He pulled his hands out of the pocket of his hoodie and held them up to show they were empty. Then he patted his pockets down. “No tricks. I promise. Just consider it part of my apology. A peace offering.”
“You worried that the shirt and the cologne weren’t enough?” I smirked at him as I got into the front seat. Beth looked confused but got in the car without asking for me to elaborate. The seat was really far back because Cam had been the last one to sit in it. I looked at him in the rearview mirror and laughed out loud. His knees were practically in his chest. I guess Beth’s rule about the front seat might have been a fair one. I pulled my seat up all the way and I buckled my seat belt.
We got to school a little later than normal, so I had to go straight to English without stopping at my locker. I sat down at my desk and Cam slid in behind me.
“All right, class, please take out your books and turn to chapter three on editing,” Ms. Cutter announced from the front of the room. She was writing something on the whiteboard.
“Crap. I forgot my book. We didn’t have time to go to our lockers.” I groaned. Ms. Cutter had a strict come to class prepared or don’t come at all policy. She’d give you a pass to your locker, but it would usually be accompanied by a pass to detention.
“I don’t have mine, either.” Cam frowned. “What are the chances she won’t notice?”
“Considering she walks up and down the rows to make sure we’re working, I’d say they’re slim.” I didn’t really want to miss conditioning because I was in detention. Coach Lambert would have an aneurysm, and then she’d torment me with extra suicides. The boys’ coach was much more forgiving. Adams would give the guys a slap on the wrist and tell them not to let it happen again. I turned in my seat. “Ms. Cutter loves you. You’re way less likely to get detention than I am. Plus, Coach Adams won’t punish you eternally if you do get detention. Tell her you need your book, and grab mine from my locker, while you’re at it. Please?” I gave him big, sad puppy dog eyes. “I’ll owe you a favor, anything, anytime.”
Cam watched me, weighing his options. “Ok, fine, but if I get detention, you owe me a lot more than a favor.” His eyes filled with mischief just like they had this morning, and I had a feeling I could end up regretting my answer. “I’m thinking a backrub or a home cooked dinner. Maybe a make-out session?” He raised his eyebrows in question, waiting for me to freak out. I kept my face unreadable, but my mind wandered to thoughts of making out with Cam. Was it wrong to hope he got detention?
We were quickly running out of time, so I agreed to his terms. “Fine, fine. Just go get the books before it’s too late.” I grabbed his hand and wrote my locker combination on it in pen.
Cam cleared his throat, and he raised his hand. Ms. Cutter turned from the whiteboard to face him. “Yes, Mr. Bates?”
“Ms. Cutter, I don’t have my book.” He frowned, a penitent student. “My ride was having car troubles this morning, and I didn’t have time to go to my locker.” That’s right, Cam, charm her pants off. “I thought you’d appreciate it if I was at class on time, so I came straight here.” He turned on the hundred-watt smile, bringing the dimples out in full force. Nobody could resist the dimples, especially Ms. Cutter.
“I’d have appreciated it if you’d been in class on time and prepared.” She scolded him, but it wasn’t very convincing. Ms. Cutter picked up her slip of hall passes and scribbled on one, then held it out to him. “I’ll let it slide this time, since it’s your first infraction of the year. Next time, you’ll get detention. You have three minutes to be back.”
“Thanks, Ms. Cutter, you’re the best.” She tried to hide her smile as he grabbed the slip from her hand and headed out the door.
Two minutes and forty-eight seconds later, Cam walked back through the door, two books under his arm. Ms. Cutter was rummaging through her desk drawer for something, so she didn’t notice that little detail. Cam’s eyes found mine, and he winked as he put the pass on her desk and headed for his seat. I grinned. I knew he wouldn’t get in trouble. He handed me my book as he sat down.
Cam leaned over his desk and whispered into my ear. I’d worn my hair in a high ponytail that morning, so his lips were practically touching my earlobe. His warm breath was tickling the skin on my neck. My eyes closed involuntarily, and I had to repress the shudder that ran through my body. Luckily, I was wearing a long-sleeve shirt, because goose bumps were covering my arms.
