Hush (17 page)

“So what prompted you to say it to Nate?” Maggie asks.

Cam considers how to say something without telling her any­thing. “You know I said I can’t say anything,” he starts.

“Well it’s not a secret that there is someone,” Maggie points out. “You kicked Nate out to have a lot of sex.”

“How do you know it was a lot?” he says with a smile.

“A lot of great gay sex,” Maggie teases.

“Shut up,” Cam blushes.

“So—”

“He was talking about when he came out. And how liberating it was just to say the words. And I’ve been thinking… about how I was for so long. Being me, as you said.”

“Yeah,” Maggie says softly.

“You… Nate… just stuff. I’m just… so much,” he trips over his words. He has no idea how to articulate how much this new life has changed him. The room brightens suddenly with spilled light, shining over Maggie’s hair and highlighting her smile.

“Stuff.” She picks up her coffee and wrinkles her nose, but takes another sip. “That’s just it.”

Cam takes the coffee out of her hands and stands up. “Let’s go get something good,” he says.

“Perfect,” she says and follows him out.

“I’m happy for you,
with
all the sex and all,” Nate says Saturday afternoon, “but can I bring Ellie here tonight after our date?”

“Yeah.” Cam shrugs easily. “I don’t have plans.”
Yet
. He shoots Wren a quick text, just in case, because Wren doesn’t like to be surprised.

I have a thing tonight
, Wren texts back immediately. Cam is sur­prised to feel a pang of jealousy in his stomach.

Have a good time,
he texts back, trying to appear nonchalant.

Study group is never a good time
, Wren sends back, and the answer calms Cam. Would sending a smile back send the wrong mes­sage? Fuck that. He does it anyway. He’s not the one with the prob­lem con­necting. Maybe slow and steady and persistent will wear Wren down.

Saturday night studying at the library holds a lot less appeal when he has less to research and no hope of Wren coming in. He texts Maggie, but apparently she has study group too. Cam frowns—is he the only one who doesn’t have exams soon?

Boring,
he texts her.
You know you’d rather hang out with me
.

You are fun
, she texts back,
but so are good grades.
She has a point.

Is there anyone else he can cajole into hanging out? It’s weird; a year ago he wouldn’t have minded the solitude. Now, he’d love company, but there are not many people he feels comfortable text­ing out of nowhere. Most of his friends, other than Maggie and Nate, are really their friends and his acquaintances. He considers going for a run, but that won’t work when he can’t come back to the room. Not that he could run that long, anyway. He tosses his phone on the bed with a sigh.

“Everything cool?” Nate asks. He’s picking up his half of the room, which makes Cam smile. Not only has Nate mentioned Ellie several times, a complete anomaly for him, but he’s also putting in
effort
. Cam doesn’t say anything, though. There’s a fine line with Nate as well.

“Oh yeah,” Cam says. “Just figuring out what to do tonight. Apparently everyone has study group. Who has study group Saturday nights?”

“This coming from the guy who used to spend every Saturday in the library voluntarily?” Nate observes.

“Touché,” Cam says. “And shut up. I’m awesome.”

“Never doubted it,” Nate says. “Seriously, are you okay with me booting you for the night?”

“Definitely,” Cam says. “I’m a big boy. Maybe I’ll go see
Frostbite Bay
. No one else seems into seeing it.”

“That’s ’cause it sounds super boring, dude. Can’t you go do a nor­mal thing and go see something with explosions or hot chicks?”

Cam laughs, and although it takes Nate a moment, he does too. “Well, okay, hot guys maybe.”

“I guess I’m just boring at heart.” Finished with studying,
unlike some people,
Cam packs his books into his backpack carefully.

Nate shoots him an unreadable look and shrugs. “If you say so.”

Cam opens his mouth to ask what that means, and then lets it go. Everyone thinking they know more about him than he does is getting old. It makes him feel supremely stupid.

You’re not answering
your phone

Cam looks down at the screen of his phone. It’s Peyton, but he really doesn’t want to interrupt himself.

At the movies

With mystery date?

No, on my own

Boring

Cam sighs.

Why does everyone think I’m boring?

I don’t. That just sounds like a boring Sat. night

I was rather enjoying it until you started harassing me

Cam flips his phone over and tries to refocus. His phone vibrates with a new text.

Whatcha watching?

