Just For You

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Just For You Page 6

by Leen Elle


  "You speak highly of your friends. Perhaps that's why you have so many of them."

  Cameron's face dropped. Ouch. She pinned him.

  Not for long.

  "Something about me is charming. I can't seem to get you away from me. Tell me what it is you see in me so that I might change it."

  "I wish I knew."

  She knew exactly why, but Imogen would be damned if she was going to tell Cameron just yet.

  "Yeah, well I wish you knew, too."

  Cameron's long, slim fingers wrapped around the dark red plastic cup and brought it to his mouth, where he took a long gulp of iced tea. Condensation fell from its sides and settled into a small pool on the table.

  Hostility seemed to roll off of him in waves, even in his most simple of actions.

  "What do your parents do, Cameron?"

  He set his glass down and shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he laughed. "Just like it doesn't matter what I do, or what you do, or what that waitress over there does," he pointed. "All of it is pointless."

  "Come on," Imogen kicked him on the shin under the table. "Tell me."

  "Um, ow." He made a face and kicked her back.

  "Ow!" She pealed, grabbing hold of her aching shin and banging her knee on the table as she brought her leg up. "Come on, tell me. Tell me. Tell. Me."

  Cameron looked around hastily, afraid they were being watched. A scene would be just what he needed right now. "Okay, okay. Jesus. My mother's a sex therapist and my dad is a psychologist. Now would you shut up?"

  "Interesting."

  "Not really." Cameron stabbed his fork into his french fries and Imogen drew her brow. "When you're thirteen and your mother catches you…" His voice quieted and he made a loose fist with his hand at the same time he made eye contact with her. Imogen watched as his face reddened ever so slightly. Realization hit her and she was caught between amusement and sorrow for him.

  "Well," he continued, "it's not a fun experience having to memorize both male and female anatomy afterward only to be followed up with a mature and responsible," he air-quoted, "conversation about sexual intercourse. Top that off with my father trying to talk to me about how it made me feel to be caught and how it made me feel to have a sex therapist for a mom and blah blah blah. It made me feel like shit, is what it did."

  Imogen's jaw dropped. It wasn't at the fact that Cameron's story was a bit embarrassing, though entertaining, in a way, for her that surprised her, but rather that Cameron, knowing it or not, had actually shared something with her. And she didn't even have to twist his arm to pry it out of him.

  Cameron looked up and saw Imogen with her mouth opened and obviously trying to stifle a laugh to be polite. He shook his head. "Go ahead and laugh. I can handle it."

  She licked her lips. "No, I--- that had to be pretty embarrassing," she said, folding her hands in her lap.

  "Yeah, well, my mother didn't quite understand that. It's her business, it's what she does for a living. Talking about it all day every day made her immune to it but she forgets what it's like for the rest of us. It's still private, but to her, it's nothing to be ashamed of, she says."

  Imogen made a face. "I think she's right. In a way." She could feel the blood surging to her own cheeks. Was it hot in there, or was it just her? She pressed her cool fingers to her forehead.

  "Tell that to the rest of the thirteen-year-olds I was forced to be around. Almost daily I got some sort of crack about whether or not I would be angry if the others called my mom up and asked for sex advice."

  Imogen winced.

  Cameron closed his eyes to rid himself of the flashes of vivid memories which were rushing back to him. Cruel laughter invaded his mind and he tapped his knuckles on the table to get rid of it.

  Suddenly not hungry anymore, Imogen dropped the french fry she was about to eat back onto her plate. She sighed, and when Cameron looked at her with an expectant expression, she raised an eyebrow and gazed steadily right back at him.

  They continued their staring contest for only a few moments before Imogen decided to be out with it.

  "Cameron, would things be any easier between us if we just slept together?"

  Cameron nearly choked. He coughed and sputtered, hitting himself three times in the chest before he could breathe again. The way she suggested that they… So nonchalantly… Oh, God, it was repulsing.

  He was frozen where he sat after his coughing fit, listening to the sounds of reality continue on all around him. Forks and knives clanked against glass plates. The hum of a chord of voices played in his ears. The hissing of a grill in the restaurant kitchen added to the dissonance. He cleared his throat in time with the banging of his fist on the table.

