What Are You Doing? #LGBT

Chapter 3

May 7th 2014
Camden's P.O.V

As soon as light climbs through the gaps in my curtain I turn to pat the napkin on my bedside table to check if it's still there. The faint numbers that Maya had etched into it were already faded, but I'd recited his number to myself too many times to forget. In fact, last night I held my phone with the aim to save his number into my contacts but my nerves had gotten the better of me. When I realised that only I could call him it gave me the courage to send a short text saying;
'Hello. It's Camden.'

Yet I read it over this morning with red ears and cheeks. What a ridiculously strange thing to say. At this moment mom nudges the door open with her shoulder, carrying a basket to the brim with clothes in her arms.

"Cam, are you awake?" she says, in her usual delighted tone.
"Yeah, uh-"
"Oh! You're not getting dressed are you? I can go if you want-"
"No, mom" I mumble. She takes this as an invitation into my room, closing the door with her foot, shirts and socks falling from the basket and leaving a trial on the carpet.

I place my phone upon the napkin and scoot further under the covers, afraid that mom will question what I'm looking at or who I'm texting. After all, mom and I both know that my phone is never used since I have no real use for it.
"Here you go" she heaves, dumping the basket atop of my legs. The weight must've damaged something because I feel my face crumpling with pain.

"Mom!"
"Sorry Cam, but you should at least get out of bed. That was more of a..motivational act," she says, "and please open your curtains, it's quite dark in here." Before I can respond my phone vibrates and flashes. In an instant I meet eyes with mom, who's lips are pursed and eyebrows raised in a curious manner. My hand snakes out from under the covers but mom is quicker. She reaches for the phone and scans my notification.

"Whose this? It says; 'Hey Camden, a place in London. I'm happy you reached out to me, do you mind me coming over?'"
I give mom a wry smile and snatch my phone back, taking her by surprise. However, she had looked quite surprised when she'd read the text aloud.
"Camden! My dear, do you have a British girlfriend?" she exclaims, every ounce of excitement dancing on her words. I heavily exhale and shake my head.
"The opposite, actually."

---------

When mum had left (after too much persuasion) I type out my address and send it to Maya. He must live in my area if he's a student at the same school. Then I climb out of bed and lazily slump over to the doorframe.

Faint lines of coloured biro mark certain places on the frame which represent my growth in height. It hadn't changed drastically over the past two years, but increased by only two-three centimetres or so maximum. This meant that the lines were all clumped together instead of evenly spaced out, with little (clumsily written) dates beside each one.

I press my fingers together and place my hand atop of my head, sliding it back until it touches the frame. Then, keeping my hand very still, I turn around to see where it had landed. For some strange reason, it seems I've shrunk rather than grown, since my hand had hit the line of my height back in 2011.

I jolt a little as my phone vibrates and sings a sweet tune, indicating that I have a call. I answer and listen intently. Loud breathing noises tickle my ear until a familiar, strongly accented voice begins to talk.

"Is this Camden? It's me, Maya. I still 'ave some way ter go but I'll be at yors in 'round..ten minutes or so. I mean, if I'm quick enough. I 'ad a big breakfast this mornin' and let me tell yer, it's weighin' me down."
A smile tugs the corners of my lips.

"Alright" I respond, unable to compress my sheepish grin. Maya pauses before continuing. Possibly he assumed I was going to extend on my answer.
"'It's quite 'ot 'ere, ain't it? Let me rephrase that, it's super 'ot. England were eever cold or on and off, so I'm not used ter this yet. Guess I've gotta, though-"

He's interrupted by the squeal of a girl and I freeze. Perhaps it's Lucy?
"Whose that?" I say, voice flat and barely audible.
"Oh, uh.." Maya starts, but now sounding nervous. "Yer know that girl Elsa? She were at yor birthday yesterday- she seen me walkin' past a shop she were in and came runnin' out. Started sayin' 'ow she wanted ter spot me today and would come wiv me ter yor place because she 'ad nuffink else ter do. Sort o' weird, I know, but I couldn't stop it Cam. I swear. It's alright ain't it? If she tags along?"

Couldn't stop it, huh? My eyes avert to the curtain which I had still not opened. A sort of cold feeling clenches at my insides and Elsa squeals irritatingly again. I was the one to meet Maya first. He's my friend, not her's. What a strange coincidence as well, that they'd met on the streets. I shake my head from these thoughts and reply,
"Yeah, that's fine. Just be quick." Then I hang up and wait.

After only three minutes (to be exact) a knock echoes down the hall to my room and I hear mom opening the front door. Since I could only hear muffled sounds I open my door a crack and continue to listen.
"-happy, thank you!" chirps a frustratingly sweet voice, belonging to none other than Elsa Brown herself.

"Woss Camden doin'?" bellows Maya. I rest my head against the wall.
"Cam should be in his room! Though I'm not too sure why he hasn't come and greeted the two of you yet. Excuse his rudeness" mutters mom. If I'm honest, since the call my mood had dropped completely. I close my door with a small 'click' yet it's soon barged open by Maya, Elsa trailing after him. Today he'd dressed himself in a long coat (which he'd carelessly thrown onto my bedside table, knocking over an alarm) and a shirt displaying the Supreme logo. I choke on my own saliva.

"Is that a Supreme shirt? The real thing?"
Maya meets my awe-stricken stare with a slight smile, eyes flashing mischievously.
"Nope. I made it online for about eight dollars. I'm not about that rich life, but yer spot? It's an exact replicate."

"Yeah" Elsa giggles, "can't you tell it's fake, anyway?" As if she knew herself. I can't stand her. In fact, as I scrutinise her features closely in search of a hideous flaw to make me feel better about, I notice that she has not one. Her pretty heavy-lashed eyes sicken me whenever they meet mine. I glance between the two of them with a scowl.

"Do yer want ter do sumfink, then? We can watch a film or go ter the park" says Maya.
"There are no local parks-" I retort, but Elsa is fast to cut me off.
"Yes there is, a park is just opposite here" she exclaims, which makes me curl my fists. Maya looks at me, and for a flash of a moment I notice the disappointment in his face. I suppose he'd notice my disliking towards Elsa or my foul attitude. Or both. After all, I'd never acted in such a way before.

Usually I'm one to keep quiet and smile when necessary. That was the boy he'd met in the bathroom yesterday. With a deep inhale, I decide to fix my aggressive expression and turn to Elsa.
"You're right. We can go to the park, then? Or stay and play video games in the living room. It's your choices, really."

Maya's eyes lighten and Elsa blinks slowly.
This will be a blatantly hard friendship to handle, but I'm willing to take it as a change for the better.