happiest self. I know I'm not perfect, I never will be perfect. But you know what, that's okay. Because a lot has changed now, and I feel much better."
"Really? I'm glad to hear that. And if you don't mind me asking, what exactly has been changed?"
"You," she answered simply. Logan frowned. "I have changed?"
"No, silly. You changed my life. You made it better."
"Oh," he murmured.
"Aren't you happy to hear that?"
"No, I mean yes, I . . . it's just, I don't often get to hear that I'm making someone's life better. Actually, it's always the other way around. I don't make lives better, I just mess them up."
"But not mine," she replied, running her hand through his dark hair. Logan tried to enjoy that gentle and loving gesture, but a depressing thought entered his mind, 'Just wait and see, day isn't over yet.'
The following evening, as Camille stood in her bathroom, preparing for the night, she thought about her boyfriend. He had been strange today, well, Logan was always a little strange, she had accept that. Still, something was different. She finished her evening routine and went back to her bedroom. Logan sat on her bed with his arms wrapped around his knees and he stared thoughtfully into space. He had never seemed so lost and lonely to her as in that very moment. She closed the door, sat down next to him on the edge of the bed and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Logan?"
Logan flinched, looking at her nervously.
"What is going on with you?" Camille asked worriedly, rubbing a hand soothingly over the back of his neck. Logan closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Then he said seriously, "Camille, I need to tell you something . . ."
