Camping? Cameron
Chapter thirty-six
This camping trip was supposed to cheer me up, but I wasn’t feeling it, despite the fresh air and sunshine.
The campgrounds were between Goat Mountain and Lover’s Butte, above the lake.
There were small rivers great for fly fishing, if you were into that.
I’d done it before, but it wasn’t really my thing.
I preferred sitting on the bank, tossing in a line, then bullshitting with a good friend while we waited for the bobber to go under.
If it never did, I didn’t care either way.
It was more about the company, but I wasn’t fit company for anyone right now.
Particularly, Brock and Eddy, who were loading camping equipment into the back of Brock’s truck.
Eddy scowled at me. “Hey, I’m not exactly excited about this, so maybe you can come and help?”
“I guess. Yeah, sure.” Normally, I was the first to jump in, but I’d been more about wallowing in my pain the last few days. Pitching in would at least get my mind off of him.
Eddy handed me a couple of fishing poles and a tackle box before grabbing a cooler and stomping off to the truck. We worked together and once the truck was loaded, I crawled into the back seat, with Eddy in the front and Brock driving.
“So…” Eddy turned and looked back at me with one eyebrow cocked.
“So what?”
“Leave him alone, Eddy,” Brock added.
Eddy snorted. “If I’m being dragged out to Mount Goat-butt, I think I deserve to know.”
“Goat-butt?” I asked. Where had he come up with that from?
“Eh. Goat Mountain plus Lover’s Butte, but my version sounds better.” He stuck his tongue out at me.
I almost smiled. “Goofy.”
“Whatever. Now spill.” He made grabby hands.
“Spill what?”
“What is going on with Everett Lundy?” he huffed. “And you?”
I sighed. “All I ever did was try to help him, and he accused me of gaslighting him.”
“Isn’t that over?” Brock asked. “Thought you had already made up about that.”
“Me too, but I guess it’s still bothering me. I’ve never done that to anyone.”
“Your feelings are hurt?” Eddy looked more sympathetic now.
“Yeah. And he’s like a yo-yo. A grumpy-scowly yo-yo.”
Brock shook his head, but Eddy wasn’t leaving it at that. “What do you mean?”
“One minute he likes me, the next he doesn’t. Then after telling me he’d hooked up with the asshole doing all this, he thanks me for saving his life with a blow job. A blow job! Can you believe that?”
Eddy’s eyes went wide. “Seems like an appropriate thank you to me.” I scowled, and Eddy turned back around in his seat.
But we hadn’t even made it out of town before he turned back to face me again, looking between the seats.
“So, he thought you were fucking with him, but he got to know you and doesn’t feel that way now, right? ”
“Only because we caught the guy who really was fucking with him.”
“Are you sure about that, because it seems like maybe he already changed his mind before that. Isn’t that what Brock said?” He stuck his thumb out at his boyfriend.
“I don’t know. But what if he changes his mind again?”
“What if he does?”
“He could decide to go back to the city. He has more than enough money to make that happen.” Thanks to me and the website I set up for him. Wasn’t that a brilliant idea? Now he was going to leave me. “If he wanted to, he could open up in Sacramento now.”
“Nah…he loves you,” Eddy crooned.
“Exactly,” Brock chimed in.
“Bullshit.” He didn’t know me enough to love me. Did he? Did I love him?
“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
“How about we just focus on the camping shit?” I was done with the conversation.
“Sure.” Eddy turned around again.
Brock muttered something under his breath, but I was determined to stay off the subject and maybe keep busy this weekend. “We could drop down to the lake and go fishing tomorrow? I’ll fry up a batch if we catch any cat.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Brock sounded happy for the first time since we started loading up.
“Are we going to have s’mores?” Eddy asked.
“S’mores and beer?” I asked.
“Whatever you want,” Brock answered.
They were two of my favorite people. I could maybe be good company for them.