“You were right; no detention. Guess you’re off the hook, Bebe.” I could feel his lips turn up in a smile.
Well, that’s unfortunate for me, now isn’t it?
“Also, there was something on your locker when I got there.”
“Mr. Bates, are you following along?” Ms. Cutter knew he wasn’t, but he could do no wrong in her eyes.
Cam sat back in his seat and opened his book. What did he mean, there was something on my locker? Did he mean someone had vandalized it? Did Angelica decide to retaliate by writing filthy names on it with permanent marker? I wouldn’t put it past her and wouldn’t say I didn’t deserve it, either.
Cam couldn’t just tell me something like that and then not tell me what he’d seen. I ripped a piece of paper from my notebook and scribbled on the top.
What was on my locker?
I folded the note hastily and slipped my hand behind me under his desk so that it was resting on his knee. Ms. Cutter would’ve definitely noticed the old stretch and drop.
Cam’s hand reached out for mine and grabbed the note. The brief touch of his fingertips tangling with mine made me feel warm all over. I’m pathetic. I waited for a minute, pretending to be engrossed in my text, when he leaned forward and his hand wrapped around my waist from behind. He dropped the note in my lap. I waited until Ms. Cutter looked away and unfolded the paper on my open book.
It was an envelope taped to the front of your locker with your name printed on it. Looked like it was a card or something. I didn’t grab it because I didn’t know if you’d want me to leave it for you. Ms. Cutter keeps looking back here, so let’s talk about it after class.
I left his message open on my textbook and started taking notes on the paper below it, periodically glancing back up at Cam’s writing. A simple letter taped to my locker? Or an envelope filled with anthrax spores from a pissed off cheerleader seeking revenge?
I looked at the clock. Thirty-five minutes left of class. The worst part was that I didn’t have time to visit my locker between first and second period. I’d have to wait until just before government to find out what it was. Hopefully it was still there. Unless it really was anthrax. This was going to be a long hour and a half.
The bell finally rang, and I looked at Cam. “So this letter on my locker, was there anything suspicious about it? Was my name pasted on it with letters cut from a magazine, or was it written in blood perhaps?”
He laughed at me. “What kind of letter are you expecting? A death threat?”
“Something like that. I’m pretty sure Angelica is going to have it out for me after yesterday’s little homecoming exhibition.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, your name wasn’t written in blood. But the handwriting actually did look kind of girly, and the envelope was pink.”
So the envelope was supposed to look enticing? Anthrax spores were seemingly more likely by the minute.
I made it through second hour just short of being killed by curiosity and dashed out the door, straight to my locker. I stopped and examined the envelope. It looked harmless enough, and Cam was right; the handwriting was kind of girly. I’m pretty sure Angelica isn’t smart enough to really booby trap an envelope. She’s more the emotional damage type. I was snapped out of my analysis when Cam and Beth walked up beside me.
“Ooh, Bea, what’s that?” Beth sounded excited, much more than I was.
“I don’t know. I’m in the middle of trying to decide if it’s a death threat from Angelica.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Bea; Angelica would never send a card with a death threa
t.” Beth smirked. “She’d just say it to your face. Open it already, would you? I’m dying to know what’s in it.” Beth was bouncing on her peppy little cheer toes.
She was right. Angelica probably wouldn’t waste her time threatening me so discreetly. She’d do it loudly and in front of a lot of people for maximum attention. I reached up and grabbed the envelope off my locker, then turned it over. It’d been sealed shut. Here goes nothing… I carefully opened it and pulled out a piece of plain white cardstock, cut and folded to the shape and size of a card. On the inside was a note, typed on plain printer paper.
Dear Bianca,
I hope this letter doesn’t freak you out, but I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now how I feel about you. I know it’s a little cowardly to tell you in a note. I’m sorry I don’t have the nerve to tell you in person. Hopefully I will sometime soon, but for now, this will have to do.
I’m not really sure where to start, so I guess I’ll begin by letting you know some of the things I like about you. You’re an amazing person. Funny and witty and sarcastic. You make me laugh whenever I’m with you. You’re so talented as a basketball player, which I have to tell you is super hot. You’re wicked smart but play it down because you’re real, not pretentious. You’re loyal to your friends and your team, and no matter what, you’d have their backs.
