by Riley Rivers
Still, shivering, he made it over to campus. From there it was the usual routine—just coupled with the excitement of knowing that soon he’d have a break again. He was sorry to say goodbye to the class though. He truly had enjoyed it, for what he was able to focus on. And he was proud of some of the things the class had inspired him to make.
A short break, wherein he went back to his car to grab some food, then he commandeered a lab to hole up in. Not even because he had anything in particular he needed to edit, but because it was a warm place with a door that shut. He was forever grateful for the 24-hour library, but god there was something to be said for true privacy.
He got through the rest of the week that way, knocking out his finals and presentations one by one.
At 3:30 pm on Thursday, Cameron walked out of his Survey final a free man. All he had to do now was wait for grades to come in and try not to stress about it in the meantime. He already had a pretty good idea of what classes he would be signing up for for the Winter semester, thanks to meetings with the counselor's office, so until it was time to wake up at 7 am to try to get into the ones he wanted, the next three weeks were blissfully school-free.
And, while they would be full of work, it was work he both enjoyed and looked forward to.
Wow.
Cameron leaned against the wall in his building, hands shoved in his pockets, trying to figure out what to do next. He didn’t often have the luxury of free time like this. It was Thursday now, but he didn’t have an evening class to rush to or a night shift to get ready for. He didn’t even have homework or studying to do. He… had time.
He could go to the library, he supposed. Or maybe a lab? Grab some sleep somewhere warm. Even with his sleeping bag and coat, it was still pretty cold at night, now.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time, belatedly remembering that he’d turned it off for his final so it wouldn’t distract him.
He turned it on now, and couldn’t help the rush of pleased surprise to find that Ezra had texted him.
Reading the message didn’t stop the pleased feeling at all. Congrats on finishing another semester! Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.
Cameron read the message several times. It was short but… he hadn’t ever had someone to be proud of him for an accomplishment. Teachers maybe, yeah, but that was their job, kinda. Ezra hadn’t had to reach out to say that stuff, but he had anyway.
Ezra was just being nice but… he was being nice.
Cameron read the message one more time before taking a deep breath and putting his phone to sleep. He knew that he was already in a little bit over his head, with Ezra. He was working for the guy and, yeah, Ezra was fucking nice, and kind, and… stupidly attractive and—
That was exactly the problem.
Nursing a crush on his boss wasn’t the absolute worst thing in the world, but Cameron didn’t at all want to do something that could jeopardize his time with Ezra. It was one thing for a man like Ezra to hire him on and give him a chance. He gave Cameron his precious time and attention and paid him on top of it—fed him on top of that, even, which was a kindness Cameron wasn’t going to forget for as long as he lived.
But if Ezra found out his intern—and a guy half his age to boot—was into him? He might legit fire Cameron for that. Ezra seemed like the type of person to have those sorts of morals. He wouldn’t want to fire Cameron, necessarily. Might even apologize for it as Ezra let him down gently. I wish I didn’t have to do this, I’m sorry. And then Cameron would be out of the best job ever and wouldn’t get to see Ezra again. Those were things he didn’t want to lose.
Cameron was still figuring out where he stood, with Ezra. Ezra was incessantly kind without seeming to want anything from Cameron except for him to do his work well and to succeed. Cameron didn’t know yet what the boundaries were in terms of not overstepping.
At least Ezra hadn’t noticed anything so far. Cameron just had to figure out how to keep it that way.
Chapter Eight
“Good morning,” Ezra said with a smile when Cameron walked into the studio on Friday.
Cameron blinked at him. “Oh—morning.” He was surprised to see Ezra there, leaning against the kitchen counter. Usually Cameron walked into an empty studio space, and Ezra mosied in a few minutes after Cameron arrived, asking Cameron if he’d made himself coffee yet. Not if Cameron had made Ezra coffee—Ezra wanted Cameron to enjoy a hot beverage of his choice, if he so desired.
It always made Cameron feel warmer than the coffee itself.
“Congratulations again on finishing the semester,” Ezra said as Cameron pulled off his gloves and coat. “How do you feel?”
“Pretty good,” Cameron said honestly. “It’s a relief, you know? Not that I don’t want to be in school or learning or anything! It’s just… it can be a lot.”
“Going to school full time while working third shift and an internship on top of that would take it out of the best of people,” Ezra said mildly.
Cameron flushed. “It’s not too bad. I just get tired.”
“Completely understandable. I look forward to the next few weeks with you, where you’ll hopefully be less tired.”
The words didn’t help Cameron’s flush. “If I—if I wasn’t doing good work—”
Ezra shook his head. “Not at all, and I’m glad to have you around more. But I know what it’s like to work long days or weeks or months. It drains you. I’m glad you’ll have a break from that.”
Cameron nodded dumbly.
“Now then,” Ezra said, rubbing his hands together. “The morning is mostly chores for you, I’m afraid. I have a bunch of homewares I need you to return.”
“Homewares?”
Ezra pointed to the table currently standing in the middle of the studio, which was stacked high with plates, cups, bowls, placemats, and table runners, along with piles of newspaper and bags and boxes. “Props from a shoot yesterday that didn’t end up being used.”
