Camryn Quinn is finally getting what she wants...sort of. Moving into a dorm and away from her not so supportive father is a good first step, but like everything with him, it comes with strings. She must attend the college of his choosing for at lea...
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I'm watching highlight videos from Zoey's games so far this season, swiping up on the screen every few minutes when a new message arrives from Cal or Shawn asking where I'm at. The post-game celebration will continue until the early morning hours for a game that I once played waterboy for instead of tight end.
I stand to leave anyway, having been here for hours now. My Facetime with my mom and sister ended at least an hour ago. I just wasn't ready to go have to face people after seeing her. My mom has finished a week of treatment and thought she could lie to me. She claimed she's feeling fine, but Zoey called her out immediately.
It may be her most annoying quality, but I'm glad Zoey at least told me the truth. Our mom has been bedridden after every treatment and hasn't been able to keep any food down. I could tell that just from looking at her. Her body looked puffy and swollen already. It took at least a month for the inflammation to happen last time. I told Zoey I would mail them some of the electrolytes from the training facility. They pump them into us during camp and the hotter season games.
It took everything in me not to tear up during the call. It was even harder to pretend I'm fine with everything.
The cashier takes my check as I walk up to the register, typing the numbers in and telling me my total. I hand over a twenty just as the bell on the door rings. Harry's isn't that big and the register is basically in the doorway, so I'm in the way. I try to move over for the person to pass by. They do without even glancing in my direction.
The diner is open late, but I find it hard to believe that everyone is drunk enough already to be looking for a late night meal. I watch as she walks with her head down. I'm surprised she's alone. Most of them travel in packs of at least twenty. Especially girls who dress like that.
Her jeans are so tight they look painted on, strips of skin peeking through slits in the thighs and knees. Her tank top shows off a toned stomach, and hugs her chest perfectly. I should just go talk to her. It would give me a real excuse to not have to meet up with the guys, and it would help take my mind off of all the other shit in my life.
She was looking down at her phone so I couldn't see her face. When she lifts it though, I find myself walking to her table for a completely different reason.
"What's up GI Jane?" I say, sliding into the booth across from her. She looks up at me, but quickly pulls the menu to her body, opening it and lifting. Creating a wall between us. Score one for Taylor.
"Of course you're here.... Why are you here? Shouldn't you be on your throne watching the cheer team sacrifice a virgin for you or something?" she snaps from behind the menu.
I bite my cheek, holding back my laugh and answer, "I'm on my way there. We just needed the virgin, but now that you're here let's go." I reach a hand over the table and grasp her arm. At this she moves the menu lower, letting me see her face. She's also wearing makeup, something else I've never noticed on her. Her eye roll tells me she is less than impressed with my joke.
She looks so different from her normal baggy clothes and converse. This version of her is much hotter. I could get behind this, quite literally, but then Cal's voice pops into my head. It's easy to ignore it. I wouldn't be me if I didn't poke at least a little bit.
"Come on Cap. Take a joke. Let me start over... Hi Camryn, how are you?" I ask and flash her a toothy smile.
"If you think I am going to gush over you, you're wrong," she says, rolling her eyes again. Two times in less than a minute must be a record.
"No gush necessary, but you could at least act like you know me. You know, considering we spend multiple hours a week together."
"Hi Taylor...Now really what are you doing here? How do you even know about this place?"
"I always come here after games, but what are you doing here? And dressed like—" I dip my head to the side to give me a view under the table. "Army Barbie?"
She holds my eyes for a second longer, but doesn't say anything. I give the same in return. Only I let a smile creep onto my lips, hoping it will melt away a little of whatever the hell her problem is. More of Cal's words snake into my mind. Ever since the offer, I can't help but wonder how bitchy isn't her problem. If it were Zoey, that might be enough for me to not want to interact with her.
She picks the menu up again, her barrier back in place before she responds. "GI Joes and Army Hoes." She dropped the menu enough to show me her eyes, but then raised it again. "I am suddenly very aware that I am half naked in public and do quite literally look like Army Barbie."
"It could be worse. You could look like Army Ken," I shrug. "Which I would have expected given how you usually dress. At least this way, guys might actually want you."
Camryn's only response is a middle finger. I can see her wall going back up. I fight back a laugh as the waitress appears, the same one who waited on me. She's an older lady who reminds me of my grandma. Probably working here late at night because she has someone to take care of, the same way my grandma would if she needed to.
She smiles at me, but Camryn speaks first. She doesn't bother to write down Camryn's order of a coffee and french fries. Camryn obviously is not leaving or going to bed anytime soon, so I order the same.
It earns me another eye roll when she realizes that I don't plan on leaving her. She drops the menu completely and places it back in its place wedged between the condiments and the wall.
"My roommate decided to go to the bars with a group of people. I wasn't quite in the bar mood, but wasn't ready to go home." She drops her gaze from my eyes to the mug of fresh coffee the waitress has sat in front of her. I watch as she reaches over to the black caddy full of individually wrapped sugars and creamers. She grabs one creamer and two brown packets of sugar with confidence, telling me that she must drink that same combination frequently. I however, can never remember my coffee combination and end up ruining it with too much of one or the other so I stick with it black.
She rips open each container, slowly adding them to her mug with a picture of Snoopy laying on his red doghouse printed on it. The diner doesn't have a mass amount of restaurant grade mugs. Instead they have a giant collection of mismatched dishware that people have donated over the years. Mine is a boring gray blue with a chip on the rim I have to avoid with each sip. Camryn unwraps her silverware, using her spoon to stir the contents of her cup before sliding her fingers through the hole and bringing it to her lips. She blows softly and then takes a sip.
It becomes a cycle she continues for the next few minutes. Neither of us says anything. I'm mainly just waiting for her to react. With each blow and sip, the hardass demeanor she has during our sessions seems to melt away. It's like catching a teacher in the wild. She's usually so serious that I can't help but be fascinated with the creature in front of me. I want to know more.