To top it all off, you’re one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever known. I saved this for last because it’s not the only reason I like you, but it’s definitely a bonus. I can’t help but stare when you walk into a room, because you light it up. I have to admit I find myself thinking about you more often than I probably should.
I know I may sound like a stalker, but I promise I don’t have any creepy stalker tendencies. I’m not some sappy girly dude, either. Maybe that’s why this is too hard to say in person. :-) I just needed to get all of this off my chest. Sorry it’s taken me so long to admit my feelings. You deserve to be told how wonderful you are every day.
Yours - ?
Oh. My. Gosh. It’s a love letter. I looked over my shoulder and up and down the hallway. Maybe the writer was standing close by, watching me read it. Holy Crap. What if he IS watching me read it, right now? What if he’s a weirdo? What if he’s not a he? No, no, no, he said he was a dude. I shook my head, mind racing. Who in the world would send me a love letter?
“Eeeek!” Beth squealed over my shoulder, her bouncing now uncontrollable. Guess she’d been reading along. She grabbed me by the arms and started shaking me. “Oh my gosh, Bea. You have a secret admirer. That’s so romantic.” She was grinning from ear to ear. “I wonder who it is? From what he said, it must be someone you know and talk to, at least a little.”
Cam was standing over my shoulder, reading the note, too. Maybe I should have concealed it better. Who knew what kind of ribbing I’d get from Cam about this. “Guy sounds like a loser to me. He should have had the man parts to come tell you himself.” I looked up at him, and the faintest of smiles played on his lips. He’d definitely be making fun of me.
“What?” I asked him sarcastically. “You don’t think it’s romantic?”
“Oh, sure. It’s romantic…If you’re a sissy.”
“Well, what would you have done differently? Mr. I’m the bomb at expressing my feelings, which is why I’ve had plenty of steady girlfriends?”
“Dang, why don’t you tell me what you really think?” Cam’s words were accusatory, but it was clear that he wasn’t upset. He looked like he was going to laugh. “I don’t know, Bianca. Maybe I wouldn’t have done it differently. For all you know, I would have done the exact. Same. Thing.” Cam stared at me, his eyes boring holes into mine, waiting for a reaction. Then he turned the conversation back to me. “You know, Bebe, you’ve conveniently avoided telling us how you feel about having a secret stalker.”
I had avoided it, because I wasn’t sure how I felt about it yet. I was still stunned by the fact that someone actually liked me and not Beth. I wouldn’t say that, so instead I offered, “I don’t know. I’m still trying to decide if it’s a practical joke. I mean, there haven’t been any guys acting interested in me lately.”
“I think that’s the point, Bebe; he’s telling you in a letter because he can’t tell you how he feels in person.” Cam was giving me the duh look.
“I know, but this letter was delivered completely out of the blue. Forgive me if I decide to wait a day or two for the hidden camera host to pop out and tell me I’m being pranked. I suppose by then I’ll know what to think, once I’ve decided it’s the real deal.”
The warning bell for third period rang. “Bea, you’re completely hopeless.” Beth sighed. “Why can’t you just accept it for what it is and be excited that somebody loves you?” She said the word loves as if she were an eight-year-old telling me I was k-i-s-s-i-n-g someone in a tree.
“I don’t know,” I answered as the three of us headed toward government. “I guess I just think that it’s too crazy to be true.” I had no clue who’d left the note, and I wasn’t sure I could believe their words until I knew who my mystery man was.
CAMERON
Last night after I’d spoken with Beth, I was a hot mess. She’d given me an ultimatum: either I tell Bebe how I felt, or she would. So I wrote a letter. I’d spent most of the night writing and rewriting that stupid note. I hadn’t been able to sleep because I was stressed about delivering my message, so of course I overslept the next morning.
I thought I was busted when Bebe asked me to prove I wasn’t hiding anything destructive in my pocket. I was sure she’d ask me to show her the inside. Luckily, she was satisfied with the pat down. Even luckier, we needed our English books and I had an excuse to go to her locker. That dumb envelope was burning a hole in my sweatshirt. Still, I almost chickened out.
