Like You Mean It

11. Hayden

Cam was beautiful. Definitely the prettiest guy I had ever seen. And he was so sweet and caring and funny and smart and charming and deserved so much more than the cards he got dealt. And he was currently half asleep in my bed with his head on top of my chest at 2 am, one of my arms wrapped around his torso while the other played with his hair, his stupidly soft hair. Both of his arms were around me, lazily surrounding my upper chest and shoulders.

"Why did you have heart surgery?" I asked, tired out of my mind, "If you don't mind me asking."

"It's kind of cool actually. I was born really premature, they weren't sure why. It just happened. So, I was born at 23 weeks, and I only had about a 50% chance of living. I was pretty underdeveloped everywhere. They think it might be why I have type-1 because it doesn't run in my family but anyway, the main issue was my heart. The left half of my heart was super underdeveloped to the point it would've still been a bit of a problem if I was born on time, so my blood didn't circulate properly after I was born. So, they cut open my heart three times, redirected deoxygenated blood straight to my lungs, combined all of my heart pumps to be used for oxygenated blood, and stuck me on blood thinners," He explained, "It was kind of a shocker that I survived because I was still pretty small and weak when they did the surgeries. But I fought through it, I guess. They were really only expecting me to live a few weeks after I was born and...here I am."

"Wow. So, you have a custom-made chest and a custom-made heart," I noted.

He laughed, his chest buzzing against mine, "Yeah when you put it that way I do." He looked up at me with his stupid face.

His stupid, gorgeous, stunning face that I swear people would've written poetry about in Ancient Greece. With those stupid, beautiful dimples and the galaxy of freckles and his kaleidoscope eyes that shone in the pale moonlight. I understand why people liked poetry and art so much now. I understand why people had some inherent need to create art about the beauty of another person. Cam was...yeah. He was art in every feature and trait and aspect of himself. He was masterpiece that I was able to hold in my arms.

"Why did you decide to do percussion over anything else?" He asked, he sounded half-awake.

"I just wanted to hit things because I was a hyperactive kid. Why aren't you a drum major?" I asked.

He chuckled, "What?"

"Why aren't you a drum major? You work well with people, you have an incredible sense of leadership, hell you helped mini-Sam with some of his marimba runs the other day while you were waiting for me after rehearsal even though we're from rival schools. Why aren't you drum major?" I asked.

"Kayden, Maddie, and Tom were all drum majors last year. They don't get any say in who becomes drum major, but I knew that if I even thought about trying out people wouldn't believe that I got it because I deserved it. I want to get drum major by my own merit, not from how amazing my siblings are." He explained, "Besides, I just...I don't think I'd deserve it if I got it during high school. The whole Miller legacy thing kind of just haunts me."

"Oh," I said softly then added, "Well, I think you would've gotten it on your own merit."

He shrugged, "Yeah maybe. But I would never feel like I lived up to it. Kayden and Maddie were fantastic drum majors who were great leaders and role models. Tom is doing fantastic things and knows how to get everyone settled. And I'm just, I don't know. I'm just me."

I looked over at him, placing a hand on his cheek, "Yeah but you're awesome."

He rolled his eyes, "Why aren't you drum major?"

"I didn't want to be this year. I love quads too much, I wanted at least one more season marching them with Lovell. I'm probably going to try out for it in the spring though, just to see if I could get it." I smiled, "Why do you think you're not amazing?"

He sighed and shrugged, "I'm not some great leader or some prodigy. I'm just some random guy who happens to go to a school that's really good. I'm just lucky. I don't really think I've worked enough for the things people have given me."

I looked at him in disbelief, "Cam, you would practice well past lights out over the summer. You spent the entire bus ride to every competition practicing your music. I know for a fact you've practiced that drum break until your hands were bleeding. You have calluses all over them." I grabbed his right hand and traced his palms which were calloused and cracked.

It was clear to everyone but him how hard he worked, "You put in more hours than everyone in the band combined, I'm sure of it. That's just who you are, Cam. You may think that all these amazing things just fall into your lap, but you bust your ass off to get them. You think so much of the future that you can't appreciate the work you've done in the past. You're honestly amazing."

He was crying, I cupped his face with my hands and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. That was the third time I kissed him without an audience. Shit, I really liked him. Like I actually liked him. I really did. We had been fake dating for maybe a month, but it felt so...real.

I had always felt so conflicted about him, this summer especially. I thought it was just that I hated him. My heart rate would fluctuate, and my face would heat up and I would stammer through responses, and I couldn't think about anything except for him for a full summer. Oh...I liked him this summer.

I definitely liked him over the summer.

Christ, how long have I liked him for?

He was falling asleep in my arms. I wrapped my arms around him again, one on the small of his back and the other playing with his hair. I felt him sigh into the touch and my mind was spinning. All I could think about was Cam. Kissing Cam, hugging Cam, watching movies and cuddling, going on dates with him, dancing with him at 3 am in the kitchen in matching pajamas, studying together but doing more making out than studying at any given point.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

I was gone.

Completely, totally, irrevocably head over heels in love with the guy that would destroy me.