“I’ve been subjected to piano lessons my whole life,” I explained dully. “My last
piano teacher ran off crying after accusing me of purposefully being tone-deaf. She had a
nervous breakdown.”
Cameron’s eyes widened, and suddenly a full bellowed laugh escaped him. It was so unexpected,
that I took a step back.
I noticed something different about Cameron—something that had been there since he had arrived
that morning, something that had only intensified since he had come to meet Rocco and me by his
car. His cheeks were slightly flushed. The tired and anxious creases around his eyes were almost
gone. He looked decidedly younger.
It was like a mask had been taken off … or put on—I couldn’t be sure … but I liked it more
than I ought to. We headed back through the foyer and down the stairs to the lower level.
“How old are you, Cameron?” I wondered aloud as we walked into a den.
“This is where the guys hang out when they’re not working,” he explained. The space had
everything to keep overgrown children entertained: a stocked kitchen, ping-pong and pool table,
a big screen TV, and a wall of movies and video games. It also had patio doors that opened up
onto the pool outside.
“Are you avoiding my question on purpose?” I put to him.
“What? Oh, I’m twenty-six,” he answered, distracted.
While my thoughts were trying to process how my twenty-six-year-old tour guide slash kidnapper
could afford the mansion I was sightseeing, we were making our way down another hallway.
“Some of the night guards sleep in here,” he whispered, pointing at the bedroom doors that
were closed. I could hear off-tempo snoring and wheezing through the door.
At the end of the hall was a pumpkin orange, fully equipped gym with windows that looked out
onto the pool.
There were also two men in the middle of the room and a large opened box next to them.
“It’s a high-speed treadmill,” Cameron proudly announced. “You know, so that you can still
do the same stuff you normally do.”
We paused to watch the confused men arguing over the instructions manual, surrounded by pieces
of something.
“Well,” he added, “it will eventually be a treadmill.”
When I had figured out that this gift was meant for me to use while I served my indefinite
sentence, I said thank you, put an unadulterated smile on my face, and followed him out to the
pool.
By that point, I had so many questions for Cameron that I didn’t even know where to start. My
jumbled thoughts were only worsened by the luminous smiles he kept throwing my way. I didn’t
understand any of it and it was hardly a fair fight.
We rolled up our jeans, and plunged our feet into the cool water. Cameron peered over my knees
with a huge grin on his face.
“What?” I stuttered.
“I’m looking for that weird toe you were telling my brother about,” he chuckled and glanced
back at my face.
“News sure travels fast around here,” I mumbled, red spots speckling my cheeks.
“Rocco thought it was pretty funny,” he said with a shrug. “Why did you name your teddy bear
Booger?”
“It’s not a very good story,” I stalled.
“Try me,” he pressed.
I sighed, “Booger was my brother Bill’s bear before it was mine. Bill had already named him
Booger before he gave him to me.”
Without blinking, Cameron moved on from my boring story to another one. “And your favorite book
is Rumble Fish. Isn’t it a bit childish for you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never read it.”
“It looked used,” he challenged.
I glared up. “You mean the copy that you found hidden under my pillow in my room?”
He nodded and shamelessly grinned.
“I keep trying to read it, but never get past the front cover,” I explained. When I peered up,
I saw the confused look on his face.
I sighed again. “I had just finished reading the first chapter when my brother died. Now I can
’t seem to pick up where I left off and move on to the next chapter.” I could feel the golf
ball rolling around in my throat as I said this.
The look of discomfort on Cameron’s face was one of the reasons I avoided talking about Bill.
There was always that point when people hesitated, trying to find the right thing to say, only
to realize that there was nothing that they could say to make it better.
Cameron simply moved back to the safe, but boring story. “Did Booger ever recover from the
ironing incident?”
I mirrored his sly smile. “My nanny Maria sewed a button on top of the melted eye, but it was
too big and the wrong color. Booger never looked at me in the same way again.”
I realized my mistake as soon as it was out of my mouth. I never used the word nanny; people
automatically associated it with the words trust fund.
But Cameron thankfully didn’t seem to notice—though I still couldn’t fathom why he’d want to
hear about a bear called Booger.
“Where’s Booger now?” he asked, enjoying himself.
“On my bed, in my parents’ house.”