Wait for You (11 page)

I also started to look forward to Sundays.
 

Each morning since the very first, Cam showed up at my door at all kinds of ungodly hours with eggs and something he’d baked. The second Sunday, it was blueberry muffins. The third Sunday it was pumpkin bread—from a box, he’d admitted. The four and the fifth Sunday, it was strawberry cake and then brownies.

Brownies in the morning were the shit.

Thing were really… good with the exception of email and phone. At least once a week, I’d get a call from an UNKNOWN CALLER. I deleted the messages and the emails without opening them. There was at least fifteen unread emails from my cousin. One of these days I was going to read them, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that or call my parents.

They hadn’t called me, so I didn’t see the point.
 

By the beginning of October, I was happier than I’d been in so long. The scent of autumn, something I missed while living in Texas, was in the air, long sleeves could be worn without looking like a freak, and cramming for mid-terms during lunch included M&Ms and Skittles.
 

“Can someone please tell me where Croatia is on this map?” Jacob groaned. “Like is there a song I can come up with that will somehow remind me of this?”

“Hungary, Slovenia, Bosnia,” I said, pointing at the blank map of Europe. “And then there is Serbia.”

Jacob glared at me. “Fucking overachieving bitch.”

I popped a red Skittle in my mouth. “Sorry.”

“Can you imagine a song with those names?” Brit dipped her fries in mayo.
 

“That is so gross,” Jacob muttered.

She shrugged. “It’s yummy.”

“Actually, I’m going to nerd out on you, so prepare.” I picked up an M&M and held it in front of Jacob. His eyes widened like a puppy about to get a treat. “With the exception of Hungary, all of the countries next to Croatia end with an a. They all sound alike. Think of it that way.”

His eyes narrowed. “That didn’t help.”

I sighed. “You want a song?”

“Yes.” He stood up at our table, in the middle of the Ram’s Den, and shouted. “Yes! I want a song!”

“Wow.”

He raised his hands as several students turned in their seats. “What? What?” He turned back to me. “Was that a little too much?”

“Yes,” I said. “Most def.”

 
Brit put her forehead on her textbook. “Seriously,” she groaned. “I can’t believe he’s making us map Europe on our mid-term. I thought I’d left that shit behind in high school.”

“Give me a song, nerd,” Jacob demanded.
 

“Oh, my God, you’re ridiculous.” Shaking my head, I placed my hands on the table. “Okay. Here you go. Hungary to the upper left, upper left, Serbia to the lower left, lower left. Bosnia on the bottom, on the bottom. Slovenia to the top, to the top. And where’s Croatia?”

“Where? Where?” Jacob sung.

“It’s next to the Adriatic Sea, across from Italy!”

Jacob popped up straight. “Again! Again!”

I went through the song twice more while Brit gaped at the both of us. By the time, Jacob whipped out his pen and started scribbling countries across the map, my face was the shade of a tomato, but I was giggling like a hyena.
 

And he got the map right, with the exception of putting France where the United Kingdom was supposed to be but I think he was just testing me on that one, because seriously.
 

I tossed an M&M at his mouth. It bounced off his lower lip.
 
On the replay, I got the M&M in his mouth. He swallowed and shot forward, lowering his face next to mine. “Guess what?”

“What?” I leaned back.

He blinked two times. “Here comes your boyfriend.”

Looking over my shoulder, I spotted Cam entering the Den with not one girl but a girl on either side of him, gazing up at him like he was the last eligible, hot guy on campus. I rolled my eyes at Jacob. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Gurl, you got competition.” Jacob folded his arms on the table. “That’s Sally and Susan—beta, delta, boogie-sigma-chi-latte- VPs.”

Brit’s brows lowered. “That’s not even close to a sorority name.”

“Whatever.”

“It’s not a competition, because it’s not like that between us.” Slowly, surely, I looked over my shoulder. The trio had stopped by the couches. Cam was paying attention to whatever the two girls were saying to him. One of the girls, the blonde, had her hand on his chest and was moving it in tiny circles. My eyes narrowed. Was she giving him a breast exam? I turned back to Jacob.

He raised his brows.

“They can have him,” I said, throwing three Skittles in my mouth.

“I don’t get you two,” Brit said, closing her book. Study time was over. “You guys see each other practically every day, right?”

I nodded.
 

“He comes over every Sunday and makes you breakfast, right?” she added.

Jacob flipped me off. “I hate you for that.”

“Yeah, he does, but it’s not like that.” Thank God I never told them about him asking me out because I’d never hear the end of it then. “Look, we’re friends. That’s all.”

“Are you gay?” Jacob demanded.
 

“What?”

“Look, I’m the last person to judge your sexual preference. I mean, come on.” He jerked his thumbs back at him. “So are you gay?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not gay.”

“I’m not either, but I’d go gay for you.” Brit smiled.

“Thanks.” I giggled. “I’d go gay for you too.”

“How cute,” Jacob said. “Not the point. That fine, mother fucking specimen of a man is all up in you—oh my God, he’s ditched the ra-ra’s and is coming over.”

My stomach knotted and I prayed to God, Shiva, and Zeus that Jacob didn’t say anything that would make me want to kill him later.
 

“Damn,” Jacob said, shaking his head. “He makes jeans look like they were molded to fit his—hey, Cameron! How’s it going?”

I closed my eyes.
 

“Hey, Jacob. Brittany.” Cam dropped into the seat beside me and nudged my arm. “Avery.”

“Hey,” I murmured, acutely aware of Jacob and Brittany staring at us. I closed my text and shoved it in my bag. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know, mischief and mayhem,” he replied.

“That so reminds me of Harry Potter,” Brit said, sighing. “I need a re-read.”

