by Anne Eliot
I force out a smile, but it feels so stiff my lips crack. I work to fast-track my head with ideas of Cam and me living here in this same dorm. I work to visualize Cam and I walking down this same hallway every day and then picture Cam heading off to breakfast with our little group, including Harrison. I make an image in my mind of Cam being inside Professor Perry’s classroom along with all of us while he and I are being just friends.
A few more students rush past us, slowing to stare at me, but mostly they’re curious about Cam. From far away I hear my voice finally bark out an answer: “No need for help. I’m good. Really good.”
I want to whack my own forehead. Now who sounds awkward? I just sounded like a bad version of Siri.
“Good. Really good.” His voice has also gone slightly robotic.
I think it’s hitting him, too. Our new friendship is going to involve a ton of people who do not know our deal, our pasts, and now we’re going to have to figure out a way to navigate all of that until this—me and him—feels normal together.
Once through the door, he falls into place beside me as I crutch toward our rooms. I keep glancing at him out of the corner of my eyes, but I have this funny urge to startle each time because he’s really next to me.
Voice still brick-heavy, he says, “This dorm looks really—good. Is it? Good?”
“Yes. It’s really…good,” I spit out, but then try to keep the conversation going with, “Once I unload these crutches at the end of the summer, I’ve promised Nash to always have a cane. I’m done pretending I don’t have CP anymore, which will be good. Good for me, that is.”
“That is really good. Because it doesn’t matter. You know? CP is part of your life and you so it should be that way because…you’re so…good…” His eyes shutter down all over again. But then, as though he’s trying to keep his side going, he adds, “It’s good. That’s all. We should all be who we are, because what we are is good.”
“Yeah. And like I said, how good my foot looks!” I hold up my right foot and wiggle it some, happy that I decided to wear socks with my sneaker today so he doesn’t have to see any scars. “I’m not lying about how I’m really good. So good.” I nod. Then nod again.
He’s staring down at my foot as though suddenly he can’t look at my face. “Good,” he says, way too quietly. “And the foot movement looks very good. Good and straight.” He looks up at my face, copying my nod.
As if he’s trying to change the subject, or as if he heard my mind start screaming, BEING FRIENDS WITH YOU IS GOING TO KILL US BOTH, he starts talking really fast: “My parents are getting divorced. That’s the other reason I was using a different last name. I’m sort of homeless until Mom gets settled into an apartment back in Brights Grove.”
“That’s good. Really good,” I say distractedly while we pause at my door and I work to fish out my key card. My mind’s spinning. Do I invite him in? Do I invite him for lunch…God please help me! What am I supposed to do right now?
When he doesn’t answer, only bites his lower lip and crosses his arms while staring at me through his lashes, I try to regain the conversation thread and realize I just said his parents’ divorce was good. In a rush to recover, I add, “Wait. I mean…I’m sorry. It’s not good. It’s tough when families split up and…so, not good.”
“No. The divorce is good. Really good. A really long story.”
I bite back an inappropriate giggle. “A good story?”
His brows shoot up and he laughs out loud. “The story’s not so good, actually.”
Suddenly, I’m laughing out loud along with him. “That’s not good.”
“Damn. How many times have we said really good and good in the past minute?”
“I think good twenty times, but I didn’t get a really good count.” We laugh together some more. “I’m sorry this…whole thing…me and you. It’s bound to get strange, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. And it just got beyond strange.” He sighs—it sounds a little sad, but I can see he’s relaxing again as well. “We’ll get used to it…we’ll figure out how to hang out together. I know we can.”
I nod. “There’s more for you to know. I feel like it will help if I can hear about every month of your life that I missed. If you don’t mind.”
He smiles. “Yeah. I guess that would help me, too. If you’re willing to go for coffee or just talk one of these days, after I get settled in?”
I nod. “Let’s just let all of that happen naturally. As long we’re—you and I—as long as we’re good, then I’m good and you’re good then—oh, God.” I sigh. “I’m doing it again!”
