by Jack Parker
I didn't want to be angry, but I couldn't help it. No matter how much I liked him, or how much I pretended I didn't, he had said something about me. I know he did. I was embarrassed, I didn't need pity, and I didn't want it.
"I'm fine." I gritted my teeth, and took a deep breath. "Why would you tell them?"
He frowned, "What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about, almost the whole school is suddenly nicer to me, right after I… I… got upset." I made myself look him in the eye, I wasn't weak, he just happened to catch me at a low point in my life.
"I didn't tell anyone…" He reached out to me but I backed away. "Heidi you can trust me. If something is wrong you can talk to me about it."
I felt the blood rush to my head in anger. "I'm not a head case. I don't need a shrink. And I wish you wouldn't have said anything-"
"Heidi", He pleaded, "I didn't tell anyone. I wouldn't do that, it's not who I am. I asked them to lighten up on you, that they were acting ridiculous, that's it. I never realized that moving might be hard for you."
I rolled me eyes and put a hand on my hip. "Moving doesn't bother me. Not knowing-" I immediately shut my mouth.
"Not knowing what?" He asked softly.
I shook my head. "Thank you for you help, but I didn't need it."
He nodded towards my direction. "Alright. I guess I'll just go then."
It pained me a little to watch him leave, and I stubbornly shoved those feelings away. I didn't care about people, I didn't get attached, and I most certainly wasn't going to feel bad about yelling at a guy whose trying to hard to be nice to me. Was I?
I barely slept the entire night, struck between feeling guilty about the way I acted towards someone for what felt like the first time in my life, and being stressed out about the case.
I was curious to know why people liked Camdon so much. All he had to do was say it, and suddenly I was treated with kindness. Just one person having that much influence and power over an entire student body was kind of intimidating. And I thought about what Marcus and Dylan said. No one really knew him. No one could ever really know me. I knew what that was like.
I was restless the entire night. I had been here for over two weeks, what was going on? Why had no one contacted us? As soon as the sun came up, I had already laced up my running shoes, and headed out the door. I inhaled deeply, the chill autumn air filling my lungs, then took off. I ran fast and hard, not paying attention to anything, just trying to forget everything that was going on in my head.
After a half and hour, it seemed to work, I was tired from running, and my mind could no longer concentrate on anything else but the smooth rhythm and pounding of my shoes against the gravel. I felt my leg muscles working, and my breathing increase, as I continued to run with no destination in mind.
A little while later I forced myself to stop and turnaround, dreading school the next day. Iowa was the last place I wanted to be, with its cold environment, uninviting people, and middle-of-no-where feel. I was beginning to get cabin fever, stuck in this place, without any information. What was I to the police force? Put me somewhere on a shelf until they needed me, no kind of thought to what I would be doing, or how I would hate sitting in some town like a lame duck?
All the serenity I had received from running earlier went out the window, and I was frustrated again, angry at anyone I could think of. I was so aggravated I stopped in the middle of an empty street and let out a cry of frustration, and kicked a tree as hard as I could, pouting like some kind of child.
Letting out an angry breath I began to walk back to my house, having no drive to do anything anymore, let alone run. By the time I had reached my street, people were still sleeping, but the morning light had shone over all the houses, looking beautiful, poking in between the trees. I laid down on the front yard of my house, while I reminded myself I would only be here for a little bit longer. No more dealing with this constant paranoia, rude students, or boring town. I would be back in the city, my city.
I was just making a pact to myself that nothing in this town could get to me, when Camdon bounded up the sidewalk in front of where I was laying down.
"Did you run already?" He asked, and I glared at him for forgetting that he was not wanted.
"Yes." I said, not bothering to get up.
"Heidi, about yesterday-"
"Please don't bring that up." I interrupted. "I'm not a pity case, thanks. So you can go and try to impress someone else now."
He sat down next to me, looking at my face. "I don't understand why you don't like me, I didn't do anything. I don't like it."
I got up on my elbows, "Of course you don't like it, you're used to being worshipped. I'm not going to follow you around like a puppy dog just like everyone else. It's the most pathetic thing I've ever seen."
"I'm the most pathetic thing you've ever seen?" He asked, pointing to himself, raising his eyebrows.
"No." I sighed. "It's the way people act around you."
"So you don't like me… because other people like me." Camdon smiled.
"I like you just fine. But I don't know if you know how to be friends with a person." I said honestly, while he shifted closer to me, making my heart race a little.
"I have lots of friends." He grinned, leaning towards me. "Will you be my friend?"
"Only if you can be mine." I wanted to pinch myself, because I swore I wasn't going to like him. But it was almost impossible not to, he was so friendly, and sweet, and he was so good looking, and he made me feel so…wanted.
"How can I prove that to you?" He leaned in a little further, and I lightly pushed him away.
"You can start by stopping that." I missed his presence when he moved away.
"Stopping what?" He genuinely asked.
"I get that I'm interesting, because you've run through all the other girls in this town, but I'm not going to jump on this bandwagon. When I say friends, I mean friends. So say hi to me, and go from there."
