Page 124 of Hawaii Can Suck It

What brings me joy?

The answer comes so fast it’s almost embarrassing:Cam.

Every breath, every thought, every beat of my heart sings the same name.Cam. Cam. Cam.

This girl’s become as essential as oxygen or water or those ridiculously perfect fish tacos from the food truck near my house. Cam pushes me—no, inspires me—to be a better person. She’s dug up parts of me I feared were lost under years of branding and image control.

“Reece? Did you cut out?” Mom’s voice breaks through my trance.

“Shhh,” Mama hushes her, voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. “He’s thinking about her. Look at his face. Let him work it out.”

Mom’s expression softens. “You’re such a romantic, Vera. It’s the thing I love most about you.”

Mama grins. “I know.”

And then—they kiss. Not in an obnoxious way, not in a get-a-room way, but in a this-is-what-love-looks-like way.

The kind of love that makes it through job stress, bad days, and medical diagnoses. That weathers chaos and bullshit and still chooses each other, over and over again.

That’s what I want.

I want her. I want real. I want forever.

Someone in your corner who sees past your facade to the person hiding underneath and chooses you anyway.Oh. Shit.

“You’re in love with her,” Mom states.

“I… Fuck. I think I am.”

Mama makes a sound resembling a teakettle reaching full boil, clapping her hands with enough enthusiasm to jostle Mom’s wineglass. “I KNEW IT! Helen, what did I tell you? I said, ‘That boy is head over heels.’”

“Moms, I gotta go,” I say suddenly, surging to my feet so fast I send a spray of sand flying into the air. “I love you both.”

“We love you too,” they chorus before I end the call.

I open up my text messages and click on Gordon’s name, my thumbs flying across the screen:

Me:Gordon, I’ve made a decision. We’re done chasing trending content. It’s time to focus on videos that mean something. Content that gives back. Cam wants to start by helping the people of Lahaina, and I agree. We’ll talk more when we return.

G-Thorne is going to lose his shit. He’s going to yell, talk about branding, talk about numbers, and say things like, “Reece, going viral is what matters!” and “This is a business, not a charity!”

But I don’t care.

Because for the first time in years, I’m not thinking about the DareSquad.

I’m thinking about me.

I want to create something that matters. To help people. To live a life that belongs to me, not my followers.

And there’s only one person I want to share this with. Camila.

Time to be honest—with her and with myself. This isn’t mere physical attraction, or a vacation fling, or great sex(though fuck me, the sex is incredible).

This is love.

It’s time to put my heart on the line to find out if she feels the same.

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