Chapter Thirteen - Cameron

Cameron watched Amanda as she read her lines. In rehearsal she had been full of life, and he’d almost believed her character was in love with his. But now, sitting in her kitchen, something had changed. He was pretty sure it had to do with him teasing her about his slip of paper. He had hoped it might open up a conversation about dating—it was driving him nuts not knowing if she was seeing someone. He’d asked around, trying to find out more about her, but no one had seemed to know.

Cameron had been tempted to check on social media, but that would require him requesting she add him as a friend, and the whole point was to check without her knowing. Cameron assumed if Amanda had a boyfriend, it would have come up at some point, but that type of assumption had gotten him into trouble before.

He watched Amanda’s lips as she read her lines. She didn’t look like she wore lipstick, but she didn’t need it. She had a natural beauty about her. Cameron hoped he’d see her smile again before he left—it lit up everything around her when she did.

Cameron was pulled from his thoughts when he realized Amanda was watching him. She was no longer reading lines. “What?” he asked.

“It’s your turn,” she said, looking pointedly at his script. “You’re not even on the right page.”

He looked down. Nope, he wasn’t. Cameron flipped to the correct page, heat rushing into his cheeks. “Do you want to re-read your last line, and I’ll pick it up from there?”

Amanda released what sounded like a frustrated sigh. “Look, if you don’t want to be here, we can be done. I only agreed to this because I thought you were going to take it seriously.”

“And I am,” Cameron said, though he could see how it would appear otherwise from her point of view. He couldn’t tell her he had been distracted by her lips, though. “Maybe I just need a cookie break—to clear my thoughts.”

“Yeah, okay. But just another thirty minutes and then we have to call it a day,” she said. “I have homework I need to get done.” She stood and walked over to the cookies that had been forgotten when their game had abruptly ended.

Cameron followed her over, but she must have thought he expected her to bring a cookie to him at the counter, because when she turned with a cookie in each hand and nearly ran into him, she gasped in surprise and dropped one of them.

“I didn’t realize you had gotten up,” she said, with a tone of apology.

Cameron stooped down and picked up the cookie off the floor, though it was now in several pieces. “Sorry. I just thought I’d help.” They stood close, and he could smell the sweet vanilla scent that he was beginning to associate with her.

“Thank you,” she finally said, her voice not much more than a whisper. She stepped around him. “Can I get you some milk?”

Cameron took another cookie from the tray, so he now had two, and walked back to the counter. “That sounds amazing.”

Amanda avoided his gaze as she poured him a glass and then returned to her stool. They ate in silence for a moment before Cameron mustered up the courage to ask what had been on his mind since arriving. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but it felt like something that needed to be addressed out in the open.

“Are we here alone?”

Amanda choked on her milk, sending it spraying across the counter. She moved to get up, but Cameron beat her to it.

“Don’t worry, I got it.” He ripped off a couple of paper towels and handed one to Amanda before using the other to clean up the milk.

Amanda dabbed at her lips, before saying, “Sorry. Throat spasm.”

Yeah, right.

“It’s okay if we are. I just wanted to make sure it’s okay with your mom. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” He also didn’t want to be chased out of their home. With a gun. Or Rottweilers.

He had heard about Amanda’s dad passing away several years earlier, but that didn’t mean her mom was any less protective of her daughter. If anything, Amanda’s mom was probably more protective now.

Amanda studied her milk for a moment before saying, “We’re alone.”

“Is that why I need to leave in thirty minutes? So your mom doesn’t see me here?”

“No, of course not. She wouldn’t care,” Amanda said, looking up. She almost seemed surprised by the thought, like it hadn’t occurred to her. She then amended her statement with, “Probably.”

Cameron decided to let it rest for now. If she wasn’t worried, he wouldn’t either.

“Would you mind if I stood for my lines?” Cameron asked.

“Not at all. It might help you relax.” As he got to his feet, Amanda jumped from her barstool. “So, we’re at this dance,” she said in a commanding voice as she looked over her script. “It’s nothing fancy because both Scrooge and Belle are poor at this point, but that doesn’t matter to them. Everyone is there to have fun, despite their circumstances.”

“Does it matter what their financial situation is?” Cameron immediately asked and was startled by the level of annoyance in his voice. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, but it bothered him when other people—especially rich people—brought up money. And other people’s lack of it.