“Oh,” Cameron said, taking it all in, eyes wide. There was so much stuff.
“I need you to package everything up and take it back to Crate and Barrel.” Ezra gave him an apologetic look. “Not exactly glamorous, but—”
“No, no, that’s fine. It needs to get done, I’ll do it.” Cameron grinned. “Good at picking up heavy stuff, remember?”
“It’s not even close to the only thing you’re good at,” Ezra said, rolling his eyes. Before Cameron could figure out a response to that, Ezra added, “Please make multiple trips into and out of the store.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about that,” Cameron said, glancing at the pile on the table. He was pretty strong, but there was no way he’d be able to carry even half of all that at once. Not to mention he’d be terrified of dropping something and breaking it. This was four or five trips from the store to his car at least. “Okay, I’ll get started right away.”
“Thank you. Let me know if you need anything.” Ezra gave him another smile and a nod, then headed over to his desk and monitor on the other side of the room.
Cameron looked back at the pile on the table. “Right,” he muttered to himself. “Okay.”
It was actually kind of fun, in a weird, slightly mind-numbing way. Some of the dishware had come in boxes, so before Cameron could start wrapping anything in paper he had to figure out which things went with which packaging. Then it was a matter of carefully wrapping everything up and filling the boxes and bags.
Ezra tried to offer to help carry everything out to Cameron’s car once Cameron was done, but Cameron politely refused. He kept his car pretty neat, all things considered, what with living in it, but he didn’t want Ezra to get a closer look if Cameron could avoid it. Luckily, since that was where he slept, Cameron kept his trunk pretty empty, so it wasn’t too hard to make all the home goods and stuff fit, once he’d carted it all outside.
“Okay,” Cameron said when he was finally all done. “I’m all set. Is there anything else you need before I go?”
&n
bsp; “Oh yeah, just one thing.” Ezra held something out for Cameron to take.
Cameron came closer to find that Ezra was holding out a credit card. He took it. “For the returns?”
“Right. And fill your tank on the way back here, please. Compensation for the roundtrip.”
“But you… you pay me,” Cameron said, unsure.
Ezra raised an eyebrow. “I pay you to come here to work, or accompany me when I go out to jobs. If you’re using your own car for anything else, I cover mileage.”
“Oh.” Cameron didn’t remember that being part of what they’d talked about. But maybe it was typical? He’d never had a job like this before, after all. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Of course.” Ezra turned back to his screen, where he had several different pictures of burger buns blown up. It looked like he was scrutinizing the positioning of the strategically-placed sesame seeds. “Text me if there are any problems.”
“I will,” Cameron promised as he turned toward the door.
***
Cameron had been nervous about going to return such a large amount of items, but luckily the returns went off without a hitch. The sales associate had asked if Cameron was a real estate agent for some reason, but Cameron had just stuttered out that he was interning for someone who hadn’t been able to use the stuff. Being in a store where a single salad plate cost like ten dollars made him nervous.
As promised, he filled his tank on the way back to Ezra’s place, feeling a little relieved that it was only about a quarter tank. Cameron wasn’t the sort of guy who had the privilege of looking a gift horse in the mouth, but something about Ezra struck him as too generous. Like there would come a moment when Ezra would wake up and realize he’d been treating Cameron to all this food, and now gas, on top of paying him and paying well. That or he’d get sick of Cameron being around and needing all this stuff and regret that he’d hired Cameron on in the first place.
He wasn’t entirely sure what would happen if that actually occurred, but he also didn’t feel like trying to find out, by being selfish.
He drove back to the studio and parked in his usual place. By now it felt a little less surreal to punch in the door code and walk inside.
Ezra swiveled his chair to greet him as Cameron walked in. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t take off the coat yet,” Ezra said. His smile turned a little mischievous. It was a good look. Cameron’s stomach flip-flopped.
Cameron paused in pulling off his gloves. “Oh, okay. Are we going out?”
“Yep.”
“Oh,” he said again. “Okay.” Maybe Ezra had gotten a job while Cameron was out? “Do you need me to pack up any equipment?”
Ezra shook his head. “No, we’re all set.”
“Oh.” He felt stupid, sounding like a broken record. “Okay, sure.” As Ezra got up, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair, Cameron hurriedly added, “If it was a rush, I could have come right back, instead of filling my tank.”
“No rush,” Ezra said as he pulled on his coat before motioning Cameron back toward the door. Cameron obediently walked back outside, Ezra following right behind him.
“My car,” Ezra said, so close to Cameron that Cameron could almost imagine feeling the heat of his body.
“Not the van?”
“Nope. Come on.”
Well, that made sense. If Cameron didn’t need to help pack or load anything up, Ezra was probably using a smaller equipment kit.
“Did returning everything go alright?” Ezra asked, as Cameron was buckling his seat belt. “No one gave you any trouble?”
“No, it went fine. Oh, but I have the return receipt for you.” He squirmed around to dig into his jeans pocket, pulling out the long, many-times folded receipt, as well as the credit card and the receipt for the gas.
