So, in theory I should update my chaptered fic. But, I felt like writing, and I felt like being imperfect and I felt like starting my sentences with and. And I felt like starting my sentences with Because and but, and anything else my English teacher would disapprove of. Yeah. But. I don't know. Leave a comment? Tell me it's peaches?
Cammie had always known she was different.
She was born the way she was, and she didn't see a reason to change herself.
She knew from a young age, really.
The other second graders gave her funny looks when she said she would rather play space alien than princess fairy. And well. That made her different. She wore long tube socks and button up shirts rather than frilly skirts, dresses, and polka dot leggings. On the playground, she preferred to sit and watch rather than do cartwheels and the splits. She liked to play soccer out on the field and build towers out of sticks. And the other girls stared at her funny.
In reading class nobody looked to be her partner for partner reading. No one. She ended up with Booger Brian. And he sneezed all over her and Cammie felt like she was going to cry or maybe throw up. And that night she went home and cried into her teddy bear, Stephen, because really. Was she really as bad that she had to be left with Booger Brian?
But she was ok. Really, she was. Because, Stephen understood, even when her parents didn't and the kids at school didn't either. All she had was the small prayer in the back of her head telling herself that she would understand when she was older. People would like her then.
They had to.
/
Fifth grade came and not an inch of improvement had happened. Long tube socks and button up shirts turned into overalls and brightly colored gloves. The girls got meaner, and suddenly not even Booger Brian wanted to be seen next to her. But she didn't need him. Or the mean girls with the short skirts and long eyelashes.
People didn't come near her. It was assumed that she liked it that way. That the overalls and the gloves suggested that she was different. And different people are, well. Different. And they shouldn't be with the normal people. That they didn't want to be with them.
But that was okay. Because, who was Cammie to tell them any differently?
The solution was easy. She could stop wearing overalls hide her gloves deep in her underwear drawer and maybe the other girls would smile at her when she shared her pet turtle, Ralph during show and tell. And maybe they wouldn't glare at her when she went to the advanced math class like she had committed a crime.
But, Cammie couldn't do that. Because Cammie knew she was different. But she didn't see why she should change herself.
But, it didn't mean she didn't hurt.
Everyone hurts.
/
In the sixth grade, Cammie was introduced to the world of Middle School. And she did alright.
Because, yeah. She was different. But, there were people a whole lot weirder than her, that the girls with the even shorter skirts and longer eyelashes liked to pick on. So Camme kept to herself, and stayed away from the other kids, because she had been labeled a loner and that meant she had to be alone.
But maybe she didn't want to be.
She had gone from overalls to long shorts and those same tube socks that she had worn in her younger years.
The button up shirts had gone away forever.
The school took over her senses and filled her world. The eighth graders were frightening and large. The girls had the darkest eyelashes, pushed up breasts, and skin saturated in honey. It was like she was put with an alien species. And suddenly Cammie was back to playing space alien.
But she was older now. And the aliens weren't friendly.
/
In seventh grade a boy named Zachary James Goode moved into her town and transferred into her school.
Cammie had more protection now towards the aliens, but there were still gaps in her armor. and she got stabbed in those gaps. Stabbed by the girls with longs eyelashes and rainbow colored eyelids.
He transferred a month after the year had already begun.
The girls and guys both pounced on him. Because. If he was cool, he would do alright. But, he was cool, and the girls and guys liked that. And they trampled and stomped over each other to impress and lure him into friendship.
And Cammie watched.
The girls started wearing push up bras and the boys left their belts at home. And Cammie thought that maybe things had gone too far.
Zachary, the new boy, wasn't stupid. In fact, he was in Cammie's math class, and she knew he was smart, because he chewed on the eraser of his pencil when he was thinking really deeply. And he didn't have any erasers left.
Zachary Goode was smart.
He sat with the boys with snapbacks on their heads and headphones resting on their necks. He smiled charmingly at the girls with the peach smelling perfumes, and he did alright. He was smart. And Cammie didn't give it a second thought.
