I was happy, but not entirely surprised, to see that my Mom and Cameron got on great. She thought that he was polite and sweet, and apparently, absolutely perfect for me. In an offhand comment in the kitchen while we cleaned up and he sat in the other room, she asked why I was so against bringing him home sooner. I told her that it was because I didn't want to move things too fast, and she nodded understandingly.
"He's handsome, isn't he?" she giggled, nudging me. I rolled my eyes and smiled at her, not saying anything.
Truth be told, though, the longer I spent with him, the more I grew to like him. It turned out that we actually had a few classes together, and I felt bad for not noticing him sooner.
"Don't worry, I don't speak much." He said brightly, but I still felt bad. We spent most of the evening upstairs in my room, alternating between playing video games, reading comics and laying down on my bed, facing the ceiling, and just talking. The last one was my favorite. There was no pressure to impress him, or to say anything in particular, we just talked.
"I'm worried about something." I said. He turned his head so he was facing me.
"What is it?"
"I can't tell you."
"That's okay. I hope it works out." He said simply, and I grinned. Hanging out with Cameron was so easy. There was no complications, no expectations and, as bad as it sounds, because I didn't actually have feelings for him, there wasn't any way they could get hurt. I felt his hand inch towards mine, his fingers brushing mine and I, being a selfish, despicable asshole, let him entwine our fingers, ignoring the way my stomach turned with guilt at the shy smile that spread across his face.
"I like you a lot." He said, still looking up at the ceiling.
"Oh."
"It's okay, I like hanging out with you, so you know. No pressure." He laughed.
"You're actually okay with just being my friend?" I asked hopefully.
"Well, yeah. For now, anyway." He said.
"That's probably the bravest thing you've ever said, right?" I laughed. He smiled.
"Yeah, it is. I'm glad you didn't laugh at me, or I'd have cried." He chuckled. I squeezed his fingers and stared back up. He sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes.
"I should go." He said. I nodded and led him downstairs, our hands still entwined. He thanked my Mom for dinner and I opened the door for him.
"Thanks for inviting me over. I hope we can do this again." He said softly. I dropped his hand and smiled.
"Yeah, definitely." I said. There was a moment of awkwardness where I thought he was going to kiss me, but he just hugged me quickly, and walked out. I shut the door behind him and took a deep breath. Cameron made me feel happy. It was as simple as that. Sitting upstairs, looking at my ceiling and talking about nothing had me more relaxed than I'd been all year. But that didn't mean I was ready to drop Gerard for him – quite the opposite, actually. This time with Cameron only made me feel my need for Gerard more. I jogged up to my room and called him. He answered almost straight away.
"Frank." He breathed, sounding relieved. I smiled at the sound of his voice.
"Hey." I said softly.
"How was it?" he asked, his voice nervous. I perched on my bed.
"It was fine. My Mom totally bought it, and Cam seemed pretty happy to be friends with me. Just friends." I said, hoping I was reassuring him.
"I hate this."