"Heidi that's not fair and you know it. People talk, what can I say? And I am trying to be your friend, I mean, I've already been there for you." Camdon's face was filled with honesty.
I shook my head, trying my hardest to suppress all the spiteful things I had to say to him. "Don't mention that. And I was serious Camdon, you can't tell people that I got upset like that. It's not your problem, it's mine, and if I ever find out you did, then our friendship is over."
"I didn't say anything!" He cried defensively. "And I would love to be your friend, if you actually start being nice to me." Camdon got up, sticking his hand out to me.
I took it, and pulled myself up. "I am perfectly nice to you."
He gave me a blank stare. I sighed. "Alright. I will be nicer to you."
That morning happened to be a rough morning for me. All I could do was worry, my thoughts circling in my head over and over, covering all possibilities, no matter how drastic. When I went to school, I pulled open my locker, and grabbed several books, before slamming it closed.
"Good morning." A cheerful voice said next to me.
I turned to see Camdon, loading up books into the locker next to mine. "That's not your locker." I pointed at it dumbly.
"Yeah it is." Camdon smiled, "People usually become better friends when they see each other more often. So this is me, trying to see you more often."
"But this isn't your locker…" I couldn't figure out what he was doing.
Camdon laughed. "Now it is. I asked if I could trade, so now it's mine."
"It's kind of scary that you can do that." At his puzzled look I added, "Just ask for something and get it, even though it's totally inconvenient for the other person."
He shrugged. "Never really thought about it that way." Camdon turned and leaned against his locker, his deep blue eyes searched my face questioningly, "Are you okay? You don't look so good."
At first I was defensive, Anna picked out a really cute outfit for me today, but then I realized how restless I had been, and hadn't thought
it would be that noticeable.
"It's just one of those days…" My voice trailed off, as my mind went back to the day I walked in on Mickey, going over and over again in my head to see if they had said anything I had missed.
"Hmmm." Camdon continued to observe me, and I immediately stiffened.
"Why?" I asked "Is it that noticeable?"
"Probably not." Camdon commented, "I'm just a little more perceptive than most people tend to be." At that, he left, squeezing my shoulder in assurance before walking away.
I watched him leave in puzzlement, and the next couple days, I began to relax around him. Small smiles and jokes made me less and less hostile towards him, and I could tell he was trying to treat me like an equal, instead of like everyone else at the school.
One day, when we decided to go running in the morning, I decided to ask him about it.
"Camdon?" I asked, keeping up with his fast pace.
"Yeah?" He replied, and I made my mind focus, but it was hard when he wasn't wearing a shirt. He caught me admiring and let a loose grin slip across his face as I looked away, embarrassed.
"Why do people at your high school worship you so much? It's a little weird." I blatantly spat out, to cover up my embarrassment at being seen checking him out.
"It's your high school too you know." Camdon reminded me playfully.
I shook my head, feeling my ponytail swinging from side to side, "You know what I'm talking about."
Camdon looked up at the sky, and slowed down his jog to a walk, and I walked next to him. "I think they just really like me. Because I'm interesting."
I smirked. "You're so humble."
He lightly nudged my shoulder, "You know what I mean." He shrugged. "In this place, we've been around each other for ages. But me… my family has a story, and they like to act like they know me, because they want to know how my story ends. If that makes any sense."
"None at all." I said. He looked towards the sky again, and he seemed as if he was trying to stay calm, and repress the surge of emotions that were obviously hitting him, I could see it on his face.
"My mother was really smart, is really smart. As in, genius. In high school, she was brilliant when it came to anything mathematical, and she was already looking at all these schools… the majority of them Ivy League of course, and the thing is, she could have gone. She could have gone and done so well, scholarships and everything, but she found out she was pregnant with me. She was less than fifty points away from a perfect score on her SAT." He added, the admiration he had for his mother plain as day.
"She never told me, of course," He continued, "but she didn't have too. She is stuck in Franklin, Iowa, when she could be doing something fascinating and amazing, and have a large salary, and start having kids now instead of 17 years ago. My mom has a gift, and she's in this dead end life, because she wanted to make sure she had enough support to take care of me."
I kept silent, because he seemed like he wanted to talk. Camdon anxiously cracked his knuckles before speaking, "I'm the reason she has a life she tried so hard to get away from, and people in this messed up town are waiting for me to crack. And I haven't. But that's not good enough."
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
He shrugged. "It's not good enough that I'm a normal person, it's not possible for the gossipers in this place to come to terms with the fact that I'm not some delinquent, or some replica of my father." The last word came out with distaste, as if he didn't even want to say them. "So now I go to George Washington High, and people want to know me, because they're dying to figure out what is really wrong with me. Because a single parent cannot possible raise a child 'right'."
We let the silence hang between us, as we stood in the middle of the road we had been running on. Camdon was flustered, as if he had said more than he wanted to, and left my gaze to stare blankly at the sky above him.
I was compelled to reach out to him, and I laced my fingers with his, and gave his hand a light squeeze.
"You care about your family." I stated simply, to let him know I understood.
"More than anything." He replied, his voice just a whisper. I let his hand go and watched him watch me, wondering where this left us.