He didn't speak to Cammie. That was to be expected, not many people did.
And that was fine. She was fine. Because she got a dog after her turtle died, and she got to take it out on walks every monday, wednesday, and thursday. She was fine, she had her dog. And she was fine.
/
In the eighth grade, Zach talked to her.
They had P.E. together, and the field where they played soccer at was so big, that people couldn't see her when she was on the sideline talking to someone important like Zachary Goode. They had been chosen to set up the goal posts and organize the jerseys while the rest of the class got warmed up.
She had stuck with her tube socks and long shorts. They were comfortable. Nobody said anything about it, so she didn't change it. And she liked it that way.
Until. Until, Zachary Goode changed it.
Because Zachary Goode talked to her.
She moved around the jerseys, sorting through them robotically. Red, blue, blue, red, red, throwing them into the pile that they belonged. He was standing next to her, doing the same thing. Red, blue, red, blue, blue, red. And it was quiet. And that was fine.
Until it wasn't.
"Why do you wear such long shorts?"
Cammie blinked. Because what. Why. And when. Why. Why. Why.
Was Zachary talking to her?
"I like them. They feel nice," Cammie replied. Because that was the truth. Why else would she wear them?
Zach scooted closer to better hear her answer and Cammie thought that he smelled like peppermint and male and it was nice. And she kind of liked it.
"Do you think you have fat legs? You trying to hide them?"
Cammie stared at him hard, because ouch. That was a rude question, and was he implying that she should cover up her legs?
"I don't have fat legs."
"I know that. But why?"
Cammie stared at him again.
And she blinked.
And he blinked back.
And she thought that he rude, and a little bit different.
"I like how they are and I like how I am in them."
"You like how you look?"
"I like how I am."
"You're..." He trailed off and Cammie blinked at him again, but this time he just stared. And he looked like he was thinking really hard. But Cammie couldn't be sure, because there was no eraser for him to chew on.
"What?" Because what was she, that he had to trail off his sentence and furrow his eyebrows in such a way?
"It's just, why don't you dress like the other girls? People would like you better."
Oh.
"I like me." And she did. For the most part.
"But you don't have any friends. You can't be okay with that." His tone was incredulous and his eyes stone. She couldn't see past them. And she didn't know what to say, except for the fact that he was rude and she wanted to look away from his bright eyes and white teeth.
"I'm fine."
And maybe she was. But maybe she wasn't.
"You're..." and he trailed off again, but he didn't back away.
"You're fine?"
"Yes. I'm fine."
Cammie liked his closeness and she liked his smell. And she thought that she would talk to him again. Because. She liked his teeth and his crooked smile. But he was honest. And maybe she didn't like that.
"You're...different."
And then he backed away. Because the other kids were starting to come up to the field, and he couldn't explain why he was talking to Cameron Morgan. And he wouldn't.
"But, you should wear more dresses and stuff. You should like how you are in all clothes." He mumbled before he shuffled away, joining the boys with the snapbacks and the sagging trousers.
"I'm different." Cammie mumbled to herself quietly. The smell of grass overwhelmed her senses and it smelled like confusion.
But that was okay. She was different. Okay. Fine.
/
A week later Cammie came to school with a new wardrobe. She had long dresses with cherries, pineapples, oranges, and other fruits printed on them. She looked like a walking garden. But she was wearing a dress. And the other kids in the school noticed.
"Hey freak! Where'd you get your dress, the garbage can?" The other kids howled in laughter and Cammie simply looked away. Because she liked her dress.
And she made eye contact with Zach in the hallways. His eyes widened like saucers, and a booming laugh erupted from deep inside of him.
And Cammie thought he was kind of like a volcano. Her face heated up and she could taste the embarrassment on her tongue.
But when he stopped to open his mouth and say something, Cammie stopped him with a short curtsey before she twirled away, wondering what other emotions she would taste while with Zachary Goode.
