The Vista High lunch arrangement is one straight out of Mean Girls. You know the scene. The one where every lunch table has a label? Yeah, that's us. The band crew take up the left corner, a good half of them with their instrument of choice either being played or strapped to their side.

Beside them is the drama crew, followed by the more artistic crowd. There are a few tables consisting of a mixture of stereotypical profiles, and then there are the athletes—the primary makeup of the space.

The two tables beside the kitchen are full of my teammates and the guys' soccer team. It's the very section I've been actively avoiding for the last few weeks. Finding excuses to stay away has been surprisingly easy. Most of the time it's as simple as adding extra drills on the field during lunch or joining study hall to get some homework done.

Today is different, though.

Case in point, the muscular pair of arms that just wrapped themselves around my shoulders. Cam's firm chest presses against my back, that clean soapy smell that he always seems to possess surrounds me. It's like he's always fresh out of the shower at all moments. It's oddly soothing.

"How were your classes this morning?" he casually asks, the warmth of his breath feathering across my neck as he leans his head down to place a soft kiss against my shoulder.

He is strangely good at the boyfriend thing. For a guy who has never actually been one, he knows what the hell he's doing and I'm not the only one taking note. I am the only one still acting like the pair of arms wrapped around me shouldn't be there, though.

But this is Camden. His arms aren't supposed to be tugging me tightly to his chest and his lips sure as hell aren't supposed to be grazing the exposed skin along my neck. We aren't supposed to be holding hands in the hall as he walks me to class or gathering the attention of the entire cafeteria of students.

"Is this too much for you?" he whispers into my ear before I've had a chance to answer his first question. His hands loosen around me, his fingers suddenly trailing mine along the lunch tray in my hands.

It's not until the palm of his hand runs along the back of mine that I realize just how tightly I'm clinging to this damn tray.

I shift, letting my eyes lift to the cafeteria full of onlookers. People are watching our every move, just as they did this morning. There's no turning back now, and if I'm going to make this believable and manage not to become the laughing stalk of the entire school, then I have to play my part.

"No," I whisper back, leaning into his chest and resting my head against his shoulder. "Classes were good. I had lit this morning, which is always a good start. How about you?"

"Good." He smiles against me, bringing his hand back across my chest and hugging me against him. "You're eating with me today, right?"

He takes a step away, reaching for the tray in my hands at the same time he slides my backpack from my shoulder, throwing it over his own. My heart lurches in my chest, a hopeful dance as the realization that I don't have to sit at my usual table takes over me. It's not that I don't enjoy the company of my team, but sitting there means sitting with Adam and Brittney, which happens to be a front row seat to their canoodling fest.

"Yeah, of course." I nod, smiling up at him before I follow his lead back to the table smack dab in the middle of the cafeteria.

He sets my tray down on the table, pulling out two chairs. The table is already full, lines on both sides with a mixture of baseball players and fangirls and a spattering of cheerleaders.

"Mini Cooper!" Apollo, Vista's starting shortstop, shouts from across the table. It's been my name for the majority of the baseball team ever since I entered high school and my brother let everyone know I was his little sister. I lift my nervous gaze, connecting with one of the brightest smiles as he raises his arms up into the air. "Welcome to the spotlight. You're long overdue."

"Damn straight!" Gio, their right fielder, slaps a hand on the table as he pipes in. "You've always been welcome here, Mack."

Cam's hand finds my knee beneath the table, offering a gentle squeeze as the embarrassment floods my cheeks. I hate attention. Something I've been avoiding ever since I became the girl who lost her mom. I don't like the labels that attempt to define me.

Just yesterday I was the girl who got cheated on. And now? Now I'm the girl that's got Cam tied down to one place.

"Thank you," I say quietly, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears.

"How's your brother doing?" Donovan asks, leaning forward from beside Apollo. Donovan has been the number two catcher for the last three years, waiting year after year for his shot. Unfortunately for him, he was second to my brother, which meant his shot at starting was slim to none.

Cam's hand quickly falls from my leg, lifting to run across the back of his neck before he lets it drop to his lap. I shift slightly, reaching for a fry and popping it in my mouth. "He's good. He said the schedule is insane, and he's still adjusting to it all, but he's not complaining."

"Shit," Apollo says, leaning back in his chair. "I miss his flashy ass dancing in our dugout, but I'm glad he made it. Gives us hope we'll be there, too."

Without a beat of hesitation, I add, "You will be."

"I like her." He claps his hands together, turning his attention to Cam. "Don't screw it up, Ace."

I don't know the thoughts running through Cam's head right now. What I do know is he's lost that over dramatic acting skill, the one he had just a minute ago when he felt the need to have his hands somewhere on me.

Before he has a chance to form any piece of a response, a wave of platinum hair falls into view. "Hey, Camden," a soft voice joins the table. "I missed you this weekend."

