Chapter 1

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[This story includes time leaps. I have added dates at the start of every chapter which I suggest to keep an eye on. There are not many drastic leaps. The characters DO grow older. Please enjoy!]

May 6th 2014
Camdens P.O.V

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Camden! Happy birthday to you!"
Mom leans down to re-light the silver and gold candles which read '12 TODAY' since Jackson, my little brother, would blow them out every two minutes or so. Once small flames flickered and sparked at the tips of the spindly wax, mom regained her position next to dad and fished out her Polaroid camera.

"Say cheese! Look this way, Cam. That's right, like a big boy!"
I glance uneasily at the people seated around the table. Most faces are utterly unrecognisable and I find myself fidgeting with the napkin sprawled across my lap. They're all kids from school that mom insisted I invite, though none of them look happy. None of them look as if they're trying to be happy. The corners of my mouth tug upwards, brow knitted together in uncertainty. Mom's finger sinks down onto a button atop of the Polaroid and then she quickly lowers it with a toothy grin.

"Perfect! I can't wait to see how it turns out-right, Kyle?"
Dad's blank stare doesn't shift until mom nudges him. He turns to gaze at my direction and nods. As mom sets the Polaroid down to wait for the photo to appear, she hands me a knife to cut the first slice of cake. This is something I had done for the past eleven years of my life, every single birthday- a tradition. I'm the birthday boy. I should feel special. Even the small act of being the one to push the knife through the cake first had always managed to convey these feelings, but...

I push away from the table with one hand to my head and quickly dismiss the strange looks I receive from the guests. Mom withdraws with the knife still in her fist and her mouth parted slightly in puzzlement.

"Are you alright, dear?" she questions, raising an eyebrow. I retaliate by shaking my head and standing up, the laced napkin slipping from my lap and onto the tiled restaurant floor. It wasn't that I felt particularly sick or anything, but I also didn't want to spend a moment longer in the company of at least fifteen unrecognisable kids and my loud, oblivious mom. I'd only be saving myself from further humiliation.
"I'm going to the toilet. I think I might throw up, so you don't have to save any cake for me" I say, gesturing towards the huge chocolate monstrosity. Mom nods in an understanding manner.

"...take your time. Oh and Cam, try not to be sick, dear. You have school tomorrow."
I take off towards the bathroom with a wry smile, snaking past the bustling waiters and waitresses holding platters of glorious foods. When I spot the sign for the male toilets I hurry over, a slight stumble in my steps, and I push the door open. I'm quickly greeted by a blast of air conditioning and so I stop to lean against the wall to relish the moment. My hair had matted to my brow in wet black curls due to the lack of air conditioning in the restaurant. Quite frankly, it'd affected my mood as well.

As I straighten my posture and turn the corner to get to the sinks, I notice a boy washing his hands at the very end. He looks unusual, with fine blond hair tucked beneath a khaki green cap and a woollen jumper pulled over a white collared blouse. My eyes avert to the mirror where I can get a proper look at his face. I take in the arch of his bushy eyebrows, curve of his top lip and the few loose strands peeking from the khaki cap. He looks quite preoccupied with washing his hands, almost as if he's enjoying it. I shrug and turn to face the mirror myself. Perhaps he's a foreigner.

When I turn on the tap and cup my hands to catch the cold water and splash it over my face, I can't help but to glance a little over at the boy. Only this time he wasn't washing his hands, but leaning against the dryer with narrowed eyes.
"Wotcher lookin' at, mate? Do yer think I'm ugly or sumfink? It's cheeky ter stare yer know."

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