Camden made no mention of the vague way things ended last night and was back to being his friendly self which made me feel like a moronic, crush-bound girl. One nice date and I’m overanalyzing shit, dissecting every word and look, trying to figure out what it really meant. He probably didn’t want to make any false promises at the end of a date and decided to take things as they came. I used to have a guy mentality like that and I wondered where it had gone. Being Ellie Watt seemed to bring about a lot of regression.
“So, are you ready to start Camden and Ellie’s Day of Fun?” he asked, taking the bucket back from me. Back in high school we used to have these days, usually on Saturdays. All the cool kids would hang out and do their parties and shit like that, so we just decided to create days where we did anything we wanted, preferably weird and random stuff like raiding thrift stores and making the other person buy an outfit of our choosing, taking his dad’s guns and shooting our failed art projects out in the desert, or pretending one of our teachers was a spy and trailing them all over town. For the year that Camden and Ellie’s Day of Fun lasted, it became our favorite day of the week. And yes, being that it was the late ‘90s, we totally ripped that phrase off from our favorite show, Friends.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” I told him as we walked out of the shop and down the way to our spot. I’d been golfing a few times before, but I was terrible. People with anger management issues and impatience do not a good golfer make. I swing at the ball way before I’m ready and then I throw my club and scream. A driving range would be a lot easier since we wouldn’t be holding anyone up, but still. If I had been in charge of our day of fun, this wouldn’t have been the first choice.
He put his hand on my shoulder for a moment and gave a warm squeeze that reached all the way into my chest.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. This isn’t about getting the ball as far as it can go.”
“No?” I asked, trying to hide the disappointment in my face as he took his hand away.
He shook his head. “Nope. This is about taking control. It’s about controlling yourself, getting into that tiny moment in which you can make things happen. It’s hard to channel everything you have into Titleist, but when you do, you get…I don’t know…Zen.”
“I didn’t know you were such a golfer, Camden.”
“I’m a lot of things, but a golfer isn’t one of them,” he said with a laugh. “I just like swinging the club. When you take the pressure off and just go for it, it does wonders for your anger.”
I chewed on my lip. “You have anger? You’re like steady as a rock.”
He laughed again but it didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his hand through the sides of his hair and looked away. “I’m glad it seems that way. You kind of need to be as steady as something when you have my job.” He mimicked holding a shaking tattoo needle.
We took our spot at the range a few sections down from the other golfers like troublemakers who sat at the back of the classroom. I told him he was swinging first, and he responded by taking two cold beers out of his backpack.
“First things first,” he said, handing me a beer. “In order to get into the Zen zone, you have to be calm. Beer always helps.”
We clinked the bottles together and then quickly hid them when a curious golfer looked our way. I stepped closer to him to get out of the golfer’s range of sight, and by doing so, my head was almost at Camden’s chest. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply.
Crap. I hope I was subtle about that creeper move.
Camden lowered his head and I was too afraid to look up. I could feel his lips burning just inches away from the top of my head.
I cleared my throat and spoke into his pecs. “Well now that beer is involved, it looks like this will be Camden and Ellie’s Day of Fun after all.”
“What was it before?” he murmured. His words ruffled my hair, causing the skin on my scalp to tighten pleasurably.
“Camden and Ellie’s Day of Assault with a Golf Club.”
I could feel him smile. “Once a spazz, always a spazz.”
I put my hand on his chest and pushed myself away from him, ignoring how hard it was beneath my fingers, how I could feel his heart thumping hard. I gave him a wry look and took a long sip of my drink.
“I’ll have you know I only spazz when it’s called for. And if any game calls for it, it’s golf.”
He raised his brows and said smoothly, “Well then you better drink faster.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice.
I was as bad as I thought I’d be. The first few swings were a little rough. I mean, I totally missed the ball. Not even close. And that’s when I could feel the waves of anger pushing up through my limbs, wanting some form of release.
I tightened the grip on the club and bit hard on my lip. I briefly shot Camden an embarrassed look and he slowly shook his head.
“Aren’t you going to tell me to be the ball or something?” I asked, trying to push the frustration away. Christ, I was a spazz, wasn’t I? I wished I could take some of the Kava pills I had in my bag without looking like a total junkie.
“Just…stop caring what I think,” he said.
I grunted and looked down at the ball, trying to line my club up properly. “I don’t care what you think.”