AMELIA

At some point when I get hungry, we finally get up, and surprisingly in Cam's trunk, there are extra clothes, even those that fit me comfortably. A baggy t-shirt and over-long joggers. He has to help me roll up the waistband and fold the lower end by the ankle. There are socks too, so I am happily clothed.

Blushing at the sight of my lingerie that he picks together with his damp clothes on the bottom of the rare and transfers them to the trunk, I huddle in the passenger seat, chewing my nails at the thought of last night. My heartbeat races, I stifle the smile, and when he returns, he turns to me and places a hand over my thighs.

"I enjoy every one of these moments with you. Thank you," he says, and having no ability to speak over my overjoyed chest, I nod alone.

He smiles at my reaction and leans over, kissing me. I would like it to continue, but we have to leave. He pulls back, watching me turn crimson.

His hand grabs my legs from the seat, stretching them to him, over his laps.
"You've been curled up since last night, you should loosen up," he thoughtfully suggests, and his other hand massages my foot as he drives away.

When we get back into the city, I suggest a drive-through takeout, but Cam thinks it is healthy to stretch outside the car. He stops at a restaurant. I don't have a shoe but that's not an excuse, yet he picks me up in his arms and waltzes in, embarrassing me while he doesn't give a damn about the sets of eyes staring at us.

All the time I keep my head down. If I could see myself in the mirror, my face would probably be the hue of red.

The server had our food brought up to us in no time and it was hot. I could give the place a good rating for that. I devour mine like a pregnant woman, all the time Cam chuckling at me. But the thing is, when it comes to food when I am hungry, I just don't feel any mortification.

We talk more, and we decide on getting my things tomorrow after school from Isaac's place and then sharing Cam's room, since there's no way I will stay in that disgusting room I used to share with Jake. Cam says he has a massive closet space, but his things barely take up half of it. It will be enough for the two of us. He says I could redecorate the room; I could choose a new paint and a bigger bed. He says we could do that to the whole house too, but I sincerely think we should do that gradually. The house is perfect anyway.

Leaving the restaurant, I insist on walking out myself, not that he is happy with it, but he agrees.

He drives towards the house that I can now call home, and all the time I think, 'How fast do our plans change?'

If you told me some months ago that I would be in Portland with someone else that's not Jake, and would be excited about the situation, I would have flipped a middle finger at you, but look how it all turned out.

Parking in the driveway that last night was jammed with cars, we stepped out. Cam is on the phone with Alex; he grabs my hand in this, and we head up to the door.

My eyes find my artful work on the wall, right there next to the door. Not my proudest hour, but in my defense, he was an asshole at the time.

"We will get this off," I mouth with heat in my cheeks, and Cam chuckles, kissing my hair.

He unlocks the front door, ending the call at the same time, and we step inside. The house inside is neat as if a cleaning service has just been here.

"What happened?" I ask, and he sighs.

"The boys are here," he answers, and my eyes widen.

"Oh."

"They are going to ask so many questions. If you don't want to, you don't have to. I will handle them, okay?" He nods reassuringly when I hesitate, and I nod, exhaling.

He smiles, gently pinching my cheek for support, and grabs my hand again, guiding me to the living area.

"There they are," Garrett utters from the couch, stretching his limbs. He's sprawling there with a blanket over him, watching a fight.

Oh, please.
My eyes roll.

"Who's that?" Cam asks intrigued, his eyes finding the TV.

"Alexander Volkanovski," Garrett answers as Layton appears from the kitchen with a plate of dessert and a glass cup of juice.

"Hey man, Amy!" He greets us nicely and plunges into the seat.

"So, tell us, guys." Garrett sits up, "What the hell?" he exclaims, and my heart thuds in its cage.

Cam shoots them a warning glare and looks over to me, saying, "You can go if you don't want to stay." He might have noticed my discomfort and I appreciate that.

I nod in agreement and let go of his hands, turning for the hallway, but I don't leave; I lean against the wall, eavesdropping on what they have to say about Cam and me.

"Seriously, bro. What the hell? Did you think of Jake?" Layton says.

"He's not worthy of her. They're over," Cam reluctantly defends.

"How did you know? Or did you break them up?" Layton queries.

"You slept with the girl?" Garrett accuses, not that it's not true.

"He's a cheat," Cam retorts angrily. "Stop with the accusations over me. I am not the only bad guy in the universe."

"So you took the chance and what?" Garrett retaliates. I do not like his tone.

"You dating her?" Layton gasps.

"I don't know," Cam exclaims at them.

"You? You dating?" Layton scoffs.

"I-we didn't put a label yet."

"Look, man, I hope you know what this is gonna stir," says Garrett, and I swallow, feeling a lump in my throat.

What are they talking about?

"It could stir a fucking third world war. As far as I know, she's who I need. I don't give a damn, man. If you're gonna be against me, get out," Cam grumbles, sounding pissed off.

"Dude, chill."

"She's got you mad. You in love or something," Layton says.

"Seriously, get out."

"Look, man. For real, I just want you happy, and if you are, that's good. I am happy for you," Garrett says. "But just make sure to keep an eye on Amy because you might be fine with what's coming, but she won't be. This is something she will find new to her."

Cam is extremely quiet after those words are stated, and I wonder what that means.