He leans against the wall by my door. “I’ll have to work on smoothing things over with your Harrison. He wasn’t very happy to have to disassemble his amazing bachelor suite for me this morning, that’s for damn sure.”
“Oh. Yeah. I bet that was a pain.” That comment has me blushing bright red, so I change the subject. “And don’t forget, you’ll still have to make it through Patrick, because…well, you know how he is.”
“Oh hell—I’m sure he’ll try to kill me or something.”
I laugh, leaning back against my door for support. “I think he said double black eyes…or wait…maybe that was Laura?”
He grins. “I’d ask how those two have been, but I’m afraid you’d start saying the word ‘good’ again.”
I laugh deep into my belly. “Yeah. Don’t ask. Um.” I point to the bag he’s forgotten he’s holding for me. “My bag?”
He hands over the bag just as the double doors at the end of the hall swing open. It’s Laura. She’s running as fast as I’ve ever seen her run. “Ellen. Ellen! Thank -the-gods-and-heaven that I’ve caught you here, because I’ve got good news. Cam’s here! He’s actually here which is so good. Only, I found out he’s going to be Harrison’s roommate, which is so not very good, now is it?”
“Did she say good? Or not good?” Cam’s biting his lip as he straightens and faces Laura.
She skids to a halt, her eyes finally landing on Cam. “Good. God. You’re here-hullo!” Her face transforms from shock to pure happiness. “Cam! Oh wee-little-Camden, you’re here!”
His eyes are dancing with laughter, but he’s holding himself stiff like he’s really unsure what to do all over again. “Hello, Ireland,” he says softly.
Laura, without a pause, launches her full body at Cam, which forces him to reach out and catch her midair. She’s hugging him as tightly as I did, only she’s pulling it off in her wrong but always right Laura London ways. She’s using her legs and her arms and most of her hair, minus all of my tears to wrap herself all around him. “Oh, Cam. Dear, -sweet-you. It’s wonderful to see ya-here.” Confident that he’s not going to drop her, she leans back and places both hands on his cheeks. “Would you look at your beautiful face! How I’ve missed seeing these gorgeous peepers staring out at me. And wow.” She pulls in a long breath and leans back some more. “Your hair and…all of you…you look very changed, but still the same. My poor-wee, long-lost, beautiful Canadian. What months you must have suffered without us bothering you every day.”
“What months indeed.” He hugs her tightly before setting her back down on her feet. “You’re as beautiful and as bright as ever, Laura. I can’t believe you’re not back in Ireland. Don’t those people miss you, or is there something you’re not telling us?” He winks.
“Bite your wee-wicked tongue. I’m sure I’m half Canadian now. I’m staying. Even if they try to get me home, I won’t have it.” She crosses her arms and surveys him shamelessly up and down, then tosses me a look as though she’d like to check if I’m okay.
I smile as wide as I can, so she understands all is well. Turning back to Cam she adds, “I see you’ve lost some weight but gained some muscles.” She reaches up and squeezes his biceps unabashedly. “Cor…would ya-look at these things. It’s like you’ve been lifting logs the whole time you’ve been gone. Where’ve ya-been, laddie? Just where?”
“I’ve got tons to tell you, but how
about we do it over lunch—and in front of Patrick, if I survive meeting up with him again. Then I only have to say it all once.”
“Sure. Yes. Of course.” She glances nervously over her shoulder, then whispers, “I’ll smooth things over between you and Patrick. Okay?”
“I’d appreciate it.” He tugs at her hair, adding, “I see you’ve lightened up on the glitter some.”
“Some.” She flips her bright curls around, and only half the usual amount of glitter falls out. “Don’t need all these new kids knowing my personal secrets. I save the big pixie dustings for when magic is needed. Had I known you were coming today, I’d have gone all out!” She leaps back, dance-hopping with glee as if she’d like to tackle-hug him all over again, but then her face
crosses with worry as she registers my puffy, cried-out eyes. Turning her back to him, she takes up my hand and gives it her best-friend squeeze. “So you two obviously talked it out. How’s…things between you two, then?”
“We’re good,” I answer for him, shooting him a wink.