  Cameron was sure his eyes were wide and full of horror. "What did you just propose?"

  Imogen laughed. "Well, that certainly didn't make you uncomfortable at all. I take that as a no."

  "What did you--- where did you--- why did you---?"

  "Oh, for goodness sakes, calm down." Imogen unraveled the napkin from her silverware and went to cleaning up the tea Cameron spilled while he was gasping for air. "Apparently you don't feel the unbearable sexual tension between us."

  Cameron tilted his head and blinked in rapid waves. "There's sexual---" His voice rose an octave on the last word before he cleared his throat and used a whisper. "Sexual tension between us now?"

  Imogen laughed again. "God, I'm joking. Lighten up, would you? Funny! That's what I was trying to be."

  "Well you're not funny."

  "I don't know, I think it was pretty funny."

  He settled back into his seat and cleared his throat, looking tentatively at her under a thick fringe of lashes. As always, she was wearing that infuriatingly innocent smile.

  "You don't want to actually. You know?"

  This time she laughed loud- loud enough to get the people in their general proximity to turn in their chairs and look at her, wondering what the private little joke was. Cameron felt his cheeks grow hot and he ground his teeth together.

  "No! No, no. Don't worry, Cameron. My feelings for you are strictly platonic. I will keep my hands all to myself." More or less, it was the answer he wanted to hear, but something bit at him. Even though he wanted her gone (though at this point, he was seriously entertaining giving up all hope of ever being relieved of her), he couldn't help but feel slight resentment at the sting of rejection that settled in his belly.

  "So why bring it up?" he sneered.

  Imogen swallowed and the sound of it replayed over and over in Cameron's head. "Maybe it would make you like me." Her goofy, wide grin told Cameron that she was joking again.

  "In case you haven't realized, sex works differently for men and women. It doesn't make men like women any better."

  "You like me, I know you do."

  "And where are you getting this absurd notion?"

  "Ice cream."

  Cameron stopped and placed both of his open palms flat down on the tops of his thighs. He squinted his left eye. "You're basing this entire demented whatever-it-is going on between us on ice cream?"

  She nodded. "Two weeks ago you probably would have had exactly what you wanted. When I left your apartment that day, do you remember?"

  "I remember."

  "I wasn't going to come back anymore. But then you showed up at the park and offered to buy me some ice cream. You wouldn't have done that if you didn't at least feel bad about the way things ended when I left your apartment."

  There was his damn conscience getting him into trouble again. And Todd. If it hadn't been for his little guilt trip Cameron wouldn't be sitting in that dinky little diner right then, at the top of a Saturday afternoon, with Imogen. He could have been rid of her permanently. None of this awkward conversation. None of it at all.

  His fingertips dug into his jeans.

  At least, he was sure he would have stood his ground if it hadn't been for Todd. There was no way he would have left to go search for Imogen on his own, without Todd badgering
in his ear. He was almost sure. Right?

  He wasn't really sure at all.

  Sometimes he was a better person than he liked to be.

  A movement to his left caught both of their eyes. They turned their heads simultaneously to look out the large window at the front of the restaurant, which overlooked Main Street. Sauntering down the sidewalk was Todd.

  Cameron jumped up and banged on the window, catching his friend's attention. Todd's face brightened up and he held his arms out. "Hey!" his voice came to them muffled and slightly quieted. Cameron wasted no time, jumping out of the booth and running out the front door.

  The bells jingled as he left.

  "Cameron, there you are."

  "I am going to kill you." Cameron stomped up to Todd and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, turning him and pushing him against the wall next to the restaurant door. Confused but not struggling for air, Todd swallowed and tried to pry Cameron's fingers from around his throat.

  "What the hell, Cam?"

  Cameron shook his head. "I'm going to kill you."

  Todd couldn't help but laugh. "For what?"

  Cameron released him, pushing Todd's back against the wall as he did so. "You know exactly what, you asshole. You know I had to spend all morning and part of my afternoon with her? Alone! Where were you this morning?"