She had bought other dresses. Of course. Some had stripes, others had pictures of old newspapers, and some even had little monkeys dancing. All were different. And Cammie loved it.
She twirled about the hallways, and the mean comments flowed in one ear and out the other. Because Cammie didn't care. Because she had her dresses, and she could smell the happiness that saturated the air.
/
"That's not what I meant when I said you should wear dresses."
Cammie looked up from her papers. It was history class.
"I know."
Then Zach laughed loud and echoed it in Cammie's head, overwhelming her senses. But, maybe it wasn't a bad thing.
But maybe it was.
"Don't laugh at me." And her voice didn't come out angry, because she wasn't. But it wasn't happy either. And Cammie felt the uncomfortable taste of annoyance on her tongue.
And Zachary Goode opened up another door Cammie had kept locked.
"How can I not laugh? I tell you to wear a dress, and you show up looking like a fruit salad. I mean honestly. Honestly. If anything you just made it worse on yourself," He teased, and Cammie had never been teased like this before. It was different.
Because his eyes were sparkling, his smile was crooked, and he was light.
And Cammie wasn't really sure what to do about it. She couldn't twirl away this time. Because she had a paper to write. So.
"I have a paper to write."
"Yeah me too."
"You should go write it."
"No."
And Cammie wanted to stomp her foot or kick him. But she didn't. And she looked at Zach's eyes that were bright, green, and sparkling, and she thought that he was a flirt.
"Why are you talking to me?" Because why was he talking to her. Her eyelashes weren't dark and sultry, her hair was naturally brown, and she didn't want him looking at her chest. So why was he here.
"You're different."
"I know."
"And it doesn't bother you? Being different, I mean."
"Should it?"
Cammie raised an eyebrow at him and thought that maybe he was flirting with her and maybe she was letting him.
"Maybe. I guess not. But, even with all that. You're pretty underneath." and the conversation seemed to die out then. Because, what else was there to say?
"Uhm Okay. Thanks."
"Yeah. Okay."
And Zach left. And he went to chat up a girl named Samantha in the back of the classroom who had a big chest and painted eyelids. And Cammie sighed, and tasted disappointment on the tip of her tongue. But she didn't do anything about it. And she finished her paper.
Zachary Goode didn't say a single word to her the rest of the year.
And that was fine.
But he had called her pretty.
And that was fine. Really.
/
A month after her freshman year Cammie's dad died in a car accident.
Cammie stopped wearing her fruit salad dresses, and her clothing got dark and and her eyes heavy. But she thought it was fitting, and she boxed her dresses away and hid deep within the depths of her closet.
She wore her long hair in a single braid to school, and it bounced every time she walked too fast up and down the hallways.
The girls now had short dresses and heels so high, Cammie wondered if they could see the whole world from up there. Their eyelashes changed colors and so did their lips, but their hate for anything different stayed the same.
The boys were meaner and crude and Cammie thought it wasn't right that they should get rewarded by their friends when they slapped a girl's bum and whistled at the size of their chest.
But they avoided her. Because her dad died, and happy people don't like to be around sad people.
And she saw Zachary Goode in the hallways too. And he slapped girls bums and he sagged his trousers so low, that she knew of every pair of boxers he owned. Even blue ones with the little hole in the back.
And she thought that he saw her too. But he didn't say anything to her and she didn't say anything to him. And that was fine.
And she was fine. She was sad. But she felt like that was okay.
/
It took two months for Cammie to start smiling again.
It took one month and three weeks for the girls with the painted lips and the boys with the saggy pants to start ridiculing her again.
It wasn't much. Usually just a sharp tug to her braid. Or maybe a small shove in the hallway.
Just to remind her. That, she was different, and that wasn't okay.
Cammie was fine with it, of course. She tasted the hatred they felt in the pain in her scalp and the scrapes on her knee. But she accepted it. Because it reminded her of her own loss and sadness. And she this was her normal. And that made it okay. And everything was fine.