Chapter 8
Something changed between us after that morning. At first, he watched me tentively, as if I was going to go around the whole school and tell them everything he had told me. But after a couple days, he visibly calmed down, as if I had gained his trust or something. And I could tell by the way he acted around me that I had.
Camdon would slide in and sit next to me with Marcus and Dylan, leaving his friends for a little while to chat with us. But he was different with me, and I liked it. He talked to me and asked me legitiment questions, and listened and laughed at what I had to say. It was almost as if he was two different people, and I could watch the transformation between the two.
At first, there was the Camdon I would run with in the mornings, or talk to at school. He was the one that would tell me proudly what his baby sister had done, or something he happened to have watched on TV. Then, there was the Camdon I heard on the announcements everyday, and the one I saw walk around the school. If he came and sat with me at lunch, it seemed like every minute there was someone coming over to 'say hi'. They would say something to impress him, and his face would change ever so slightly. He had a different tone of voice, a smile and a laugh that wasn't as genuine as the one I had become used to hearing. Little mannerism he had such as running a hand through his hair, or rolling his shoulder, which he told me was injured last year when he played lacross, suddenly went away.
To me, he wasn't the same person. But it made me happy, and it made me feel almost honored, that he could be himself around me. But more than making me happy, it made me feel guilty.
"Heidi, Heidi, Heidi," Camdon came over to me, as I was walking home from school. It was only a couple blocks away, and I no longer had a car, so I either bummed a ride with Dylan or Marcus, or walked. He grinned, "Heidi Risler." I physically winced a little, praying that he didn't notice.
"What?" He asked, "You don't like your last name?"
I sighed, of course he would notice. Camdon once told me that he was more perceptive than the average person, and he was right. He caught on to things I often wish he wouldn't.
I shrugged. "Uhh. It's kind of annoying. I don't think it flows well at all."
"Yeah…" Camdon said thoughtfully, "Whenever I think of those really European names like Heidi, or Greta, I think of a last name with Von or Van in it. Like the Von Trapps from the sound of music."
I could feel the blood drain from my face, and felt a little faint. I reached out and he grabbed my shoulders to steady me.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.
"Fine." I was kind of panicky and breathless, "Just a little dizzy that's all."
"Here," He took my backpack from me, which I thought was very sweet, and put an arm around my shoulder, to keep me from swaying again. "You shouldn't walk home, I'll take you, after all, we are only a couple houses down from each other." He grinned.
I tried to focus my mind on Iowa, just the fact that I was here, that I had a purpose for all of this, that I was keeping myself and my family safe, that I shouldn't feel guilty, but it was hard. Camdon's sweet demeanor was not something I was used to receiving, and somehow made it worse, made me feel dishonest.
The ride home was short, and I was quiet through the whole thing, and when we got to the house, he turned, worry written across his face, and asked "Is something wrong?"
I shook my head. "Just tired." My mind was elsewhere, and I hardly felt as if I was sitting next to him.
"Alright. If you say so." I thanked him for the ride and then left.
I had been in Iowa for almost a month now, and it was excruciating. I went through the kitchen and made a simple pasta dinner and salad for Anna and I, planning on finally confronting her about the case. It was painful to wait an hour until she entered the home
, and even though I went over the words I wanted to say a million times in my head, as soon as she sat down for dinner, they all went away.
"Heidi! How's school going for you?" Anna smiled, pulling out some papers she was going through for her work.
"Its not bad." I answered honestly. Camdon was a good reason to go to school in the mornings. "How's work?" I asked.
Anna smiled "Interesting. I'm learning a lot about commercial law firms. There's so much to organize, but it's manageable. No worries."
I sat a little while in silence, before taking a deep breath. "Have you heard anything from Patrick?"
Anna's initial reaction was to correct me, "Please call him Detective O'Connor." She soon understood the significance the question held to me, and took a sip of her water slowly before putting it back down.
She looked pensive for a moment, as if trying to figure out what exactly to say. "I have," She began slowly, "but nothing you need to worry about."
I surge of anger flashed through me. "I am giving up my life for this. I'm the whole foundation of this case aren't I?"
"Who told you that?" Anna frowned.
"No one had to. It was clear when Kaiser and Patrick didn't even know Mickey was a girl, or even what she looked like. I'm a link for this, and I deserve to know what's going on. Is this even worth it for me? Or can I just go home?"
"You don't like it here?" Anna asked sadly, but I knew it was just a tactic to change topics, probably a trick they teach her for when the people she has to babysit become restless and ask questions that shouldn't be asked.
I let out an angry breath. "It really doesn't matter to me whether or not I like this place, what matters to me is whether or not I can go back to my old life without being killed."
"You're life will never be the same, you understand that don't you?" Anna looked deep into my eyes, " It doesn't matter where you are, or what you go back to, you're apart of something bigger now, and you will always feel the effects of that."
"I don't care!" I yelled. "How long am I going to sit here, in the dark? What am I supposed to do, thinking that at any moment, I could be called into a trial in a case I know absolutely NOTHING about. Help me Anna." I practically stomped my foot in frustration like some five year old throwing a tantrum.
