christmas gift part ii.
On the Friday right before winter break, at lunch, Cameron announces happily that for Christmas, Eitan and he are driving up to New York.
Koby gives him a look. "The two of you? Alone?"
Cameron, considering, shoves another French fry in his mouth. "Well. You can come too, if you like."
"That's not what I was asking," Koby says, miffed. "And your parents are, what? Okay with it? Even with that report that some kids got killed on the way to Chicago in a car crash?"
Cameron shrugs expansively, looking around at a group of blonde girls who pass by their table on the way to throw away their trays. "We'll be careful. Very careful. We're both good drivers."
Snorting, Koby rummages under his pizza plate for a clean napkin. "Yeah, when you're in separate cars. And sober. And, you know, generally paying attention. Without the radio on."
"Hey, you don't trust us?"
"Chloe has nothing to say about this?"
"What is she going to say? I mean, what do you think I'm going to tell her?" Cameron pours the French fries from their bag onto the plastic tray, squinting briefly before breaking out in a wide, wicked grin. "'Hey, I'm going to New York with my long-time crush in hopes that he'll let me screw him while we're sharing a hotel room'?"
A pause. Koby sips his milk through his straw, watching Cameron absently push his French fries around through the tiny sprinklings of strewn salt. He clears his throat and, softly, asks, "So you are. Trying to." He gestures, unable to put it into words. "Do something about your. Um." Koby grabs one of Cameron's fries, frowning as he chews. "Relationship."
"Uh, sure. I mean, why not." Cameron smiles at Koby nervously, intimate and genuine, and Koby shifts so he can look away naturally. Cameron peers down at his mostly eaten lunch, knitting his eyebrows. "I know he's not 100% straight. Take fucking Cade--"
"Are you jealous? Of Cade?"
"Look, it's just an example--" Cameron lowers his voice and Koby, for the moment, remembers again why they arrive at lunch late everyday and eat off in the corner of the cafeteria. He gives the cafeteria a cursory sweep and assures himself that no one is coming towards them to sit with them, especially not any of Chloe's friends. Cameron continues, exasperated, "All I mean to say is that it's not a complete impossibility for me to. You know."
"Get in his pants. Because you suspect that Cade screwed him."
"Well, shit, you don't have to say it like that."
"How am I supposed to say it like?"
"Like--Fuck." Koby watches Cameron rake his bangs with his hands, signaling 'mild discomfort and embarrassment.' After a long wait, Cameron, almost whispering, says, "Can't you be just a little more understanding?"
Koby considers. He supposes that it is possible, though highly improbable, that somewhere else in the world, some man was asking his regular fuck if he or she could possible be more understanding about his intentions to seduce his unrequited love of almost three years. He supposes that it's possible that, given the right time and place, this situation could even be considered, once again, normal and not at all unusual, or demanding, or selfish, or awkward. He supposes that in Cameron's mind, it is simple to see this situation for what it could potential be: him asking a friend that he just happened to occasionally screw for romantic advice. He supposes that it is possible, very very possible, in fact highly likely, that it does not occur to Cameron that Koby himself has any feelings of any kind about him, or Eitan, or this relationship-that-could-possibly-exist-elsewhere.
It occurs to Koby that Cameron doesn't understand, because understanding is Koby's end of the deal.
So Koby fumbles with a napkin, averting his eyes, and answers, "Yeah, sure, uh, I'm sorry."
Afterwards Cameron asks Koby what he wants for Christmas, and Koby bites his lip, mumbling something pedestrian and stupid which makes Cameron laugh and promise to get him some souvenir from New York. But later, when he sits in his chair during the last class of the day, Koby says to himself, 'God, Santa, Buddha, or whatever is really up there--for Christmas, just this once, just once in my life--even though he's selfish and stupid and can't see past his own nose when it comes to these things, even if it's just for one day or one night--please let me have Cameron all to myself.'
Koby supposes, too, that Cameron's habit of asking for the impossible may have rubbed off on him a little.
*
Koby doesn't hear from Cameron until late evening on Christmas Eve. Cameron's banging on his door like he doesn't know what the doorbell was invented for, and Koby answers it with his hands full of holiday napkins for his parent's guests that are over. Cameron has his arm still raised, preparing a fresh onslaught of knocks, nose and cheeks red, in a thin coat, and he grins from the doorway, radiating cold.
"God, why isn't it snowing?" He bundles in, kicking his shoes off, and Koby deposits the holiday napkins on the kitchen counter after informing his mother that it was Cameron when she asks who was so earnestly trying to break down the door.
"It's too cold, that's why." Koby looks over his shoulder appraisingly. "You want something to drink?"
"Yeah, something fucking warm."
"I thought you were supposed to be in New York," Koby says, wondering if it came out too accusatory. He's making hot chocolate for Cameron, then decides he wants one too, and he's not sure if it's a good or bad thing that he can't see Cameron's face as he searches for another cup. He can hear one of the kitchen stools scrape, and when he glances over Cameron's fiddling with the decorations on the counter.
"Yeah, we were, but then something came up and Eitan's family was bitching all over him for not spending the holidays with them. You know his parents and how they are. So he canceled last minute." Koby pops some water in the microwave to heat up, and Cameron rambles on, rubbing his nose with his even colder fingers, "So then I thought, who else would I want to spend my Christmas with? Not my family, obviously, because my grandparents on my mom's side are a bitch, basically."
"You're exaggerating again," Koby admonishes half-heartedly as he pours the hot water into their hot chocolate mugs.
"No I'm not, trust me. Anyway, suddenly I thought of you. And there's no where else I'd rather be," Cameron finished, his classic smile plastered on his face, the expression in his eyes the same as when he wants to charm girls into doing him stupid favors, and Koby can feel himself warming up to him.
"I see. I'm a last resort, am I?" Koby slams Cameron's drink onto the counter in front of him, trying hard not to smile. In the background he can hear his parents and their friends chatting, one of his cousins running up and down the stairs with tiny baby feet, the wind outside, their fake fireplace burning merrily, and for some reason, suddenly everything feels warm and wonderful and straight out of a Christmas carol.
"Aw, no man, you're great. Seriously. Except--god, that's really, really hot--" He blows across the surface of his drink, warming his hands around the mug. "Except I didn't end up buying you a Christmas gift after all."
"So what do I get?" Koby picks up his drink cautiously, eying Cameron from across the kitchen.
Cameron takes another sip of his hot chocolate, grimacing at the heat, then looks up at Koby. His ears are a numb sort of pink, and his lips are chapped from the wind; his hair is rumpled and a mess. He still has his scarf on, tied crooked and draped over one shoulder to keep from falling into his hot chocolate, and his face is turning red defrosting in the heat of Koby's house, but when he says, "Well, will I do?" Koby thinks that maybe, quite possibly, Cameron is the most beautiful thing in the world he has ever seen.
- The End. (Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and the rest.)