Calisto
Sometimes, even when someone wasn't directly touching you, you could still feel their presence. It was as if there was no air between the two of you, and the denim of their jeans would scratch the soft fabric of your shirt, and you could basically feel the heat radiating off of them. Or maybe that was just their hot breath on your shoulder.
"Camden," I moved my attention away from the laptop open in front of me, turning around on my bar stool to face him. "What do you want?"
His blond hair was (impossibly) even more disheveled than normal, but his grey eyes were their usual bright colour. His pink lips were pulled into an innocent smile that was so sincere that all you wanted to do was take him into your arms and never let anything happen to him ever. He was literally a puppy in human form.
"Look what came in the mail!" He gestured to the top he was wearing; it was a Mayday Parade tee. "And here, this one's yours!" He flashed me his usual dimpled smile as he extended his arm, which had a neatly folded shirt hanging on it.
I frowned at him. "I thought you went to the washroom," but it came out as more of a question than a statement.
"I did, but I went to change." He bit his lip then (something he had been doing a lot of lately), embarrassed, as he offered the shirt to me again.
I looked up at him and the shirt in his hand; no doubt a tee that matched the one he was currently wearing.
"It's a memento, isn't it?" He cocked his head to the side; he was confused in his typical cute Camden way. His blond eyebrows were drawn together and his lips were puckered, which caused little creases on his nose. "For the first time we met?"
Understanding hit him like a wave. His features smoothed over and his mouth formed a small O before he started scratching the back of his neck, nervously. "If I was going to give you something, I thought I might as well give you something significant. So yeah... Mayday Parade."
I took the shirt from his extended arm, quickly pulling it over my own shirt. "Thanks."
It was a nice blue colour and had the band's name printed on it. It was sweet of him.
Camden grinned his classic dimpled grin as he took the bar stool in front of me at our table.
"So did you just ask me to meet you so that I could read your work?" I lifted up my plastic cup of purple slush, using the straw to mix it a little bit before slipping it between my lips.
"Hey!" He crossed his arms across his chest. "You got a free t-shirt and taro bubble tea out of it, along with the chance to read the works of a soon-to-be world famous writer!"
"Oh," I moved the cup away from my lips just a little bit. "And don't forget that I get to spend my time with you." I purposely allowed my heavy sarcasm to ooze out of every one of my words. "What a reward, huh?"
"The biggest reward!" Camden smiled, pretending not to notice my sarcasm. "Keep reading!" He urged, pushing his open laptop closer to me.
I let out a sigh, running a hand through my annoyingly bright red hair. I pulled the laptop closer to me, continuing to read where I had left off before.
This had become a recent routine of ours, especially after I had congratulated him on his writing the first time that he had shown it to me- I definitely regret that now. Camden would call me up whenever he finished his writing (literally whenever; sometimes even in the middle of the night) and ask me to meet him somewhere (usually at Desiree's, where we currently were, since it was basically the best place in the entire world. I mean Belgian waffles? French crêpes? Bubble tea? And Camden's favourite: Flan cakes? What more could you ask for?) just so I could read his work.
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YOU ARE READING
Intertwined
Teen Fiction"Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth." -Marcus Aurelius Every story has two sides, or in this case, seven. High school is filled with teenage angst, excitement, boredom, secrets, judgemen...