I observed Bebe carefully as she read my sappy love letter. She looked overwhelmed, not at all excited. I’d hoped for a better reaction than a blank stare. Trying to play it cool, I told her the letter writer was a loser. In hindsight, I realize that was probably a bad idea. I really needed to stop giving her mixed signals. And, I needed to know what she was thinking. So I turned the conversation back on her.
“I’m still trying to decide if it’s a practical joke. I mean, there haven’t been any guys that have acted interested in me lately.” She answered, truly mystified.
Yes, there had been. Brady had been all over her ever since school started. She really was oblivious if she didn’t notice that. I wanted to scream and pull my hair out. Why couldn’t she see what I saw in her? She was perfect, and I’d just told her so. Bebe had Beth on such a high pedestal that she couldn’t see her own amazing qualities. It was maddening. I was going to have to do a lot more than write her a love note, if I wanted to get her out of her own head.
We had a test in government today that took up the whole hour, and Bebe was done long before me. I was still finishing my last question as the bell rang. She gathered up her stuff and patted me on the arm. “See you in sixth,” she whispered, then headed out the door. Beth had gone without me, too, so I wasn’t able to talk about the situation until lunchtime. She texted me.
B: That letter on Bea’s locker WAS from you, right?
C: Who else would it be from?
B: Just checking. :-) Cam, it was so good!
C: I don’t think Bebe would agree.
B: Don’t freak out. She just needs to process.
C: She didn’t seem too impressed or very happy to have a secret admirer.
B: Chill. Bea’s probably obsessing over who it is as we speak.
I looked over at Bebe’s lunch table and caught her staring back at me. I smiled and waved. Did she suspect that I was the one who sent the note? Part of me hoped so. That’d make this whole charade a lot easier. She smiled back, like she felt guilty she’d been caught, then turned her attention to her friends.
C: I don’t know…
B: Trust me. So what do you have planned next?
C: I’m not sure yet, but I k
now it has to be better than my lame note.
B: I already told you, the note wasn’t lame. It was perfect.
C: I guess we’ll see tomorrow when I make my next move.
B: I can’t wait. You better make it good.
C: Geez, Beth. No pressure or anything.
B: I know you’ll come up with something awesome. I have faith in you. :-) <3
C: Well, at least that makes one of us…
I spent the rest of lunch in La-La Land, racking my brain for good ideas. Something that would prove my note was sincere without making me look like a sap. Maybe I could leave something in her locker. I had her combination now. Flowers…candy…doves? Ok, I was reaching with that last idea. A present could work, but what should I give her? If it was something too personal, she might know it was me. I wasn’t ready for that. Not personal enough, though, and it wouldn’t seem thoughtful.
What does Bianca Barnes like? What makes her excited? The obvious answer was basketball, but I don’t think even Bebe would consider basketball a super romantic subject. I know she’s been wanting to get some sweatbands for practice. Because nothing says I love you like new sweatbands. Cam, you’re such a guy. Maybe I should head to the store after school and walk around until inspiration strikes? Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.
By the time chemistry class rolled around, I was dying to see if Bebe had formed more of an opinion on her secret admirer. Beth was right about one thing; knowing someone had a crush on her, but not knowing who it was, would be driving Bebe nuts. I tried to act casual as I strolled into Mr. Gardner’s class and pulled up a seat next to her. “So how’s your day been, Bebe?”
She looked at me with exasperation. “How do you think it’s been? I’m going freaking cuckoo. I can’t stop thinking about that stupid letter and who might have written it. At this rate, you’re going to have to commit me to the loony bin by the weekend.”
I loved that she was so flustered. My confession must be having a bigger affect on her than I initially thought. This was good. I decided to push her a little harder. “Stupid letter, huh? You didn’t like it? I think most girls would be pretty excited to be given something like that. I know if some chick had done the same for me, I’d be extremely flattered. Not surprised, but definitely flattered…”
Perfectly Oblivious (The Perfect Series Book 1) Page 11
