Camille was having dinner with her family, the conversations were in full swing, but her thoughts were somewhere else. That's why she didn't even notice at first that her mother had asked her something. Her younger brother tapped her on the shoulder, and she looked up. "Sorry, Mom. What did you say?"

"I asked if you're looking forward to visiting your grandparents in Connecticut this weekend."

Camille had completely forgotten about this upcoming trip. But suddenly she saw an opportunity, now she just had to play her cards right.

"Um, yes, but . . . Do I really need to come with you? To be honest, I'd rather stay at home."

"But you love being with your grandparents," her mother said, at the same moment as her father interjected, "That's not going to happen."

Camille exchanged a glance with both parents. "Of course I love being in Connecticut. But you know, my grades aren't good enough for college, so I'd like to use this time to study."

"Honey, your grades are perfect," her mother tried to reassure her.

"No, Mom, they're not." Actually, Camille wasn't bad at school, but she was average. She didn't mind, and she certainly wouldn't be studying the following weekend, but this was perhaps the only way to persuade her parents to leave without her.

"Well . . . if it's really that important to you . . ." Camille's mother began hesitantly.

"You don't really think about it, do you?" her father replied immediately.

"Camille is old enough to stay at home alone."

"And I promise you that I won't be throwing any kind of parties."

Her father didn't seem convinced.

"Please, Daddy," Camille begged, and her father sighed. "Fine. But don't let me regret it."

"I promise," Camille said, beaming.


Logan was doing one of his hated physical exercises and was more than relieved when his cell phone interrupted him in this arduous work. He was even more pleased when he saw that it was Camille who was calling him. "You're my lifesaver," he said after accepting the call. She laughed. "How come?"

"You saved me from the grueling and soul-breaking experience of my physical well-being."

"English, please?"

"I'm doing my exercises and was desperately looking for a reason to end them early."

"I understand that these exercises are not easy, but they are good for you, Logan," Camille said in a gentle tone. Logan grimaced. "If you keep talking like this, I'll end up feeling guilty."

"So my job is done," Camille replied, laughing again. Logan smiled but said nothing.

"But why I'm actually calling you . . . do you remember that you wanted to tell me something, but only under the right circumstances?"

"Yes . . ."

"What would you say if I told you I found a solution?"

"Um . . ."


Kendall was lying on his bed reading a Spiderman comic book until a gentle knock on his open door made him look up. Logan stood in the doorway and looked at him tensely. "Hey, Kendall."

"Hey," Kendall replied tonelessly, turning back to his comic book.

"Can we talk?"

"Why should we?" Kendall asked, without taking his eyes off his comic. "It doesn't matter what I say. In the end, you're doing what you want anyway."

"Please . . ."

Kendall grumbled something to himself, then he said, "Fine. Come in and close the door." Reluctantly, he sat up while Logan sat down on the desk chair.

"Please tell me your parents know where you are."

"Yes, they do. My dad drove me."

"Hmmm."

"I'm taking my meds again."

"Uh-uh."

"And my mom allowed me to see Camille again."

"Good for you."

"That's how you're talking to someone else?"

"Damn it, Logan!" Kendall barked angrily and jumped up from his bed. "Maybe you really don't care about your own life. But there are other people around you who actually care about you. And if you ignore all their well-intentioned advice and just do what you want without thinking about the consequences, then that's a good damn reason to be angry."

"I hear what you're saying," Logan said calmly. "But I still don't understand your problem."

"My problem?" Kendall repeated, perplexed. His face darkened again. "You want to know my problem? Fine, I'll tell you, Logan. My problem is that I was afraid of losing my best friend!"

Silence spread until Logan said, "Oh . . . I didn't know . . . I wasn't aware that I was your . . . I'm sorry."

Kendall crossed his arms, turned to the window, inhaled and exhaled heavily. Then he turned back to Logan. "Forget about it, okay?"

"Okay."

Kendall nodded and dropped back onto his bed, looking at Logan curiously. "And now tell me why you're actually here."

"Is it so obvious?"

Kendall grinned. "Yes."

Logan sighed deeply. "I can see Camille again and I'm very happy about that. On the other hand, we agreed that from now on we want to be honest with each other, so that's why-"

"You want to tell her."

"Yes."

"About time, if you ask me."

"I'm scared."

"Why?"

"Well . . . it's not just that I'm afraid of her reaction, there's something else . . . we will spend the weekend together . . . alone."

"And this circumstance makes you freak out?"

"Big-time."

"Why?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?! Kendall, I'm a nervous wreck."

Kendall sighed and raised a hand. "Okay, stop. Let's solve one problem at a time. Let's forget about the truth for now and focus on the weekend itself. So, what do you think could be the worst thing to happen?"

Logan stared at his friend in disbelief. "You're kidding me, aren't you?"

Kendall shook his head. "Not at all. So, what exactly are you so afraid of?"

"I . . . I don't know. There's so much that could go wrong."

"And what would be the worst-case scenario?"

"If . . . if I would say or do something wrong, and she would . . . I don't know . . . would laugh at me or be mad at me. After all, I have no idea how to behave with something like this. I've never had a relationship before, and-"

"And Camille knows that."

Logan was silent and thought about Kendall's words. "You're right. I think I got so caught up in what might happen instead of just sticking to the facts."

"Tell me the facts."

"Fact one: Camille knows how I am. Fact two: She accepts me the way I am."

"Don't forget fact number three: Camille doesn't just accept you, she likes you for who you are. Probably way more than liking, if you ask me."

"Right."

"So, do you still think that she would just kick you out of the house?"

"No," Logan said, smiling suddenly. "No, she wouldn't."

"Exactly. So, do you feel better now?"

"A little bit. But there's still that other thing . . ."

"Do you really think this story will change anything?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I do. It won't."

"You can't know that."

"You told me, and I'm still here."

"Yes, but-"

"No buts. Logan, you think this story might portray you badly, but it doesn't. You blame yourself for something that was never your fault. And Camille will feel the same way."

Logan just looked at him helplessly.

"Do you want me to tell you what to do?"

He nodded.

"You'll wait until the week comes to an end, then you'll pack your things and look forward to this weekend with your girlfriend. Everything else will fall into place. There's no need to worry. Trust me."