He winks back. “It’s going to take time, but we’ve decided to start off friends. Are you in on that part? I sure hope so.”
“Thanks to fate, I’ve always been in with being friends with you, Cam Campbell. Friends starting and friends finishing, that’s what was decided the day we all met. Isn’t that right, Ellen?”
“Of course.”
Laura squeezes my hand tighter. This time, I squeeze back.
She pulls back as Patrick and Harrison come through the door. They’re both out of breath as though they, too, were walking extra fast to get to me. “But your answers are not satisfying me one bit. How are ye? Really and truly, tell me. Are you okay?”
Cam gives me this secret look as he answers, “Good. I’m really, really, really, really good. Honest.”
Laura sighs. “Good. Really, really good.”
I bust out laughing just as Harrison and Patrick walk up. It’s sheer nervousness that’s driving it, and for some reason I can’t stop. Patrick is ignoring Cam completely as he calls out to me, “Ellen, Professor Perry sent us to the nurse’s station. He said you’re sick. Really sick. And that he sent you away with a kid we don’t even know named Reece, but here you are looking—all—red-faced, but you’re laughing.”
I’m glancing at Cam as I answer through my laughter, “I’m good. Really good.”
Patrick crosses his arms. “If you’re so good, why does your face look like you’ve been stung by two hundred bees? I know how you look when you’ve been crying. What the hell is going on?”
“Patrick!” Laura walks over and grabs Cam’s hand just as his eyes land on Cam. “Patrick. It’s Cam.”
Patrick goes sheet white. “Holy crap!” He crosses his arms in front of him, with his fisted hands hiding under his elbows, and his voice turns murderous. “I’ll say it again. What the hell is going on? They said you weren’t coming!”
“Are you sick or not?” Harrison asks, glancing from face to face, obviously trying to compute the situation. I try to bottle up my laughter, because Harrison looks really nervous, like he doesn’t quite know what to do or where to stand, because in addition to me laughing and crying at the same time, Laura’s holding his new roommate’s hand!
I say, “Harrison, this is Cam. Cam Campbell, the fourth person who won our Frozen Trees project with us and…and…he’s one of our best friends. I’m not sick…just cried because I haven’t seen him in a long time.” I say that last comment with a warning glance toward Patrick, and then turn back to Harrison. “I guess you guys already met this morning?”
“Oh. Yes. Cam. Cam…Campbell?” Harrison looks really surprised, then kind of annoyed as he locks some sort of challenge glare on Cam. “But you said your name was Reece?”
Harrison glances at me like he’s trying to read my mind or something.
Cam shrugs. “My mom registered me under her maiden name. Long story.”
Harrison recovers his shocked expression and says, “Sorry about this morning, dude. I was kind of rushed
and not as polite as I should have been. No one gave me any warning. Not a phone call, not a note, nothing. I was annoyed because I hate surprises. I’m also not exactly fun in the morning as a general rule. Hope you understand.” He’s layering on a bigger smile, but I get the idea he’s kind of angry.
I gasp. “Oh, Harrison. I think it’s my fault you didn’t get notified! I pulled some sort of official note off your door last night. I was going to give it to you when we met up at the pond to take photos, but then…” I blush. “We never got to the pond and so…” I blush more, and my voice loses all its strength. “I—I—bet that’s the letter that says something about Cam’s arrival. Sorry.”
Harrison walks over and takes my bag off my shoulder. “Well, if that’s why, then it’s totally forgiven.” He winks and smiles, pulling my hand off one of my crutches. “Considering last night was the best night of my life.”
Although I think I’ve just died, and Patrick’s eyes bug out and then back in all while Laura looks like she might have swallowed a live rabbit and she wants to run out of here, Cam’s expression, thankfully hasn’t changed.
Cam smiles softly at me like this is all okay, while Laura and Patrick manage to slam their shocked open mouths into fake smiles that look rather serene and calm. I’m sure they’re doing it so Harrison doesn’t catch on to just how deeply wrong this all feels to the four of us. Their reactions make me feel safe and very protected—as well as slightly sad. And because they’re all so sweet—Harrison included—I realize I don’t have to worry if Cam and I can be friends at all.