  Todd threw his head back and laughed. "That's seriously what this is all about? Man, I was on my way to the theater right now."

  "Thinking we'd still be there two and a half hours after the movie started? You're an idiot."

  Todd shrugged. "You never know."

  Cameron mentally calculated his chances of besting Todd in a fight. He didn't think it would be too physically taxing. Cameron was just as tall, if not slightly taller, than him, and he definitely had more muscle than Todd. Todd was too lanky and awkward to do any real damage. He looked like he was drawn up by Tim Burton: tall and scraggly and lanky and just plain gawky. The bastard was fast on his feet, though. That might give him an advantage.

  Cameron decided against a fight. He would rather not spend his days in jail under charges of disturbance of the peace and physical assault. He ran a hand through his hair and moved toward the curb of the sidewalk, where he let his legs buckle underneath him.

  Imogen, still inside, paid the bill and, going back to the table to leave a tip, saw Cameron sitting on the sidewalk with his back toward her. Todd approached him from behind.

  "Sorry, dude," Todd said, sitting down next to him and fixing his jacket. "Let's just say I owe you one. I really did get tied up this morning."

  Cameron turned his head and Todd was grinning at him with an eyebrow raised so high it blended into his hairline.

  "You were not literally."

  Todd's grin widened and he shook his head. Cameron made a noise of disgust in his throat and turned away from Todd.

  There was something about Todd that no one could resist, it seemed. He was always getting 'tied up.' Sometimes literally and sometimes not, but whenever he blew Cameron off it was for a little bit of private time with a lady friend.

  "This morning? It couldn't wait?"

  "She was kinky, man."

  "Yeah, and what about your friends? Don't we mean anything to you?"

  "Of course you do, but a man has needs, Cameron. I wouldn't hold it against you if you got a little somethin' somethin' now and then." Todd laughed and slapped a hand on Cameron's back with such force that it sent him forward a few inches.

  "Don't touch me. God only knows where your hands have been and if you've even showered." Cameron's shoes scuffled against the pavement as he stood up and wiped himself off. At that moment, Imogen came out of the restaurant, all smiles.

  "We're paid and good," she sang. "Here, I brought complimentary mints." She handed one to Todd, who held out his hand and immediately began unwrapping it.

  Cameron snatched it from his hands. "You don't get one. You didn't enjoy lunch with us." He turned to Imogen. "I'll pay for half of that. What do I owe you?"

  She shook her head. "My treat," she said, handing Todd another mint. Todd stuck his tongue out at Cameron, who scowled at him.

  Cameron shoved the candy into his pocket and took a cigarette from a pack in his jacket. Its gray smoke was almost invisible in the wet, gray air around them.

  Imogen shoved Todd by the shoulder. "Where were you, Casanova?"

  He raised an eyebrow. "Sorry. I uh. I slept in late."

  "Bullshit." Cameron took another hit. "He was tied up, if you catch my drift."

  Imogen nodded. "Ah, I see."

  "You're an asshole." Todd shook his head at Cameron in disbelief.

  "You're not offending her delicate womanly sensibilities, trust me." Cameron said.

  Imogen laughed. "It's okay, Todd. You didn't miss much. The movie didn't exactly turn out to be the blockbuster it promised to be."

  "Speaking of which," Cameron piped in, flicking the ash from the tip of his cigarette, where it was blown away in the wind, "you owe me ten bucks. The movie choice was yours and it sucked and you didn't even show."

  Imogen pursed her lips and put her hand on Todd's shoulder. "Ignore him. He's been in a bad mood all morning."

  "Yeah, what's new?" Todd asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's not a coincidence that his last name is Moody."

  Imogen stopped. Her eyes glittered with amusement and she gasped. "What?"

  Cameron watched the two with a bored expression and waited for the flood.

  "Your last name is Moody?" Imogen laughed, slapping her hands together. "That's just too rich."

  "I hate you both," Cameron shook his head, throwing the cigarette onto the ground and grinding it into the concrete with his toe.

  "No, really," Imogen managed between giggles. "It suits you, it really does."