The table falls eerily quiet, and I can't help but take note of every wide eyed glance popping from Cam to me to the girl who's now nestled on the other side of him. Apollo takes a large bite of his burger, his eyes widening as he nudges Donovan.

I lean forward just enough to see a manicured hand along Cam's arm. Porcia Reynolds. Vista High's head cheerleader and Cam's go-to hookup girl, at least, those are the words Jare used to use.

"I was busy," he replies, turning her direction. That pit digs into my stomach, the one reminding me why this was a bad idea. It hasn't even been a day and he's already entertaining the likes of his fan club. The worst part is, I can't even blame him. She's gorgeous.

I can see it now...the girl who can't keep guys interested. Before I can spiral any further, I feel someone wedge their way beside me, sliding into the half open seat along the bench.

"Don't let her get to you," I hear a quiet voice lean in, surprised to see Raya now place her tray on the table beside mine. Raya is the only girl my brother has dated that I didn't dislike. Let me clarify, she's the only girl he's dated who actually gave me the time of day as being someone other than Jared Cooper's little sister. "She's trying to rattle you right now. Don't let her win."

So much easier said than done, especially when this whole thing is one giant lie. But before I can even muster up a response, Cam's hand slides into mine, his fingers lacing between my own when he pulls my hand into his lap. "Porcia, have you met my girlfriend? This is Mackenzie."

Her brows raise as she leans her head to the side to get a better view. The weight of the entire table staring open-jawed in our direction has my cheeks up in flames.

"Your girlfriend?" Porcia questions, bringing her eyes back to Cam. "Isn't she Jared's little sister?"

An annoyed laugh leaves Raya beside me, and I can feel the eye roll she takes without having to look over at her. Don't let her win. Her advice from only seconds ago is still dancing around my head.

"I am," I speak up, ignoring the judgment behind Porcia's tone. "Sorry I kept him busy this weekend. Did you two have plans?" The words tumble from my mouth on a wave of foreign confidence. Despite the sour taste of the lie, the question is pure. I don't attach a single ounce of bitchy innuendo, although I probably could have added a dash of jealous, possessive girlfriend.

When Apollo coughs across the table, though, covering his mouth and watching like a desperate housewife, I start to question just how aggressive my words might have come off.

"He was with you?" she asks, those perfectly tweezed brows of hers still lifted in shock.

Thing is, I don't know where Cam was this weekend, and that fact is suddenly dawning on me. He could have been with any one of these guys at the table or maybe even hooking up with any of the girls in attendance. The fact I just declared he was with me has provided a very plausible ripple in this woven disaster of a facade.

"I was," Cam jumps in, squeezing his hand in mine. Relief floods over me. I still haven't a clue what he did this weekend, but I can only hope whatever it was, he wasn't with anyone at this table. "I'm sorry I missed your party. Maybe Kenze and I will catch the next one."

"Right," Porcia draws out the word, the annoyance painfully clear in her voice.

Without so much as an acknowledgement in my direction, she turns away, starting a conversation with the other half of the table.

The rest of lunch is a jumble of stories that Apollo can't seem to stop rolling out. He's theatric to say the least. I knew he was a goofball, especially when the guys would come over to hang with Jare, but I didn't know how much he craved the center of attention. Being in the middle of the dynamic, I'm beginning to see a whole other side to Cam.

He's confident, but not in the cocky way I've always assumed or that he's always shrugged off in my direction. But the way he sits back, the way everyone looks to him to make sure their joke landed, the way they nod his direction or ask what he thinks, paints a picture of something I don't think I've ever stopped long enough to see.

They look up to him. They care what he thinks. Maybe it's all some hierarchy of popularity, but he's a leader, and I don't know if he's even aware he's wearing the crown.

"Can I walk you to class?" Cam whispers, leaning in closer when the bell rings across the cafeteria.

"Yeah." I nod, keeping my fingers laced in his as we walk down the hall together.

Eyes follow as we make our way past the lockers. We don't say much, Cam's eyes trained on the destination, surely unaware of how many people are watching our every step. It has me wondering if this is really that different from his everyday life.

When we pull up in front of my economics class, Cam turns to face me, pulling me in for a hug and placing a kiss against my forehead. I appreciate the way he's continued to show PDA without crossing the boundary of Awkward City at all turns.

"See you after school," he says, pulling his hand from mine and taking a step back.

Before he can leave, I call after him, "Hey, Cam?"

He turns, his brow raised. "Yeah?"

I take a small step forward, closing the space between us. "What were you really doing this weekend?"

His eyes bounce between mine, that gentle brush of green shining surprisingly bright under the hall lights. "Hanging out with my uncle before he left town for work." He shrugs so casually, that natural wave of confidence flows off of him.

I nod, understanding everything that's falling into place, revealing all the false assumptions I've made about the boy in front of me.

Maybe he's not the cocky, arrogant boy who cares more about the next party than the things that truly matter. Maybe, just maybe, he's still the boy who I found sitting on a bench, aching to have something back that he never will.