26. Thanksgiving
The only way my mom would ever, ever allow me to spend the night at a guy”s house was if—she would never let me. It’s a tall order just to allow me to stay with a friend. If I told her I was invited to Cameron’s, she’d slingshot that opportunity out the window into the abyss.
So, the day after Cameron’s invite, I beg Brandy for her help. She needs to be my alibi. I will tell my mom she invited me over to her place because she’s lonely during the holidays. Then I’ll promise to come back by Friday night so I can spend the weekend with Dad.
“Or you could ditch the boy and really come to my place,” Brandy says. “We don’t have anything planned, my aunt and I.”
“You have no idea what this could mean for us though, at his house.”
Brandy pulls her short blonde hair into a tiny ponytail. She opens her dresser drawer and tosses a bunch of clothing onto her bed to be packed. “Spending a lot of time with Cameron lately. I remember when you hated him. That was nice.”
“What do you mean?”
She doesn’t look at me when she elaborates. “You eat dinner with him. Take daily walks until nearly midnight with him. You’re talking about him constantly.”
“That’s bad?”
“No, it’s disgustingly cute. But now I eat alone because you guys never invite me.”
My shoulders fall. “You can come tonight. Will you be my alibi?”
“Joy, I get to be a third wheel,” she deadpans. “I’m sure you don’t need one. Tell your mom the truth.”
“I do. Plus, what’s a tricycle without a third wheel?” My tone is overly perky.
She stands up straight from her hunched position over her duffel. Her expression is one of annoyance. “A bicycle, Lainey. A bicycle.”
“Not true. It would be a two-wheeled trike, which would tip over and severely maim the rider.”
A grin begins to form on her face, but she covers it up quickly. “That’s morbid.”
I smile.
She sighs. “Fine. I’ll come.”
“TMI,” I say, almost as a reflex. That’s my back and forth with Cameron. But he’s not here, and I’m staring at Brandy’s highly disturbed expression. “Sorry.”
“Gross.”
When the time for my dinner with Cameron arrives, Brandy and I walk into the dining hall. She’s a bit huffy and puffy beside me, which confuses me. I invited her, didn’t I?
“Is everything okay?” I ask her.
She holds off her reply until we reach the booth that Cameron secured for us. “Everything is amazing,” Brandy responds blandly and leaves to go get some food. I follow her, giving an apologetic look to my boyfriend. My boyfriend. Weird.
Dinner is great. I indulge in a plate of fries and half of Cameron’s cheeseburger. We don’t talk as much as we usually do, but our legs are tangled together under the table. Every now and then I glance at Brandy and her plate of undressed lettuce and croutons from the salad bar. It’s so quiet it’s like she’s not even here.
“Did you decide?” Cameron asks, gaining back my attention.
“I want to go.” Cameron smirks at that, but I continue. “I just need to come up with an excuse to tell my mom. You’re a guy so instant ‘no.’”
“Say you’re at my place,” Brandy blurts, slowly crunching her food. “It’s not that big of a deal. I don’t care anymore.”
“Thanks.”
“Whatever.”
Cameron points a thumb at Brandy, who is now nose deep in her phone. What’s with her? he mouths.
Nothing,I respond.
He shrugs, and we go back to enjoying each other’s company.
By one in the morning, I’m in bed. I have finally perfected a text to my parents that will excuse my absence on Thanksgiving while also ensuring my attendance to see Dad before he leaves. I hit send and place the phone on my night table. Tomorrow I will be at Cameron’s house.
I wake to a missed call and a long text.
Mom
Lainey, I wish you told me of your plans earlier. I wanted to see you, but if what you truly need is to recharge in a new setting for a day or two, I cannot deny you that. Home is getting a bit depressing for obvious reasons. Brandy is the girl who bought those clothes for you? Do not let her buy you anymore. And DO be present during the weekend. Your father needs to see you too. He’s as bummed as me about you skipping on Thanksgiving, even though it’ll be lame. He says he understands and wants you to be happy, but I sense he’s disappointed. He loves you. We both do. Text me Brandy’s address.
I feel a rush of relief as I type out a response.
Me
I’ve just been sad lately about the separation and feel it best not to be depressed on a day of being grateful. I will text Dad later. I will be present. And Brandy’s family is paranoid of break-ins. I don’t know if I should even ask for her full address. She’s driving me anyway. :)
On the entire ride down to Cameron’s house, I keep thinking to myself how mature I am for doing this. How I’m not freaking out about this. Then the angel on my shoulder reminds me that I just lied to my parents so I could be with my boyfriend. I mean, part of my text to my mom was right. If I were home, I would be upset with my face buried in my pillow.
Once we pull up to his house, butterflies soar in my gut. I have been here before but with more intoxicated college students and Mario Kart. I need to make a good impression. I’m a complete wreck until his parents come to the door. The sweetest, most beautiful-looking parents ever.