Until. Until it wasn't.
Because she kept seeing Zachary Goode.
She didn't mean to. He was just.
He was always there. Just standing, watching, frowning, thinking, looking at her like things weren't okay. And that bothered her. So she looked away from him, and read poetry and painted pictures, and did homework and walked her dog. But, she never looked back.
/
She was outside.
It was lunch. She was allowed to leave campus for high school, and there was this hidden spot behind the school near the edge of the woods where a large willow tree stood proudly. And the sun shined brightly on the grass. And the heat was warm, but not overbearing. And Cammie tasted content and happiness in her body and on her tongue.
And she was basking in it, closing her eyes, humming, and tasting the peanut butter and jelly she had packed herself for lunch. The peanut butter melted on her tongue. And it felt nice.
"What are you doing here?"
Cammie opened her eyes and looked up. She stopped humming.
"What?" She shielded her eyes from the sun and stared up at Zach.
"What are you doing here?" He asked. And his trousers were pulled up to an acceptable height, and he wasn't wearing a hat let alone a snapback, and he was frowning, and he looked down right hateful.
"I'm eating lunch." And that was obvious enough, but Cammie wasn't really sure what else to tell him.
"I can see that. But why are you eating all the way out here?" He asked.
"I like it here."
Zach glared at her.
"Don't do that."
Cammie's eyes widened and she could taste confusion and a dull sadness on her tongue. Her smile was teetering, and Zach's shadow was blocking the warmth of the sun. And her happiness seemed like a memory.
"Do what?"
"Just answer a question by saying because it's what you like!"
Cammie had never tasted bewilderment before. But she didn't have another word for the way she was feeling.
"But, I do like it. What's wrong with that?"
"Goddammit! Everything! Why can't you just be normal? Haven't you ever thought that maybe it was selfish to do whatever you wanted? What about everyone else? What about them!" He just about shouted at her.
And Cammie felt she should shout back, because this felt like an argument. But, she didn't know what they were arguing about, so didn't.
"The others don't care about what I want."
"They would if you would just... God." He ran his hands through his hair and Cammie stood up, because it felt like the right thing to do. And she stared at him, and she waited for him to say something else.
"You don't have to be this way," His voice got softer, and the furrow in his brow deepened.
"If you just changed, people would care about you. If you weren't so..." And then he trailed off and gave Cammie a helpless look. And Cammie thought she understood what he was trying to tell her.
"I like the way I am. I'm not going to change for them." And her voice wasn't firm or aggressive. She was just telling him how she was, and she wasn't going to change. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but Cammie wouldn't let him.
"I'm fine. Really. I'm okay." And she even let the sincerity of it leak into her voice.
But, that only seemed to set him off.
"No, You are not okay! Cammie, your dad is dead! You have no friends, and the idiots you call peers bully you! You are not okay!" This time he did shout at her.
And Cammie felt hurt and anger and the dull ache of pain, loss, and sadness crash into her all at once.
And Cammie's hands shook.
She took a step closer to Zach and slapped him as hard as she could in the face.
The smack echoed in the air as she stepped back and tears leaked out of her eyes. And she stepped back and bit her curled her hands into fists and tried to stay calm because oh god oh god oh god oh god and not now not now not now not now. Cammie gulped and stared at Zach.
"I'm fine."
Zach stared at her and his eyes were hard and determined and he took a step closer to her and grabbed her hand and clutched it tightly with his own.
"You are not okay."
Cammie shook her head, because why was he saying this and why wouldn't he just leave her alone.
"I'm f-f-fine," she mumbled through thick tears.
Zach inched even closer.
"No. You're not."
"You're not okay. But..."
Cammie could feel his breath on her face, and he smelled like peppermint and aftershave and something sweet.
"It's okay to not be okay." And he looked at her now, all close and personal and the sincerity in his eyes made Cammie want to throw up. Because why. Why. Why. Why. He needed to stop. She was crying and he needed to stop. His hand brushed her cheek and it was intimate and uncomfortable and Cammie thought she just might pass out.
