I know it doesn't make sense if you put it on paper
Cameron's been on the island for roughly a few weeks when he spots him.
In the days since his arrival, a part of him has felt strongly that he should be looking for Mark, although he suspects that's because he knows that's what Tyler would be doing if he were here. Where Tyler and Divya want retribution, though, Cameron's calmed down over the last few days, and while he's still feeling worn down by the twin defeats of Facebook and the Grand Challenge Cup, he doesn't want vengeance or anything as petty as that.
Beating up Mark Zuckerberg or yelling at him or suing him, it's not going to fix everything; it's just a band-aid patched on after the fact, like bandaging an already festering wound, and the reason it took them so long to tend to that ill, he knows, is himself. He held off. If he thinks about it too long - and it's quiet here, with everyone so busy and no other familiar faces, no boathouse to practice in - then it's almost as much his own fault as it is Mark's. He doesn't like thinking about it, the way they're all complicit in how this turned out; he'd prefer to be able to shrug off any blame, but it's too late for that.
Mostly he just wants to understand. And he doesn't, actually, at the same time, because he doesn't want to be the guy who gets that kind of behavior, who comprehends treachery, but still, after everything that's happened, he wants to talk to the guy.
It's only when he heads over toward him where he's bent over notes at a table that Cameron realizes he has no idea what it is he wants to say. He just sits down opposite, slow, half-expecting Zuckerberg to just bolt like that time he saw him across the quad. "I heard you were here."
In the days since his arrival, a part of him has felt strongly that he should be looking for Mark, although he suspects that's because he knows that's what Tyler would be doing if he were here. Where Tyler and Divya want retribution, though, Cameron's calmed down over the last few days, and while he's still feeling worn down by the twin defeats of Facebook and the Grand Challenge Cup, he doesn't want vengeance or anything as petty as that.
Beating up Mark Zuckerberg or yelling at him or suing him, it's not going to fix everything; it's just a band-aid patched on after the fact, like bandaging an already festering wound, and the reason it took them so long to tend to that ill, he knows, is himself. He held off. If he thinks about it too long - and it's quiet here, with everyone so busy and no other familiar faces, no boathouse to practice in - then it's almost as much his own fault as it is Mark's. He doesn't like thinking about it, the way they're all complicit in how this turned out; he'd prefer to be able to shrug off any blame, but it's too late for that.
Mostly he just wants to understand. And he doesn't, actually, at the same time, because he doesn't want to be the guy who gets that kind of behavior, who comprehends treachery, but still, after everything that's happened, he wants to talk to the guy.
It's only when he heads over toward him where he's bent over notes at a table that Cameron realizes he has no idea what it is he wants to say. He just sits down opposite, slow, half-expecting Zuckerberg to just bolt like that time he saw him across the quad. "I heard you were here."