His dad is a silver fox with Cameron’s exact nose, jaw structure, and eyes. His mom has smooth light brown hair and Cameron’s full lips. The crazy part is, Cameron resembles both so much it’s freaking me out a little but not in a terrible way.
They both greet me with hugs as we enter. “So glad we get you for Thanksgiving,” his mother says.
“I’m glad you’ll have me.” I don’t even need to fake being happy because I can feel the love radiating off them.
“I’m Violet and my husband is Andrew. We have some leftover takeout pizza in the kitchen you are welcome to. Cameron can show you to the guest room.”
“We had a little something before we left campus,” I tell Violet. “Thank you so much.”
Just then, something furry and white struts into the room. I whip my head around to Cameron. “You have a cat?!”
“Her name’s Ocean,” Andrew chuckles.
“Technically, she’s my sister,” Cameron says.
I laugh just at the idea. I squint at Cameron. “Ya know, I do see the feline resemblance.”
His parents laugh, but Cameron twitches his nose like a bunny. Wrong animal, cutie.
All of us briefly sit around the table and talk before his parents excuse themselves and head to bed. Ocean follows immediately after. She must automatically go where they do.
Soon after, the two of us head up the stairs too, after retrieving our bags from the car. I am shown to the bathroom and guest bedroom. “I have to be alone?” I pout.
“Yes, baby girl, but you’ll be fine.”
I cringe. “Never call me that again.”
He winks and shuts the door to his bedroom, leaving me in the hall.
Thanksgiving Day is spent relaxing. Andrew and Violet tend to food while I sit on their lovely couch and write some of my short story for my creative writing class. Most of the day, Cameron sits with me until he’s summoned into the kitchen to mash potatoes.
“Stop typing, you nerd,” he tells me.
I finish my page and shut my laptop. “What do you want from me?”
“Help me with potatoes.”
I don’t know what it is about the look he gives me, but I cannot deny him. So I follow him into the kitchen. He’s smart enough not to try anything in the presence of his parents, but I have to admit I’m a tad disappointed.
I am 99 percent sure I spend all of dinner with a smile on my face. Cameron’s parents seem genuinely interested in me and what I like to do, and they don’t say anything bad about my choice of clothing. It involves some of the items Brandy got for me a while back. To be specific, the same shirt I wore the night Cameron came to my room and was rendered speechless. I may or may not have packed it with him in mind.
Cameron, sitting beside me at the dinner table, holds a hand on my thigh the entire time we all munch on turkey, potatoes, corn, and green beans. Cameron’s family is one that drinks wine at dinner, so despite my aversion to flat alcohol—and that I’m underage— I find myself taking a sip after every four or five bites of food.
There is a tickle at my ankles and I nearly jump out of my seat. A spider! An f-bomb escapes my lips as my fork hits my plate with a clatter. I lift my legs onto the chair. Poor Andrew and Violet. Painted on their face is a mix of confusion and fear.
Cameron laughs, letting out a snort. “It’s just Ocean, babe. Chill out.”
Babe.
“Go away.” He looks under the table and speaks in a voice one might use to address a newborn baby. Higher in pitch and absolutely adorable. “No yummy hooman foods for you.”
My heart swells beneath my skin.
“So, Lainey,” Violet says, gaining my attention over the table. “My son told me you’re a writer.” A vibrant grin takes over her expression. “I’ve had dreams of doing that, but I find myself more logical and less creative.”
“Your list of names for baby Cameron says differently,” Andrew cuts in, laughing.
Violent shakes off the comment despite the pink hue that now colors her cheeks. Her eyes meet mine, and I take it as my cue to speak.
“You can be both. I think logic is necessary to have an understanding of why certain characters act specific ways and make the choices they do. And yes, I’m not quite a writer, but I’m studying creative writing, and I have always been interested. As a kid I used to make silly little books about magic rivers and talking Christmas trees.” Cameron titters, but I finish. “Ever since then I’ve been interested. My ideas are more mature now, though.”
Andrew sets his drink down and beams in my direction. “That’s fascinating, my dear. I do have to say that you are a writer, though. If you still have ideas and still enjoy the work, especially since you are studying it.”
My smile mimics his. “The thing is I have so many ideas, but none are developed enough so it’s been a while, except for school assignments.”
Andrew cocks his head. “You are a writer, and I have no doubt you are a good one.”
The man just met me and has faith in me. I’m about to express my colossal appreciation when Cameron squeezes my neck. “She’ll be a bestseller one day. Then number one. She’ll get a movie deal and be rich and?—”
I jam my elbow into his side. “You’re going to jinx it.”
He slams his lips against my temple and gives me a sloppy kiss. “I’m manifesting it.” He speaks against my skin, and I bite my cheek to keep from sighing. “And who knows what I’ll be.”
You’ll be mine.I want to tell him but don’t.