"Okay."
He smiled bashfully and took a step back, and Cammie's heart seized up and her nostrils begged for the smell of peppermint.
He shook his head and laughed, letting out a frustrated sigh. And he didn't sound all that amused.
"God, I just... I kept trying to change you. Maybe then it would be okay right?" He was mumbling and Cammie wasn't really sure what he was saying.
"But you're not going to change. And you shouldn't it's...it just. I. It makes things a lot harder." He let out a frustrated sigh and Cammie was all too aware that even though he had stepped back, he was still holding her hand. And her palms were sweaty, and she still had no idea what Zach was talking about.
"Maybe if I..." and he trailed off and he was looking at Cammie again. Really looking at her and Cammie could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
"What? What do you-" But Cammie didn't finish because then Zach was kissing her and she didn't know how to respond except by gripping his hair tightly and letting the taste of peppermint overwhelm her senses.
She pulled back soon enough and buried herself into his shoulder, sobbing. Because she wasn't okay. But maybe that was okay.
Zach held her close and murmured sweet reassurances into her ear and when Cammie stopped crying, he kissed her again. And that was nice.
/
Two weeks later.
And Cammie didn't change for Zach. And Zach didn't change for Cammie.
But they made eye contact in the hallways now, and when they brushed by, he would give her hand a small squeeze that would leave it tingling for the rest of the day. And during lunch they ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and kissed until they had to leave for class.
And Cammie wondered how he still managed to taste like peppermint.
They shared stories about their childhoods, and they talked about their dreams. Cammie wrote him poetry and Zach carved their initials into the trunk of the tree.
And Cammie marveled over not being okay. And being different. And she thought that everyone was different, and that maybe not being okay was okay. And she talked to Zach about it and he smiled and kissed her eyebrow.
And Zach talked about snapbacks and barbies and his hate for saggy trousers and anything with mustard on it, and Cammie wondered how he could be okay with it all. And she thought she had never met someone with such hate and acceptance squished together.
And she thought that he wasn't okay.
And she kissed him on his nose and just below his jaw.
They didn't speak in the hallways, and they didn't partner up in science. Zach's pants still sagged low to the floor and Cammie still wore dark clothing. Zach didn't change for Cammie. And Cammie didn't change for Zach.
And Cammie thought that wasn't okay. But she smiled anyways. Because they had a place under the willow tree. And that was more than fine.
/
During the middle of Cammie and Zach's sophomore year a boy from Italy transferred into their high school class.
His name was Josh.
He had tan skin, white teeth, and kind eyes. All the barbies loved him. As did the snapbacks. But Josh was different. And he was genuine. And shy. And he wore a belt. And he wasn't really sure how to deal with it all.
So he stayed away, and ignored the short skirts and the saggy pants and the other kids shunned him because of it. And they called him nasty names that scared him and hid his gym clothes.
And Cammie watched. And she thought that this kid could have been Zach. But, Zach was keener, and this kid was far too innocent and he didn't understand how things were supposed to be. How they expected him to be.
And Zach watched too. And he could've helped him. But instead he let him struggle.
And during lunch while Zach was kissing Cammie and Cammie was kissing Zach, she thought about the shy boy with the white teeth. And she thought that maybe Zach wasn't okay, and that maybe he wasn't real.
But that Josh kid. He was genuine. And he was real. And the ache to be genuine and real with him tugged at her heart and made her forget how to kiss Zach.
And that day under the willow tree, Cammie and Zach had their first fight. And Cammie learned the taste of heartbreak.
/
"I don't think I can kiss you anymore," Cammie mumbled as she pulled back and sighed. She didn't want to kiss him anymore, and Zach didn't look happy.
"Does my breath stink?"
"No."
"Too much tongue?"
"No. You're a good kisser. I like kissing you."
Zach smiled at her, the sincerity clear in his bright eyes.