Frostbite Bay

Oh, good one! Saw that the other day,
she responds immediately, which makes him smile. Peyton is the least boring person he knows—well, maybe second least boring, now that he knows Wren—so her endorsement makes him feel a bit better about his Saturday night choices.
I’ll let you watch then, now that I approve

Cam smiles wryly and sends her a wink before focusing on the movie.

“Still soxiled?”
Maggie’s voice comes
over the phone. She sounds a little worn.

“Yes,” Cam sighs. He’s been wasting time at the coffee shop for an hour now hoping to get the all-clear from Nate.

“Well, we’re all tired of studying. One can only study philosophy for so long.”

“That sounds horrible. And you all say I’m boring,” Cam says.

“You voluntarily went to see a movie about Iceland,” Maggie points out.

“Anyway,” Cam changes the subject. He’s finished his coffee and is debating another. It’s late enough for more caffeine to be a bad idea, but he’s bored and fiddly and tired. “What’s up?”

“Where are you? Not the library again, I hope.”

“Shut up,” he says lightly. “The library is awesome. I am an intelligent, articulate individual thanks to the library.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Maggie says. “Anyway, you want com­pany? A few of us are wired but done with this, and I know you aren’t home.”

“That would be great,” Cam says gratefully. “I’m at Roast, wanna meet here?”

“Hold on,” she says. She must be pulling the phone from her mouth, because she sounds farther away. “You guys wanna meet a friend of mine at Roast?” He doesn’t hear the response, but she says, “Yep, we’ll see you there in a few.”

“How many? I’ll grab a bigger table,” Cam offers.

“Five? I think five,” she says.

“Awesome. See you soon.” Cam hangs up and eyes the room. The café is half full, but the scattering of customers makes it hard to find a table for six. No one seems inclined to leave and, although he waits a few minutes, no one does. He gives up, stands and pulls a few tables together. It’s loud and earns him a few glares, but he just shrugs and carries on.

“You seem to be missing
a few,”
Cam points out when Maggie tumbles in with two other people in tow. One introduces himself as Steven (not Steve, he clarifies severely). The other, Nora, is tiny, barely five feet tall, a lovely girl with an odd mix of facial features that somehow work magically together. Cam blinks when she smiles at him brightly.

“The others are coming along—Wren had to stop for cash,” Maggie says; Cam blinks and tries very, very hard not to gape.

“Say what?” he manages. Nora, who had been pulling up a chair, gives him a strange look. Pasting on what he hopes appears to be a somewhat normal facial expression, Cam follows with, “How many? I want to be sure we have enough chairs.” It’s a lame excuse, but he’s thinking fast. How many Wrens can possibly be attending their school? Maggie says something and he nods as if he’s listening, then takes a deep breath and calms enough to pay attention.

“Cam,” Nora asks, “are you a student here too?”

“Yes, I’m in environmental studies.”

Nora is still looking at him intently. She takes inventory of his face and clothes, but in an unfocused way. Her gaze trails up above his head. He does his best not to stare back at her, because there’s something unsettling about the way she’s examining him. After a long, slightly uncomfortable pause, her face clears and she smiles.

“That sounds interesting. I’ve never met anyone in that pro­gram. What are you hoping—” she’s cut off by the ring of café bells signaling someone’s entrance, and Cam doesn’t have to turn to know it’s Wren. He’s never been more thankful for advance warning, or for his ability to put on a stoic face. He’ll have to write Peyton a thank you letter for all the chaos she put him through when they were kids. At least because of that storminess, especially during their adolescence, he’d learned to create a shell around himself that projects calm.

Wren settles kitty-corner from him. There’s no hitch in his gaze or discernible change in his expression—it’s really impressive. Wren probably had a little warning, though; Wren told him that he’s gotten very good at sensing Cam’s energy from a distance. Cam shakes other guy’s hand—Logan—and then Wren’s when Maggie introduces them. It’s easy to act as if he’s never met him—easy because they’re both pretending, and because Cam only needed a moment to know that blowing this would make Wren run away.

It’s really fucking challenging, though, to suppress his reaction to the bolt of energy that runs between their hands when they shake. Cam sees a fraction of his own disturbance in the slight dilation of Wren’s pupils. Otherwise, he’s excellent at containing his reaction. Cam doesn’t do that badly either, other than the slight tremor that runs through him. But when he glances at Maggie, who knows his face better than anyone else, all he sees is amusement. She gives him a little thumbs up that’s not nearly so subtle as she probably imagines, as if she thinks he’s just checking Wren out. He rolls his eyes as she’d expect him to, and next to Wren Nora suddenly bursts into laughter.

