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Cameron

I didn't even try to question why Olive pushed past me today without saying a word to me. For a few days now she'd been avoiding me, not looking in my direction, sitting on opposite sides of the room from me, and not bothering to return my texts.

“PMS?” Armando asked, watching as she blew past us in the hallway again.

“Olive doesn't have PMS,” I said, turning back to my locker and shoving books into it. “Trust me; I've known her long enough to know.” Olive and I shared so many things with each other, it was ridiculous. I was the only one who knew what the birthmark on her butt looked like or her OCD on turning the light switch on in her room. She knew about my old crush on Mrs. Fields the lunch lady, and how I'm terrified of buses.

The only thing she doesn't know is that I'm in love with her.

Armando stood there, avoiding my eyes. “She's just weird. You know how girls are.” He laughed awkwardly.

I stared at him, narrowing my eyes. “Do you know something?” I asked him, closing my locker. “Did Hudson say anything about Olive to you?”

Armando shook his head fervently. “I know nothing,” he said, backing away from me. “Just guessing, that's all.” He spun around and disappeared out the school doors.

Before I could follow his lead, I felt a hand brush against my shoulder. I turned around and saw Anjolie standing there, wearing a simple white V-neck shirt and gray jeans. Her white-blond hair fell in ringlets down her back. “Hey, Sloane.”

“Hi, Anjolie,” I said, smiling at her.

“Whatcha up to?” she asked, shoving her pale, slender fingers into her jeans pockets. Her arms were so skinny, they looked like railings.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder. “Going home,” I answered her. “Probably shooting some hoops or something.”

Anjolie nodded. “That sounds fun. Mind if I come with?”

Anjolie wanted to come to my house? That was like the Pope wanting to go clubbing at a rave or something — completely unheard of. But then I realized that I wasn't the old, shy, afraid-of-people Cameron anymore. Somehow, I was cool. Anjolie of
course
would want to come over.

“Sure!” I said, maybe a little too excitedly.

The two of us fell into step as we walked out of the school and into the parking lot. Immediately, I headed for my car. But then I stopped myself. “Did you want to follow behind me in your car?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “I don't have a car, surprisingly enough,” she said, smiling up at me. Her eyes squinted in the sun. “I'm doomed to walk to school forever.”

I laughed. “I know the feeling,” I said, a little astonished that Anjolie didn't have a car. Everyone at my school had a car. Having a car was almost as important as having a pulse. “But eventually your time will come.” I didn't get a car until this year, thanks to Dad. I'd felt so isolated and nerdy. Olive got her red Slug Bug when she turned fifteen so I was stuck riding around in the passenger seat as she drove us to school. I would never forget those embarrassing memories.

I motioned for Anjolie to follow me and we walked up to my car. We slung our stuff into my backseat and then buckled ourselves in.

“Do you live close to school?” I asked her when we turned onto the road.

Anjolie shook her head. “Not too close. I live too close for a bus but too far to walk. A car would come in handy but…”

“But what?” I asked, glancing over at her.

She just shrugged her shoulders. “I'm adopted. They have kids of their own. No need to help me out.” When she said “they” I knew she was talking about her adoptive parents.

“I didn't know you were adopted,” I said, taking a left turn onto my street. “I am, too.” Anjolie was the only other person I knew that was adopted and finding out this information made me feel a lot closer to her.

“At least you're the only child.” Anjolie said it mostly to herself as she stared out the passenger-side window.

I decided to not pester her anymore about her adoption as I pulled up on the curve of my driveway. I knew she didn't necessarily like her situation and I wasn't about to make her tell me every detail. One of these days I'd learn more about her life, but today we were going to play basketball.

Cameron

Upstairs, I sped through my homework, completing problems and essays at the speed of light. After a half hour of that, I jumped into the shower, splashed on soap and water, jumped out, and got dressed into an old shirt and pajama pants. Then I arranged my clothes for tomorrow, cleaned my room, and then finally ran down the stairs.

I got downstairs at six thirty. I had only a half an hour left.

When I walked into the dining room, my jaw dropped. On the table, tons of dishes were set out. There were two casseroles, several vegetable dishes, bread rolls, mashed potatoes, and a pile of steaks right at the center. Four place settings were set out and there were candles lit surrounding the steak.