"I like kissing you to. But, why can't you kiss me?"
"Because you don't wear a belt. And you wear snapbacks and... I don't think that's alright anymore."
Cammie looked away, not meeting Zach's angry gaze.
"I thought that was okay. I'm not changing for you, and you don't have to change for me, we were okay with that. Right?" He asked, but Cammie didn't answer, because Zach's nostrils were flailing and he didn't really look like he wanted an answer.
"Right?" His question came out as a whisper and he gave Cammie a deflated look.
"That Josh boy is a good kid."
Zach glared and his ears turned red. And Cammie thought he was the most hateful person she had ever met.
"You have got to be kidding me! This is what this is about? That stupid Italian boy? What, you've got a crush on him and suddenly you're willing to drop what we have?" Zach yelled at her.
"He's nice. And you hid his gym clothes. And you trip him in the hallways. That's...that's not right." And Cammie's voice wasn't loud, but it honest.
"Oh come on, Cam. You know me. I don't do those things! I just watch. I don't...I wouldn't, you know that," His voice was quieter and Cammie could hear the pain and the hurt laced into it.
"I know. But you watch. And in the hallways, you don't say hi to me and when your friends trip me, you don't help and I have bruises and scrapes on my knee. And. And. You just watch."
Cammie stared at him helplessly and he stared back with clenched fists. Because he knew that it wasn't okay, but she knew he wouldn't change. Not for Josh. Not for her.
"Cammie," His voice was soft and more fragile than Cammie ever wanted to hear it, "What are you trying to say?"
"I just. Zach..." Cammie trailed off and she lunged forward and kissed him hard. Because she liked Zach.
But that wasn't okay. So she had to fix it. She had to make it okay.
Zach held her tightly and kissed her roughly, kissed her desperately, like he sensed it was the end. She pulled back but held him tightly.
"I want to hold hands with you in the hallways..." Cammie mumbled.
"Cam..." Zach trailed off, and it was sympathetic, but he was stubborn. And he wouldn't let himself be seen with Cammie, the girl with the dead father. He wouldn't budge. And Cammie knew that.
"I know. Okay. I do. But, Josh. He's... he's different. I'm different. And maybe that would make it okay. He doesn't wear snapbacks and he smiles at me in the halls, and makes jokes during English class about the size of Mrs. Liever's glasses. And he calls me Camster and acts like I'm no different than he is."
Cammie smiled sadly at Zach.
"He makes me feel special Zach."
"Don't I make you feel special?" And his voice was sad and desperate and Cammie thought she could see tears in his eyes. But he blinked, and they were gone.
"You do. But, he... He would hold my hand in the halls, and kiss my bruised knees and put little hello kitty band-aids on my cuts and scrapes. And he would help me up and he wouldn't just watch. Sometimes, Zach. Sometimes, you can't just kiss the bad things away like they don't exist."
Cammie smiled sadly at Zach, and Zach looked angry again, but nothing hurtful came out of his mouth. And Cammie wondered who he was angry at.
"I thought that I didn't have to change for you? I thought that was okay. I thought we were okay." His voice shook and he looked like heart break and crying.
"I'm not asking you to change. But Zach. I can't change either. I'm not going to change me. I won't. And that means no more kisses under the willow tree."
Zach nodded and Cammie smiled sadly, because it felt like the end. And he wouldn't make eye contact with her and Cammie could feel him pulling away from her. She could feel him pulling and hiding behind his fakeness. His saggy trousers and his snapback.
"So, this is goodbye?"
"Goodbye, Zach."
/
Cammie and Josh dated all through their sophomore and junior year. That summer going into senior year, Josh met a girl named DeeDee and they broke up.
And Cammie thought she would never stop crying.
Zach had long ago stopped watching her. The snapbacks turned into beanies and even the eyelashes turned fake, but they were longer, and that was pretty to look at. They name calling stopped after Josh and her had first started dating. His eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lip, and he asked if she wanted to go see the nurse. And Cammie threw him a bright smile, because he cared, and he was cute, she kissed him on the lips. And she held hands with him in the hallways.
