Flicker (4 page)

Right. Because we're friends. Something is
seriously wrong with me today. "Yeah, but can we take your car?" I
tap my forehead with my finger.

"Again?" His smile fades and my gut
clenches. I don't need more people worrying about me. Especially
Cameron. He has enough on his mind right now.

"I'll be fine. But it's probably better if
you drive this afternoon."

Don't need to flicker in the middle of what
looks like will be a serious conversation.

*****

The rest of the day drags—one more reason I
don't want to flicker after school, especially on a Friday—and I'm
already on my feet when the bell sounds.

Amelia's waiting at my locker. "You still
coming over tonight?"

I shove my books in my bag and slip into my
jacket. "Cam asked me to go for a drive." She raises an eyebrow and
I hold my hands up in mock surrender. "I have no idea. I'm guessing
he wants to talk about his sister."

"Then you definitely have to come over
tonight. Besides, we need to plot how I can get Trace to notice
me." Her eyes drift down the hall to where Trace's locker is. He
has a game tonight and so is most likely already on a bus to
whatever high school they're playing, but that doesn't stop her
from looking for him.

"Have you talked to him?" Amelia is shy when
it comes to meeting people, but once you get her talking it's
impossible not to love her.

"I've smiled at him a couple times but he's
always with a group of friends. I can't go up to him unless he's by
himself."

I remember the list of games from photo
class. I could do a feature on a player. And I'll need an
assistant. "I might be able to help you there." She opens her mouth
but I step backwards and laugh before she can ask. "I'll tell you
about it tonight. Just have the popcorn ready."

*****

Cameron's car is easy to spot, and not
because the parking lot is half empty by the time I get there—he’s
the only student brave enough to drive an orange car. He's not
there yet so I climb onto Old Berta's hood and watch the leaves
dance over the faded yellow lines.

This sudden shift in the way I'm reacting to
him has me off-balance. It's hard to miss the fact that he's hot.
Besides his perfect arms and perfect hair, he's got long legs and
strong hands and—

Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me? It's
never been like that between us. Cameron's been in my life since we
were kids. We're Cam and Biz. Friends. Nothing more.

"You look like you're arguing with yourself
in your head."

I look up in surprise, my hands still waving
in front of me, and my stomach flips. Cameron's standing a couple
feet in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest and a full
smile spread across his face. Oh yeah, he's got a killer smile,
too.

"What's got you so worked up?"

"Worked up?" My voice squeaks and I
blush.
Stop it! It's just
Cameron.

He cocks his head, pausing a beat before
unlocking the passenger door. "I know we're here because I want to
talk, but is there something you need to talk about?" His
expression grows serious and he touches my arm. Electricity zings
to my elbow.

I glance at his fingers resting
lightly on my sleeve. Watch as he fingers the fabric. My mouth
suddenly goes dry.
What was the
question?

"Biz?" he says, lowering his head until he's
looking close into my eyes. "Are you okay? Is your headache that
bad?"

I shake my head, wincing at the stabbing
pains that protest the sudden movement. "No, sorry. I just lost my
train of thought for a second." I move past him and climb into the
car. Flashing a smile, I try to play off whatever the hell is going
on inside me.

He pushes the door closed and lopes around
to the driver's side.

Once we're on the road I force a couple deep
breaths and risk a peek at Cam.

One hand is perched on the top of the
steering wheel, the other on the gearshift—one more thing on the
hotness meter—and he's watching me out of the corner of his eye. "I
thought you were gonna pass out. Should I just take you home?"

I've passed out on him before, so it's a
fair question. I slap my cheeks and roll my shoulders, making him
laugh. "Nope, I'm good to go. No passing out here."

He smiles again, and his dimple winks at me.
"Good."

We drive in silence until we reach the boat
ramp near his house. A lot of kids party here at night, but right
now it's deserted. He kills the engine but doesn't move.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say
something or just wait him out. This uncertainty around Cameron is
new to me and I feel like saying the wrong thing would undo
whatever seems to be going on. After what feels like eons I open my
mouth to speak, but snap it closed when he releases the steering
wheel and folds his hands behind his head.

But he still doesn't say anything.

Can I get a clue for $200,
Alex?

Cam exhales and leans his head against the
seat so he’s facing the top of the car.

"Cam?" My nervousness fades, replaced by my
earlier concern. "If you don't want to talk about it, we can just
hang out here. Or do you wanna go sit by the water?"

He lowers his gaze and stares out at the
lake. Ripples break the surface, sending flashes of light bouncing
into my skull. "Yeah."

We slam the doors behind us and crunch over
the gravel towards the water's edge.

He touches my jacket then glances down at
his bare arms, as if realizing for the first time that he wasn't
wearing a coat. "I think I have a blanket in the trunk. Hold
on."

And the butterflies are back.

"Sorry for dragging you all the way out here
to talk." Cam spreads out the blanket and I sit on one side. He
leans back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of
him.

"You know you don't need to apologize to
me." I pull my knees tightly against my chest and wrap my arms
around them. Whatever has shifted inside me seems to have a mind of
its own and I don't want to risk doing something stupid when Cam
clearly just wants to talk.

"You've probably figured out that this whole
kidnapping thing is hitting me hard."

So that
is
what this is about. But being right doesn't
make me feel as good as it normally does. Instead I feel
worse.

"I don't know if it's the fact that they're
the same age, or what, but I haven't been able to think of anything
but Katie since yesterday." His voice breaks when he says his
little sister's name.

I fight the urge to touch him, to comfort
him somehow. "I've been thinking about her too."

He faces me. "You have?"

"Well yeah. It'd be impossible not to. I
remember how awful it was. I've been worried about how this was
affecting you."

His lips tighten in a firm line and he
stares straight ahead at the water.