We all turned to her.

Two bright spots appeared in her cheeks as she tossed her blonde hair back. “What? I’m not ashamed to admit that random things remind me of Harry Potter.”

“That guy over there reminds me of Snape,” Cam said, jerking his chin to the table behind us. “So I understand.”

The guy with the jet-black hair did kind of look like Snape.

“Anyway, what are you guys doing?” Cam shifted and his leg rested against mine. I swallowed. “Playing with M&Ms and Skittles?”

“Yes, that and we’re studying for our History mid-term next week. We have to map out Europe,” Jacob explained.

“Ouch.” Cam knocked me with his leg.

I knocked his leg back.

“But Avery, wonderful, Avery…” Jacob glanced at me, his grin spreading, and my eyes were narrowing. “She’s been helping us study.”

“That she has,” Brit said.
 

Cam sent me a sidelong glance, and I scooted away from him.

Popping his chin on his hand, Jacob smiled at Cam. “Before we started studying, I was telling Avery that she should wear the color green more often. It makes her sexy with that hair of hers.”

My mouth dropped open. He had so not even said that about the stupid cardigan I was wearing.

“Do you like the color green on her, Cam?” Brit asked.

Oh my God.

Cam turned to me, his blue eyes as deep as the waters off the coast of Texas. “The color looks great on her, but she looks beautiful every day.”

Heat crept across my cheeks as I let out a low breath.

“Beautiful?” Brit repeated.

“Beautiful,” Cam repeated, reclaiming what little distance I’d managed to put between us. He nudged my knee again. “So did you guys learn anything from studying?”

I let out the breath. “I think we got it.”

“Because of you.” Jacob glanced at Brit, and my stomach dropped. “Avery came up with this song to help me remember where the countries were.”

Oh no.
 

“Sing him your song.” Brit elbowed me so hard that I bounced off Cam and ricocheted back.
 

Interest sparked in Cam’s eyes. “What song?”

“I am not singing that song again.”

Jacob beamed up at Cam. “It’s the Croatia song.”

I shot him a death glare.

Cam laughed. “The Croatia song? What?”

“No,” I said again. “I am not singing again. That is so not my talent.”

“What kind of talents do you have?” Cam asked, and when I looked at him, I kind of got hung up on the cut line of his jaw, of the way his hair brushed his temples. What the hell? Cam was staring back at me, brows raised. “Avery?”

“Do tell,” Jacob coaxed.

Brit nodded. “Talents are fun.”

“They can be.” Cam’s gaze dropped, and I sucked in a soft breath. He leaned over and there wasn’t more than an inch or two separating our mouths. I heard Jacob’s audible gasp. “Tell me what your talents are, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart,” Jacob murmured with a soft sigh.
 

“Dancing,” I blurted out. “I danced. I
used
to dance.”

Curiosity filled Cam’s face. “What kind of dancing?”

“I don’t know.” I grabbed the bag of Skittles and dumped the rest of them into my palm. “Ballet, jazz, tap, contemporary—that kind of stuff.”

“No shit?” Jacob exclaimed. “I did tap when I was like six, for about a month, and then decided I wanted to be a fireman or something like that. That shit was hard.”

Brit smirked. “I tried dance and discovered I had no coordination or grace beyond shaking my ass. Were you any good at it?”

I shrugged, uncomfortable. “I took classes for about ten years, did some competitions and a lot of recitals.”

“Then you were good!” Brit said. “I bet you did all those crazy turns and tricks.”

I used to be able to do a ton of them and was at one point crazy flexible, but the thing I was really good at, had been the turns—the
fouette tour
—arguably the hardest series of spins in ballet.
 

Cam had been quiet for a few moments, a very odd thing indeed. “My sister did dance since she was around five. Still does. I think she’d cut someone if they made her stop.”

Shoving the rest of the Skittles in my mouth, I nodded. “Dancing can be addictive if you like it.”

“Or are good at it,” Brit interjected.

Cam bumped me with his shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

I’d loved to dance—loved every part of it. The training, the rehearsing, and especially the anticipation leading up to the moment you stepped out onto the stage. Nothing felt like that moment when you waited in the wings for your name to be called; the first breath you took as you stepped onto center stage and stood under the bright lights. The quiet moment when you closed your eyes while you waited for your music to begin, knowing that everyone was focused on you.

Shrugging my shoulders, I reached for what was left of the M&Ms. “I guess I got tired of it,” I said finally. The lie was a big one. I didn’t grow tired of dancing. I missed it more than anything, but I couldn’t stand for people to stare. “Does your sister do competitions?”
 

He nodded. “She’s traveled all over and spent the summer at the Joffrey School of Ballet on a scholarship.”

“Holy shit,” I gasped, my eyes widening. “She must be damn good.”

Cam smiled proudly. “She is.”

Envy grew like a cancer, deep and invasive. That could’ve been me dancing at one of the most well-known training centers in the world. It should’ve been me, but it wasn’t and I needed to just deal with that.

Conversation sort of just fell apart after that, at least for me. Cam chatted with Brit and Jacob while I was lost in my own thoughts until it was time to go to class. I made plans for another study session and then said my goodbyes.

Cam followed me out in the bright sunlight and the steady, cool breeze that warned that colder weather was well on its way. He didn’t say anything as we walked over to Knutti Hall. Sometimes he did that, and I never knew or could begin to speculate on what he could be thinking during those quiet moments.
 

It was in that moment, as we crossed the congested street and he waved at a group standing in front of the Byrd Center, that I realized how different he was than when I saw him with the two girls earlier. It bothered me and it didn’t know why I even cared.

“Are you okay?” he asked when we stopped by the benches in front of Knutti Hall.