We are. We already are. And all of this, all of us, is going to be fine once we adjust.
I turn my attention to Harrison, because I know it’s up to me to smooth over some of this awkwardness. I make sure my voice comes out soft and steady. “How was class? Sorry I missed it.”
“Class was good. Really good.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cam actually bite his lip so he doesn’t laugh out loud, as Harrison adds, “I thought you were sick. You look like…” Harrison seems to be worriedly scanning my face. “Well…you look good.” Thankfully the red puffiness must have faded.
“I’m—yeah—good,” I say, biting my own lip because saying the word good is setting off random giggles all over again, and I think if I laugh in Harrison’s face, it’s going to be impossible to explain why. Quickly I go on: “I think we should all skip lab time today and go to a long lunch so we can catch up.”
“Good. Really good idea.” Laura rubs her stomach.
I bust out laughing on that one, as does Cam, because I think we both know it’s not out of the ordinary if we crack up at Laura London.
“What?” Laura jumps up and down. “I’m good-n-hungry. It’s not a bloody crime, is it? Good God.”
I laugh more. So does Cam.
Harrison frowns, and I don’t blame him, because we are now acting more than strange and it’s obvious Cam and I are sharing some sort of private joke. Glowering now, Harrison glances doubtfully between all of us. “I’m not sure I want to miss my lab time, and quite honestly, I feel like I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Maybe just for a bit, dude? A fast way to get to know each other?” Cam asks.
“Yes. Please do come. We’ll share all of our Brights Grove stories with you,” Laura adds.
Harrison makes a face, as if Laura’s suggested we go dig holes or something, but as Laura bounces over to Cam and clings happily to his arm, I get that she’s trying to make everything okay—for me, for Harrison—and she’s probably trying to shield Cam from Patrick, who looks like he might kill someone. And that someone might be Cam.
I shoot her a grateful smile and touch Harrison’s hand.
“Please, Harrison?” I ask. “It’s…I need you to come, just for a bit.”
Harrison nods. “For you. Only for you.”
“Thanks.” Suddenly, I’m so relieved that the four of us are back
together, and that Harrison’s trying to be understanding even when he has every right to be annoyed as heck, that I pull in a huge deep breath. A breath that makes me realize I probably haven’t breathed normally since Cam disappeared from our lives. I cling to Harrison’s hand now and give it a squeeze as I start bawling between my laughter.
I hear Harrison say, “Ellen. You’re not okay. Is she okay? Does she do this a lot? Patrick? Laura? Holy crap. I seriously think she is not good.”
I start laugh-crying more, and my gaze skates over to Cam, who looks like he’s also about to start laughing again. Or possibly crying along with me.
Patrick puts his hand on Cam’s shoulder, and then answers for me: “She’s good. I didn’t think she would be, but yeah. I think she’s really, really good. We all are.”
I start laugh-crying more.
Ellen
I’ve stopped at Harrison’s room—Harrison and Cam’s room—on the way to my evening swim. The door’s cracked open, so I peek inside while I knock.
Harrison’s voice is muffled as he calls out, “Ellen, hi. Come in.”
I crutch around the door and breathe a sigh of relief when I realize Cam’s not in here. “How did you know it was me?”
“I heard your crutches. Is one of your legs bothering you? You were way slower than usual.”
“Saving the energy for the pool, that’s all,” I answer, trying not to feel stung by his comment.
He’s pulled his head out of the closet and he’s got his glasses on, which always makes him seem gentle and cute. The way he’s smiling that happy-to-see-you, dimple-dimple grin at me makes me think he didn’t mean to sound harsh. I’m sure I’m being too sensitive. I know he’s been noticing my slow ways ever since my episode in the stairwell, and how could he not? I’m a bit of a shocker sometimes. Now that he’s totally out of his crutches and only left with his boot, he’s almost back to a normal gait. As if to prove my thoughts, he walks effortlessly over while holding a pile of laundry, pausing to place a fast kiss on my lips on his way across the room. “Cam and I are doing some rearranging in here.”