  "Shut up." Cameron sauntered past them towards the street corner with every intention of going home.

  Like faithful sidekicks, Imogen and Todd followed Cameron the Anti-Hero in the general direction of his evil headquarters.

  Chapter Six

  We'd Be A Walking Disaster

  Sylvia Moody was lounging on the couch with a half-finished Sudoku puzzle sitting on her lap. Eyeing the puzzle carefully and gnawing on the end of her pencil, she smiled to herself when she found the solution.

  "Aha!" she yelped with triumph, switching a three for a six and a six for a three. Finished, she held it before her and beamed. That one had kept her occupied the entire train ride over and she was relieved and proud to have finally solved the bugger.

  But now there wasn't much left to do.

  She looked around the apartment and smiled. It was clean, organized, and disinfected so that it was so pristine it sparkled. She taught her son well in matters of cleanliness and hygiene, that much was clear to her. Now if only she could tweak him the slightest bit and get him a little more excited about seeing his family.

  Her eyelids were getting heavy as she sat in silence in the ever darkening living room. The sun was set and the whole room sat in a misty haze of hues of blue. The only noises came from the ticking of the antique clock and the muffled voices of the neighbors in the apartment above. Sylvia studied the clock, following its wooden, graceful curves with her eyes. It used to be his grandfather's so she sent it to him after his death a few years ago. A grandfather clock from a grandfather human.

  She was near sleep when she heard the grating sound of a key being pushed into the lock of the front door. Sylvia made a small noise and sat herself up from her reclined position on the couch. She ran her fingers through her hair to fix it and blinked away the sleep from her eyes.

  A sliver of light from the hallway was visible on the carpet of the apartment as the door opened, and Sylvia heard three voices, all in a conversation. She smiled, folded her hands neatly on her knees, and sat up straight. Good, Cameron had brought some friends. Sylvia thought that she would love to meet them.

  There was the flick of a switch and Sylvia squinted her ey
es to protect them from the sudden light. Cameron's face was blank and two voices chattered behind him. He stopped in his tracks when his dark eyes caught sight of a figure on the couch. She came into focus before him and he blinked rapidly.

  It had to be a dream. Please, please, tell him it was a dream.

  "Hey, man." Todd's voice. Todd's hand on his shoulder. "Oh, hi Mrs. Moody."

  Nope. It was completely and utterly real.

  Sylvia stood from the couch and ran her thin, manicured hands down the front of her thighs, pulling at her skirt. "Oh, look at me, I'm just a wrinkled mess," she laughed.

  Cameron closed his eyes and felt the weight of the situation wash over him. His chest seemed to implode in on him. Why, why, why didn't his mom call to tell him she'd be over?

  "Mom."

  She caught Cameron's gaze.

  "Yes, honey? It's so good to see you." She smiled and came at him, her arms open wide. He caught her before she could envelop them around him, grabbing her by the wrists and bringing her arms down.

  "Why are you here? I'm supposed to come visit you, remember."

  "Of course I remember." She smiled bigger and wriggled from his firm hold. "Can't a mother come visit her son once in a while? Sheesh, I didn't know it had to be such a big deal."

  "It's not, Mom. Like most people, however, I would appreciate a word of warning first."

  "Why? So you could clean up around the house?" She nudged him with her elbow and winked. Todd giggled behind Cameron. Cameron thought seriously about punching Todd in the nose with the back of his fist.

  Sylvia was staring at Cameron with a dumb mother-grin on her face. She couldn't believe how handsome he looked. He was unhappy, though. She could see it in the tired, subtle lines around his eyes and his tight mouth. She put her hands on either side of his face and immediately, Cameron stiffened. His eyes darted this way and that and he hoped and prayed to God she wasn't about to-

  She brought his forehead to her mouth and kissed him, leaving a berry-red lipstick imprint in the shape of her mouth right smack in the middle of his face. Oh God, what he wouldn't give to sink into the floor right then and there. Disgusted, he wiped it away with the back of his hand, leaving a smear that would need to be washed off properly. Right now wasn't the time to worry about it.

 

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