I really don't want to make him cry, but I
can't exactly change the topic. "What have your parents said?"

"Not much. It's been really quiet at home,
like we're all afraid to say her name."

"You shouldn't have to do that."

"What else are we supposed to do? It's not
like we have a grave we can visit when we're feeling sad. My mom
finally put away her toys and stuff but her room is still her
room." He leans forward and pulls his legs towards his body. "It's
like we're still waiting for her to come home."

I want to ask if the police have contacted
him, but I’m afraid to go there. Instead I let my hand drift
towards his. We've never actually held hands before, but I don't
know what else to do.

His head jerks towards me, then his eyes
drop to our hands. He doesn't move for several seconds. I'm about
to pull away when he laces his fingers through mine. His warmth
seeps through my skin and it's as if he's heating my entire body
through the palm of my hand.

"Can I do anything?"

His other hand covers mine and the hurt
lifts from his eyes. "You being here is all I wanted."

I can't tear my eyes away from his
mouth.
How have I never noticed his lips
before?
The fact that he's sitting much closer than he
normally does and for the first time in a long time we're both
single might have something to do with it. Not that he's thinking
about that right now. I close my eyes, still not quite believing
Cam is the one holding my hand and making me want to be kissed more
than I ever have before.

A car horn blasts in the parking lot and we
both jump. Embarrassed, I pull my hand from his, but Cameron seems
unaware of what I'm thinking and continues to watch the river in
silence.

Laughter erupts behind us as a group of our
classmates get out of the car. "Sorry to interrupt!" one of them
shouts, and more giggles follow.

Cam shakes his head. "Do you want to get out
of here?"

"Only if you do. It'll be hard to talk with
them right there." Even though talking is hardly what I'd like to
be doing. And that definitely can't be done with them ten feet
away.

Cam answers me by standing. He holds out a
hand to help me up.

I slip my hand into his and I get another
jolt.

He pulls me to my feet. "What are you doing
later?"

"Going to Amelia's to watch
movies."
And talk about you.
He drops my hand to pick up the blanket and I start walking
to the car. I'd rather stay with him, but considering how well I
seem to be doing with guys lately, maybe it's better that nothing
actually happened. I'd hate to jeopardize our friendship for a
quick make-out session.

If only I believed that.

*****

Cam turns on his mp3 player and the
latest FloMo song
fills the car.

I cast a sidelong look at him. He knows
she’s my favorite singer, but did he play it on purpose or was that
just what came next in his playlist? And why am I suddenly so
obsessed over this? An exasperated sigh rushes past my lips. It's
pretty bad when you're annoying yourself.

Cam seems unaffected by whatever happened at
the lake. Maybe it's all in my head. I know he's thinking about his
sister, and I'm a little jealous that he can turn off those
emotions so easily. Not that I'm envious of what he's thinking
about.

Okay, seriously. I need to just shut up.

"You're doing it again."

My head whips at him. "Doing what?"

"Arguing with yourself."

I blush.

"Are you going to tell me what's you're so
frustrated about?"

I think fast. "Just our assignment for
class. I figure I'll go to the football game next week, and
probably a soccer game with Amelia, but I'm not sure about the
third." I rub my hands over my thighs to dry the sweat that's
suddenly seeping from every pore in my body. "What ones are you
going to?"

"Probably football. And maybe soccer." My
stomach flips. "Do you want to go to the third one together?"

I smile. "You mean once we know which one it
is?"

He slows as the car in front of us makes a
turn. "I figure track'll be easy."

Dammit!
I
wasn't paying attention to where we're going and now we're
practically to the Strand. I close my eyes and hope he doesn't
notice.

"Plus we can probably get pretty close to
the runners. Not like with the sports that play on a field."

My hand slides over my eyes and I force a
deep breath. Nothing's tingling, but freaking myself out makes it
hard to tell if I'm going to flicker.

"I think there's a meet on Tuesday."

I don't want to, but I lean forward. Cam
wouldn't know if I flicker, and it wouldn't be all bad to repeat
today, but I don't want this moment to end. We'll be past it in
another minute, then everything will be fine.

"Biz?"

Crap.

"What the hell? Why didn't you tell me?" His
hand is so light on the back of my head I can hardly tell he's
touching me. The car slows and I sit up straight.

"No, don't stop. I'll be fine in a
minute."

"How can you be fine in a minute? I'm
pulling over."

Stopping in the Strand doesn't mean I'll
automatically flicker. When we're stopped it's just like being
anyplace else. But eventually we'll have to start up again.

Gravel crunches as the car rolls to a stop.
I open my eyes and take a quick breath. Cam is leaning close, his
dark eyes just inches from mine.

This probably wouldn't be the best time to
kiss him.

"You're freaking me out. Are you sure you
don't need help?"

"Cam, how many times have I told you? My
headaches… they come and go. I know it seems weird but I've learned
to live with them." I will a smile to my lips. My head is ready to
split in two, but I'm not lying about learning to deal with the
headaches. They're a part of my life and I can either hide in my
bedroom or live my life.

His hand lowers to the back of my neck and I
mentally beg him to rub out the knots. Yeah, I was all nerves two
seconds ago, but I become a massage whore when a migraine's got a
hold of me. I don't care who you are; if you'll make the pain go
away—even for a couple minutes—I'll love you forever.

His fingers trace the bumps of my spine, a
gesture that would have turned me into a puddle if I wasn't so
focused on making the pain go away.

"Cam, I'm okay. I swear." I reach up and
place my hand over his, but my telepathy fails and he lowers our
hands until they're resting on the edge of my seat.

"I wish I knew what was going on inside your
head."

You and me both.

He turns my hand over, his thumb rubbing
small circles on the back of my hand. "I guess sitting here doesn't
really do much if you do need help. You sure you just want to go
home?"