Wren gives her a dirty look and she just smiles, keeping her eyes on his for a long beat. Wren turns away from her. “I’m thirsty,” he says, and stands suddenly. “Does anyone want anything?”

“Yeah,” Maggie says, standing too.

“Oh, I can get it,” Wren assures her, but she just shakes her head.

“I don’t know what I want,” she explains.

“I do,” Steven says. “Just medium coffee, black, one sugar.” He speaks briefly and Cam tries not to stare. Steven is remarkably monochromatic, down to his oatmeal-colored T-shirt and faded, loose jeans that do nothing for him except help him blend into the wall.

“So,” Nora says, interrupting his thoughts, “I was asking about your major.”

“Oh, it’s a pretty boring story,” he hedges. “What about you guys? Philosophy or something?”

“Philosophical Perspectives,” Logan pipes up. “It’s one of those electives you have to pick to fill a requirement.”

“That sounds…” Cam tries to think of something less rude to say than
That sounds boring as hell
. And they call him the boring one!

“Boring as hell?” Logan says; Cam has to laugh.

“Are you a mind reader?” he jokes.

“I wish. I’d just read the professor’s mind and not have to study for this fucking test.”

“That’s a good point,” Cam says.

“Does it even work like that?” Steven says.

“What?” Cam asks.

“Does mind reading work like that? You know. For
them.
” There’s some­thing a little ugly in the way he emphasizes the last word.

“Like what?” Nora looks up from where she’s been unwrapping a brownie she snuck into the café in her bag.

“You know, just being able to see into people’s heads?” Steven clarifies. “That creeps me out. Never knowing what the hell those people might be able to do. Where they could be.”

Cam frowns. “Gifted people aren’t that common, population-wise. I’d never even heard of them before I came here,” he says.

“Did you live under a rock?” Steven asks.

Cam shrugs. He’s not about to explain himself or his history to this guy. Maggie’s back, with a hot tea in her hands.

“So how are you now an expert?” Steven probes.

“When Cam doesn’t know something,” Maggie jumps into the conversation, “he researches it.”

Cam cringes internally because that makes him sound lame, but smiles self-deprecatingly. “Guilty as charged.”

“Hmm,” Steven says. “You know, a lot of people don’t think
they
should be allowed to just wander around unknown or unrestricted.”

“Personally, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”

“That’s because you’re not from here,” Steven argues. “This city is like, gifted Mecca. There are so many of them here, how could you not worry? Think about how dangerous it really is. They could do anything if they wanted.”

Nora has been following the conversation with narrowed eyes; she seems about to say something when Wren jumps in.

“Who could do anything?”

“People who have gifts,” Nora supplies, and smiles when Wren’s face tightens.

“Cities like this offer protection,” Wren says. “There are safe­guards and regulations that protect everyone.”

“That’s what you think,” Steven says derisively.

“Oh, it’s much too late for this,” Nora interrupts. “We were talk­ing to Cam. Getting to know him.”

Cam feels put on the spot but goes along. Wren doesn’t ask him personal questions, as a rule; Cam often wishes he would, or that Wren
wanted
to, because he wants to know every­thing about Wren. “Well, you’ll all really know how boring I am when I explain. I’m in environ­mental studies, kind of on the policy track?”

“What got you there?” Nora asks. The strand of hair she’s twirling has hints of blue.

“Oh, it’s complicated. I grew up surrounded by farms. Talk about cli­mate change and farming practices and government stuff…”

“He’s so articulate, isn’t he?” Maggie jumps in and rescues him.

One good thing about Maggie is that she is never quiet for long, and as an added bonus, she knows Cam more than well enough to know this whole story. Maggie’s interruptions, funny quips and interjections work beautifully. They open the con­versation to the rest of the group so that Cam is participating in a conversation, rather than delivering the world’s most tedious monologue. It also allows him to observe. Observa­tion is second nature to him, and he’s never been able to observe Wren when he isn’t engaged in class or focusing his energy on Cam alone.

He’s able to deduce that Wren and Nora are good friends long before Wren reveals that they are roommates. Clearly, Wren dis­likes Steven, a sentiment Cam can’t help but share. Steven is hos­tile and rude in a very passive-aggressive way, as well as big­oted. Even unflappable Maggie is struggling with him. Why on earth have they included him in a study group?

“So you all have an exam Monday?” he asks during a lull in the conversation.

“No,” Logan says, “these are class-assigned study groups for weekly presentations. We do have an exam Wednesday, though.”