Manorexic

Chapter Two

Ariel was one of those girls that seemed untouchable. 

She had waist length hair and a freckle-speckled nose that, undoubtedly, would look adorable with a stud piercing (which she got two months into their love.) Her shoulders were always pushed back and her butt swayed a little when she walked down the hall and her laugh...

Cameron would've never approached her if he had known she was a senior. 

But he did, and he asked her to the movies and she had popped her gum in his face and said, "what's in it for me?" and right then, Cameron knew he'd get stuck on her because instead of giggling like a little, ill-matured freshman, she took dominance and made sure she'd have something to look forward to.

He had expected her not to show up that Thursday night (because she wanted to drive herself and that was her only night off) but she did, and dear god did she look amazing. She wore a maxi skirt with a blue tanktop and no shoes. Her hair was pulled into a pony tail with a braid striping across her forehead. Cameron didn't say anything as he held his hand out to her, he couldn't utter a word.

"Relax," she said, "they're just boobs." 

His faced burned and he slightly thanked god that movies were dark, because if not he wouldn't have been able to take his eyes off her.

Cameron stared blankly at his front door, his eyebrows pulled in tight. He was mad at himself, mad at the eating disorder chewing in his stomach. Not to long ago, Cameron could eat a whole 12'' pizza alone, and still be starving. Back then, he had "pecs" and a stomach to be proud of. 

But then his dad left, and then he fell into depression. He gained fifty pounds and his friends joked that he was a cup size smaller than Ariel. And then... he quit eating. He opened the car door and walked up the long path that was his driveway, peeking in the garage. His mother's car was gone and his stomach wrenched. He was divided, he kind of wanted her there so he could cry to her, but he was also glad that she wasn't, because then there'd be questions, then Cameron wasn't just ready to tell the truth.  He walked up the porch steps and grazed the swing with his knee, twisted the nob to his front door and went straight to the couch. His breath caught in his throat as he began crying again. Why had he been dealt such a shit card in life? Why had he been forced to endure such anarchy?

Stop he told himself crying over the girl is not going to get her back, action will. 

He pushed himself off the couch, going down the stairs to his room. Shutting and locking the door (for precaution of course) Cameron dragged his desk chair to his closet, opening the doors before standing atop the chair and pulling down two card board boxes. One was labeled, "KEEP OUT! Christmas presents inside!" and another, "Ariel's love box." Cameron remember naming the boxes with secret contents, a smirk coming to his face as he knew the decoys would work.

Any person who'd enter his room and see the box labeled, "Christmas presents" wouldn't peek. They would see a line not to cross and leave it. And who would want to look into someone else's relationship?

Ariel. That's who. Cameron remembered the day she'd found the box.

"Baaabe, i'm getting a sweater from your closet alright?" She said. He nodded, continuing his reading, she jumped off the bed, opening his closet and rustling through it's contents. 

"Hmm? Baby, what's that?" she said, standing on her tip toes, trying to reach the box. Cameron flew, slamming the sliding door shut.

"Not for you. Secret, plans for the future." He said, bopping her nose and pushing her back to the bed, kissing her hard.