The wine makes me tired, so at ten I excuse myself early from our nightcap. The only thing I want to do is curl up into those sheets and lay my head on those nice cold fluffy pillows. I take a quick shower because there is nothing better than going to bed all fresh and clean.
Just as I pull on my pair of pajamas, there is a quick knock at the door. Cameron pokes his head in, and immediately a devilish grin spreads across his face.
“My parents love you,” he says as he walks in.
The closer he gets, the more of him I inhale. He smells good, clean and minty, which means he might expect something else to happen. I swallow hard, and he smiles, noticing my anxiety.
“Going to bed?”
I shrug one shoulder. “I don’t know.”
Cameron takes a step toward me. “Can I at least say goodnight before you settle in?”
“Sure.”
“Good.” He clears his throat after his first word comes out a bit hoarse. “You were beautiful today. You wore my favorite shirt. I mean, you’re always beautiful but more so when you’re confident.”
“Confident.” I taste the word. Not what I would use for myself, but if that is the energy I radiate, I should be happy, right? That is something I have lacked for so long. A big part of that has to do with how I feel about my body and the clothes I was always told to wear.
“You doubt me?” Cameron asks. His hand meets my cheek, and he strokes it.
My mouth is glued shut due to his close proximity. Physically will not open. He’s waiting for me to say something. Anything, but all I can do is move my head. Left and right. His index finger tugs at the collar of my pajama top. Then he caresses my braid.
When I finally regain my voice, I say, “You didn’t just invite me over to eat your parent’s delightful food, did you?”
I get my answer when he kisses me fully on the mouth. My hands fly to his face, and I squeeze him harder than I should. He makes a throaty laughing noise that makes me crazy. I pull him even closer, an act of desperation. His hands slide down to my waist. I slip my tongue in his mouth, and he follows my lead as I walk backward to the bed.
He backs away, creating a loud smacking noise when our lips part. “That list of yours,” he says, out of breath. “Maybe we can check off some items right now.”
The second the words escape his mouth, I know exactly what he means. Oh, I’ve had dreams about this…as you are well aware.
“It won’t bother you that I’ve never…gone down on anyone? No one’s ever done it to me?”
He grins, and he bites his bottom lip. “I’ve already told you?—”
I cut him off by slamming my mouth over his. He bites my lip gently and hums a sound of pleasure.
“Do you want to do this?” he asks.
“Yes.” I sit on the bed and steadily pull him on top of me. Once in a lying position, I speak again. “But I’m scared.”
“I’ll be here with you the entire time. We’ll start with simple and make our way to something more. I’ll quite literally do whatever the hell you want me to.”
I press my forehead to his and inhale his minty scent. Mine mixes with his. Winterfrost and spearmint. I love how clean we are.
Dorky nerd.
“Talk dirty to me,” Cameron pleads. “Tell me everything you want to do to me.”
My cheeks burn red. The only thing I want to say to him is that I love him, but those words refuse to come out. “I want to be the best you’ve ever had,” I say instead.
He presses his lips to my ear. “Baby girl,” he whispers, a sexy rasp to his voice. “You already are.”
My ovaries explode. Rest In Peace.
It takes only seconds to undress each other and bury ourselves under the covers. His hand warms my thigh and leaves a burning trail as he slides it higher. “Tell me how sex with Mikey was.”
I choke on the air. “Excuse me?”
He looks me dead in the eye as he says, “Did you even have an orgasm?”
I’m at a loss for words so I shake my head because I can’t take the amount of attention he is giving me right now.
Without a warning he plunges two fingers inside me and I gasp. “Did he do this to you?”
I keep my mouth shut and shake my head again. I resist the urge to tighten my legs around his hand.
Still inside me, he smirks and then lifts one of his eyebrows. The movements have my heart beating rapidly in my chest. “I was jealous of a man who couldn’t even fuck you right. It doesn’t count if you didn’t finish, babe.”
I don’t try to respond to his words. I can’t even come up with any of my own. I am way too aware of his fingers.
He pumps in and out. In and out. “So, Lainey Coleson,” he says with a sweet smile that nowhere near matches his actions right now. “Are you ready to lose your virginity for real this time?”
My heart is heavy. My center pulsing. My back arched. My brain foggy.
I open my mouth and what comes out is “please.”
In an instant his fingers pull out.
“But first,” I start. In this moment there is nothing holding me back. Nothing preventing me from asking him this one question. He did say he’d do anything I want. I think back to the dream I had about him at the beginning of the year. When I was still denying my attraction to him. “With your mouth first.”
His eyes widen and without a response he sinks under the sheets. I close my eyes and relax, taking steady breaths.
You’re in good hands, Lainey.
I know I am.
Almost as if hearing my thoughts, Cameron presses his lips against my inner thigh and then he takes me in his mouth.
I let him take over my thoughts. My senses. I banish my anxiety and focus on him. The peace I feel when I’m with him. And for once in my life I let myself shut my eyes and become completely and utterly relaxed.