Amanda looked at him, surprise etched in her features. “Of course. That’s what the whole book—and this play—is about. Scrooge had been poor—and happy—but in his quest for money and riches, he lost everything. Including the woman he loved.” She paused. “Have you not read A Christmas Carol before?” She asked it slowly, like she wasn’t sure if the question would offend him.

Cameron had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he shook his head slowly, embarrassed by the admission. He knew that was something he should have read by now, but when it had been assigned for his English class the year before, he’d quickly looked it up on the Internet and only read someone else’s summary of it. It had been enough that he was able to do a mediocre job on the assignment. He’d been too busy with swim practices—he hadn’t had the time.

“And I guess you weren’t really paying attention in rehearsal when we read through the entire script?”

Cameron rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t exactly wanting to be there.”

“No wonder you sounded so bored when you read your lines—you had no idea what was even going on.”

“Maybe so, but there’s no need to make me feel more stupid than I already do,” Cameron said.

“I’m not trying to,” Amanda said, sounding exasperated. “I just want to understand where we’re starting from here. Have you at least watched the movie? There’s a dozen different versions of it.”

Again, he shook his head. He hadn’t realized he could feel worse, but he did. What kind of person knew nothing about one of the most famous books in history?

People who were too busy with things that mattered, that was who.

“Well, that’s half the problem right there,” Amanda said. “How can you become a character you don’t understand?” She set her script back down on the counter. “This weekend, we are having a movie night.”

Cameron tried to protest, but all he had time for was to open his mouth, and Amanda had already cut him off.

“No excuses. Invite your friend, Blake—”

“It’s Blair.”

“Fine. Blair. I’ll invite my friends and we’ll turn it into a pizza party or something. But you are watching A Christmas Carol before we go any further.”

He cast another glance around the large kitchen they were standing in. A small table stood next to the large windows, though Amanda seemed much more at ease eating at the counter on her barstool. From what she had said, he wondered if she ate alone often.

He walked toward the windows, and that was when he noticed the clouds that had rolled in when they hadn’t been paying attention. Something else had come as well.

Snow.

The flakes were so small he wouldn’t have noticed them, but judging by the clouds, which were quickly darkening, the snowflakes wouldn’t stay small for long. It was late October, but that didn’t matter. The previous year, they’d had their first huge storm the day before the homecoming dance in September.

“I should text Theresa and have her pick me up,” he said, turning from the window. He noticed Amanda watching him, and he had to force himself to not look away.

“I didn’t mean to take over and act like I know best,” she said, taking a step toward him. “Please don’t leave on my account. We can work through the lines, even if you haven’t read the book.”

“I agree, but that’s not the reason I think my sister should come get me now.”

Amanda’s eyebrow rose. “Why, then?”

Cameron nodded toward the large bay windows. Her lips opened in surprise when she peered out. The snowflakes had already doubled in size and were starting to come faster.

“If I don’t leave soon, I’m not sure I’ll be able to.”

“I see your point.” She frowned. “My weather app sent out a winter storm warning earlier, but it wasn’t supposed to start until late this evening.”

“Guess the clouds forgot to give your app an updated ETA,” Cameron said with a wry smile.

“Did you just make a joke?” Amanda said, grinning.

“I’ve been known to do that from time to time.”

She watched the snow for another moment before walking away from the window. “My Jeep will be better in this kind of weather. I’ll take you home.”

Cameron’s gauge immediately jumped to defensive. “Why, my family’s rundown car not good enough?” He knew it was ridiculous to get mad. Amanda had only spoken the truth—her Jeep with four-wheel drive would absolutely be best in this kind of weather. His mom would still be at work with the truck. But it was just one more way he was reminded they didn’t have what they needed—what his dad deserved after putting in so many long hours at the steel shop.

Amanda’s eyes hardened. “Will you stop accusing me of being a shallow jerk? I haven’t done anything to deserve it.”

Cameron swallowed hard. He wasn’t used to humbling himself—admitting he was wrong. But with Amanda, he felt compelled to. “You’re right. If your offer still stands, I’d love a ride.”

Her features immediately smoothed, and her gaze softened. “I’ll go grab my coat and gloves.”

“I’ll meet you by the door,” Cameron called after her as she walked from the room. Except, she didn’t walk like a normal person—it was like she danced. Her rhythm was so smooth, and every move seemed intentional.

If only he could stop insulting her and being so defensive all the time, she might realize he wasn’t such a bad guy. That he could be a good guy.

The right guy.