And Cammie was happy.
But, Zach stopped watching.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when not even the crickets were chirping, she wondered if Zach kissed any other girls now. If he took them out to the willow tree and dipped them under the sun and told them about his dreams.
She didn't go there anymore. It wasn't her place to go, and it felt untouchable. So she didn't touch it, and she didn't go near it.
She thought of him every now and again, but she didn't do anything about it. Because she wasn't going to change herself for him and he wasn't going to change himself for her. And Cammie thought that was fine.
And she kissed Josh in the hallways where she didn't have to hide it from anyone. And things were great.
Until they weren't.
Senior year and Cammie was alone again. Josh had transferred schools, and Cammie was happy for him, because she had never met someone capable of having so much love for another. But she had wished it was her. And not Deedee, with the strawberry smelling perfume and the pink fingernails.
But it wasn't.
And she was alone again. And now she didn't even have the willow tree. So what did she have?
/
With only a month until graduation, Cammie started going back to the willow tree. Because she still had this. These memories and the warm sun and the initials that were still carved into the tree.
And she was surprised to see Zach sitting at the base of the tree holding a book and eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Something deep inside her heart ached at the sight of him, and she swore she could taste peppermint on her lips.
And she thought that maybe if she smiled at him that maybe she could have Zach too.
"Hi."
Zach looked up and squinted at Cammie, even though the sun wasn't in his eyes, and he could see clearly. He squinted like he was trying to see through her, and she thought that maybe he could.
"What do you want?"
"I don't know."
"Why are you here?"
"I don't know."
"Fine."
"Okay."
Cammie stared at him and Zach stared back. He didn't say anything else, so Cammie walked up and sat next to him and asked if he would read aloud. And he did. And she listened to the sound of his voice until she fell asleep.
/
Cammie visited the the willow tree the next day, and there Zach was, eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich and reading from a different book this time.
He looked up when he noticed her presence, but he didn't say anything, so Cammie settled down next to him and laid her head on his shoulder, and he let her.
"Which college are you going to?" He asked, because it was a relevant topic to all seniors and he wanted to say something.
"I'm not. I'm taking a gap year. Going to Europe. Going to see the world. Maybe I'll visit Italy."
And Cammie laughed and Zach laughed too. Until they were both laughing so hard, tears were running down their faces. And it wasn't funny. Not really.
Cammie was clearly still heart broken and fragile, but laughing felt nice, and Zach didn't ask about it, so it was okay. And Cammie could breath a little bit easier.
"What about you?"
"Same. I don't really know what I want to do."
"Yeah." Cammie understood. So she didn't say anything else, and they sat in silence, feeling the sun warm their skin.
"You know what?"
Cammie took her head off his shoulder and turned to look at him.
"What?"
"When all this is over, high school, I mean. When it's all over, we won't have to change anymore. We can just be. You know? There won't be anyone else but ourselves to trip on. Everyone else will be gone. It won't matter." And his voice held wonder and regret and something else Cammie could't identify.
"I think that's not true."
"Why not?"
"It's just. We're always changing."
"But, Cammie. We don't have change for them."
Cammie cocked her head to the side curiously and stared at Zach through aged eyes.
"I've never changed for them."
Zach nodded and grimaced, because yeah. That was true.
"I know."
And they kissed under the willow tree. And Cammie smiled into his lips and felt sadness and happiness and heartbreak and every other emotion she could think of. And it was all overwhelming and scary and it tasted like peppermint.
And yeah. Cammie knew she was different. She was who she was and didn't see a reason to change that.
And things were scary and things were bad.
And things weren't okay and they weren't fine.
But.
That was okay, and maybe she wasn't fine now.
But she would be.
And that was okay.
Really.
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Also read my other stuff. Because I they have these author's notes so you can advertise your work and leave notes.
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Okay.