Page 1 of Curious Cameron
Chapter 1
Cameron
"Are you sure I should be here?" I whisper to Trevor, desperately looking up at him for reassurance. Or maybe I just want permission to leave. There are so many people at this party. Even though the house is big and bright and the air conditioner is working overtime I still feel like I'm about to faint.
"Of course, Cam. You're with me." Trevor drapes a friendly arm around my shoulder and gives me a quick squeeze. "Let me show you off a bit and then we'll go home, okay?"
"Okay," I murmur, but I'm already dreading every second of this. I want to go back to our assigned ticky-tacky house. I might hide in it for the rest of my life.
Fort Cactus isn't what I thought it would be. Or more like I never expected an army base to have a whole slice of classic American suburbia planted smack in the middle of it.
It’s kind of surreal.
As Trevor takes me around the room, introducing me to our new neighbors and his fellow soldiers, I feel out of place. And out of sorts.
Is it possible for jet lag to be permanent? It's been almost two weeks since I stepped off that plane yet I haven't been able to shake off these weird feelings.
I nervously twist the ring on my left hand while Trevor stops to introduce me to people. Most of the conversations float right over my head. I don't have to do much other than smile and nod, but eventually, someone asks me something outright.
"So, what do you do?"
"Um. I was in college, but…nothing right now." Shit. I should have an answer prepared for that. Because that's what neighbors do at a party, right?
They talk. They share things. Everybody gets to know each other. Compare lawncare tactics or whatever.
The problem is I can't let any of these guys get too close.
They can't find out I'm living a big fat lie.
"Cam, c'mon. Don't be so shy. Or modest. Cam's an artist and he's a great one. He was going to art school, but he’s on a break.”
I muster a smile at Trevor. It's an awfully kind way for him to tell people I burned out and flunked.
"Welcome to the neighborhood," someone else says, "and congratulations to you two lovebirds. So nice to have another gay couple on this block."
Yeah, I did more than move in with Trevor. We…we got married.
I'm gay married, to my gay best friend, but I'm not gay.
And the guilt about that is starting to eat me alive.
???
"So, are all the guys here…gay?" I ask in a whisper while peeking from behind the window curtain.
"On this lane? Yeah, pretty much."
Trevor doesn't whisper. His raised voice carries through the AC-laced air, his answer traveling from somewhere else in his house.
Our house.
I've been here for over a week, but it's still hard to believe that this beautiful place is my home too. Moving in with my best friend in the whole world isn't exactly wild, but the reason for my relocation is certainly…unconventional.
"Marlon's technically bi, I guess. Marriage number one was to a woman before he met his Mikey." Trevor's laugh reaches the living room before he does. "Blew up his life for that bratty twink."
I don't know who they are. While I've seen a few of the neighbors in passing, I've yet to officially introduce myself to anyone. Or let Trevor take me out to tour the base. Honestly, I've been too anxious to do it. I haven't even gone out to get the mail on my own yet.
It's early evening, but the sun is still out in full force today. I watch the neighbors as they go about their lives. Jogging, fiddling with their cars, relaxing on the porch, or tending to their manicured lawns and showy gardens.