“The candles were Mila's idea,” Anjolie said, dropping the dish towel onto the countertop. “She said it would look a lot classier.”

“Wow, Anjolie, this is amazing,” I said, scoping out the variety of food as my mouth watered.

Anjolie shrugged nonchalantly, but she smiled anyway. “Mila's in the kitchen baking some cookie thing for dessert.”

“Can't wait,” I said but my voice sounded hesitant. How was I going to eat all this food and the dessert in less than a half hour? I had to somehow excuse myself from the table, say goodnight to Anjolie, and then end up in my bed before I was out.

And I had to do all of this without looking like an idiot host.

“Did you hear what I said?” Anjolie asked, placing her hand on my arm. She stared up at me with her concerned gray eyes and I instantly felt like crap for not listening to her.

Anjolie noticed my expression and repeated what she'd said. “I invited Armando and Hudson. They said they'd be here soon.”

“What?” I couldn't help but cry out. Why would Anjolie do that? They couldn't come over! I was about to blackout any minute now! What was I going to do?

The doorbell rang. Crap!

“I'll get the door,” Anjolie said, smiling at me. I couldn't help but smile back.

Armando and Hudson walked into the house, setting their coats onto the coat rack. “It smells so good in here!” Hudson said, closing her eyes and smelling the aroma. Armando agreed with her as he draped his arm around her shoulders.

Anjolie shut the door and joined us. “Everyone to the kitchen!” she cried out and then she bounded away like a fairy, her hair bouncing around with every step.

“Hi, guys,” I greeted. “Thanks… for coming.” I was in no mood to play polite right now but I knew I had to. It wasn't their fault that I blacked out every night. As far as they knew, I just didn't get out much.

I had twenty minutes left before blackout time.

“This looks great!” Hudson said, admiring the food on the table. “I can't wait to dig my paws into this fantabulous meal!” She sounded so perky and innocent as Armando pushed her chair in.

We all took a seat.

The dinner party-thing was going okay once everyone began talking like old friends. But still, everyone sort of ate and talked awkwardly. I mean, could you blame them? Hudson almost never came to my house and neither did Anjolie. I've never hosted a dinner party before and by the looks of things, it looked like this was a double date.

As if noticing this at the same time I did, Hudson asked, “Where's Olive?”

Hearing Olive's name instantly had me thinking about her again. I hadn't really spoken to her for a few days now even though I had no clue why she hated me. Even Abby doesn't greet me whenever we run into each other. Olive must've been saying things to her that were no doubt false and I had to just stand around and watch.

“She's not joining us today,” I said quickly, shoveling mashed potatoes into my mouth.

Hudson stared at me skeptically with her mahogany-colored eyes. “Why not?”

“She's mad at me,” I said, not really wanting to have this conversation right now. Of all people who should know why she wouldn't be here, it should be Hudson, her best friend. Definitely not me.

“Why?” Hudson asked, not picking up on my irritation.

“I don't know.”

“Why not?”

“She didn't tell me.”

“What did you do?”

“He doesn't know!” Anjolie piped up, dropping her fork on the table loudly. “Clearly Olive is having some issues. She decided to be a girl about it and not even confront him. None of this is Cameron's fault so give it a rest.” She stared harshly at Hudson for a few seconds before turning to her meal.

Hudson stared back at her, shock in her eyes. “Wow, Anjolie, chill,” she finally said, and then she, too, went back to her meal.

After a few more minutes of awkward talk, I looked at the clock. Six-fifty.

When I looked at everyone's plate, I realized that they were nowhere near close to finished. And I was running out of time.

The sound of the doorbell ringing made me jump a mile into the air. “Who's that?” I asked, my gaze landing on Anjolie. I prayed that she hadn't invited anyone else.

Thankfully, Anjolie shrugged her shoulders. I dropped my napkin and bounded over to the door. When I swung it open, Olive was standing there.

“Olive!” I said, my expression immediately softening. Olive was here, at my house. Apparently she had something to say which meant that we were going to make up now or at least I'd find out what was wrong.

She stood there, biting her lip, pulling her red zipper hoody closer to her body, shielding off the cold. Her dark hair swung effortlessly in the wind and her brown eyes stared up into mine, hypnotizing me.

“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.