“Perfect. Just hold onto all that for me until we get back, okay?”
“Oh, yeah, right. Of course.” He stuffed the receipts and the card back into his pocket. “Where are we going?
Ezra grinned at him. “The Whistle Stop Diner. Have you heard of it?”
Cameron shook his head.
“It’s in Pleasant Ridge. They have a location in Birmingham too, but Pleasant Ridge is a little closer. And better parking.” He winked. “They do all sorts of homestyle cooking, but I’m particularly fond of their pancakes. They’re one of those places only open ’til three every day. But they’re very good. Often very crowded too, even on the weekdays, but I called ahead.”
Cameron shivered. Ezra’s car had yet to warm up. “O-okay.” Called ahead?
Ezra glanced at him and turned up the heater. “How did your final presentation for Focus Photography go?”
“Oh!” Cameron grinned. It was something he was excited to talk about, even more so because Ezra would probably understand. So he did his best to tuck away the uncertainty. He needed to get over being starstruck eventually, right? “I did some more follow-ups on my faerie tale.”
The conversation easily lasted through the drive over to the Whistle Stop. Ezra always seemed genuinely interested in Cameron’s projects, and he asked questions and made comments that had Cameron talking even more. It was almost scary how easy it was, in the end, to talk to Ezra. Cameron didn’t just talk to that many people. He made small talk with his coworkers, but all of them were tired and busy, keeping their heads down while they worked. He made the same sort of small talk with his classmates, but he also had a hard time relating to them. Being closer to twenty-three, he was one of the ones on the older side in his program, since he had started a little late. Most of his classmates were nineteen or twenty-year-old kids.
He knew logically that it wasn’t really that much of an age difference, and yeah, of course Cameron was sure they had their own struggles and everything. But he didn’t know how to talk about stuff like most modern media, or restaurants, or the game, or… whatever it was that most people talked about.
Cameron lived and breathed photography. It was a hobby and hopefully a future career that he was passionate about, but he simply didn’t have time (or money) for other things. On top of that, he often got the feeling that his interest in photography was too intense for other people. Besides, Cameron didn’t linger at work or school to chat. He went from class to job and back again, and it was all he could do to keep his head above water while he did so. Socializing simply wasn’t something that worked into his schedule. He always told himself it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t much for it anyway. He was used to being alone.
But talking with Ezra… it was weird to know that simply having a conversation with someone was something Cameron had been missing. And that was… it was nice, to be able to share his work and thoughts and interests with someone who understood. Who seemed to care.
***
“I thought we were here for work,” Cameron said, confused, when Ezra gave his name to the hostess and she led them to a table. The Whistle Stop was indeed bustling, and it smelled delicious. The table was a little one in the back, and seemed to be the only one free. Cameron sat down in the seat across from Ezra at Ezra’s prompting, and startled a little when Ezra sat down too and their legs knocked together underneath the table.
“We’re technically here for work,” Ezra said, amusement clear in his voice. The mischievous glint in his eyes was back. “It’s a working lunch, rather. We’ll have a nice lunch and talk shop. I’ll fill you in on what the next few weeks will look like, et cetera. Things like that.”
“Oh,” Cameron said. That… made sense. Kinda? But… “Usually you, uh, you have me pick something up to eat in the studio.” As soon as he said it, he felt stupid. It hadn’t even been two full months since he’d worked for Ezra yet. Nine Fridays exactly. Of those nine Fridays, there had been two studio shoots, both of which were catered, and two restaurant days, where they had indeed eaten out in between driving from location to location. Five times certainly wasn’t a pattern to set your watch by. Maybe Ezra just liked to
get out. Maybe he usually did during the week. Why was Cameron even questioning it?
Ezra nodded. “Yeah, for the most part, if we’re not out and about on a job, we’ll eat in the studio. But today’s special.”
“How come?”
“We’re celebrating you being done with finals,” Ezra said, in the nonchalant way that made it obvious he had no idea how much his words immediately affected Cameron.
“We’re… we are?” Cameron asked.
“Of course.”
But why? Cameron knew his face had to be doing something complicated, because Ezra smiled in that fucking soft way of his. “It’s a big deal, getting through a semester. You deserve a bit of a celebration, you know? A treat. I got the feeling that’s not something you often give yourself, and, well, I did need to discuss all this with you. So it might as well be in a nice little diner.”
Cameron’s hands were shaking. Why were they shaking? “Oh,” he whispered.
Ezra looked at him, tilting his head. Cameron felt very seen. Ezra made him feel like that a lot. “Have I overstepped?”
“What? No! No, no, I…” I haven’t had anyone be this nice to me in years. I haven’t had anyone look at me in years. I’ve never had anyone want to celebrate something like this, because I’ve never… had anyone. “You’re, um, you’re right. I-I wouldn’t have thought to go out or anything. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ezra said, just as their waitress came by with the menus.
***
Cameron woke up Saturday morning at nine, luxuriating in having had another night’s sleep that didn’t start at dawn. He barely knew what it would be like to be on more of a “normal” person’s schedule for the next three weeks, but god was he not complaining.
