Page 2 of Curious Cameron
I don't know why I'm trying to be discreet while spying on the street. If I can see everything and everyone out there, they can certainly see me. The curtain is some dainty sheer material that doesn't offer any protection.
It's also really blue. Cerulean, to be exact. And really soft. What's this made out of?
I'm distracted from my impromptu reconnaissance as I pinch the fabric between my fingers for a better feel of it. When Ilook out the window again, I spot two men and a dog so small you could wrap it in a burrito. They’ve stopped on the sidewalk directly in front of our house.
One of them is an older man with graying hair and the other one is a shorter, slighter man. The smaller guy looks right about my age. Somewhere in his early twenties. They’re waving right at me. I awkwardly lift my hand before I even more awkwardly turn around.
"Cameron?"
Oh, shit. I've missed something. Trevor only uses my full name when I've zoned out. Embarrassment colors my cheeks. "Yeah? Sorry."
Trevor just smiles at me and repeats himself. "Get over here, dude. I want to finish putting up the rest of the curtains and need your help."
"You know you don't need to do all this for me." I say that but I'm already I'm hustling over to help.
Trevor's been on a nesting kick since we moved in and got the essentials sorted out. Every day he comes back with a new piece of furniture or some random thing to make the house feel more homey.
Today, it’s the curtains for the living room. Yesterday it was a giant turquoise wall clock for the den.
"This is your place."
"Hey, don't talk like that," Trevor says with a quick frown before his lips spread open into a happy grin. "It'sourplace. Besides, I want my pretty boy husband living in a nice place."
I try to smile back at Trevor, but it’s hard. He’s done so much for me already. I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay him forall his kindness and support. I play with the plastic opening of the next set of curtains while Trevor gets the rod down. "You're not going to regret this… arrangement?"
The only reason we tied the knot was so Trevor could loop me into his health insurance plan. And because getting married is the only way Trevor can get out of the barracks and into the military family housing on base.
"What? No way. You’re not getting away from me that easy, Cam.” Trevor flashes me a playful grin.
Trevor's so casual and positive about this whole situation. Though that's always been Trevor. Nothing beats him down. Or stops him. Once he wants something, he goes after it with a ruthless determination that is as heartwarming as it is terrifying.
To be honest, it's probably why we're friends.
Trevor and I couldn't be more different, but that's why he seems to like me so much. He's the offense to my defense. The sun to my moon, the fire to my ice. We grew up right next door to each other, but we never grew apart.
Trevor must not trust the look on my face, because he chatters on while he pulls over a chair with one hand. He uses it as a step stool while he puts up the curtains.
"What we have is a win-win situation as far as I'm concerned." Trevor stops at his task and gives me a thoughtful look. "Is the gay thing weirding you out?"
"Never. It's nothing like that."
I might be straight, but I've never cared about being called gay. The accusation has been lobbed at me like an insult my whole life. For being short and on the skinny side. For being too blond and too good at art.
For being too close to Trevor.
Our hometown loved Trevor as a football player, but they never accepted he was gay. It was like they could only love one part of him and not the whole person. I've never thought of my best friend split in half like that.
He's always just been Trevor to me.
I rub the side of my neck and glance over toward the window again. "It's just…we're lying. Technically. Won't everyone hate me if the truth gets out? What about your army buddies and all the neighbors?"
I can't stop thinking about the worst things ever happening. Trevor getting kicked out of the military. Becoming homeless. Never being able to go back to college and finish my art degree.
"They don't need to know, man." Trevor finishes hanging up the curtain and jumps off the chair. "Hey, look at me."
Trevor’s voice puts a plug in the unending drain of my swirling thoughts.
His broad palm engulfs my shoulder. Trevor's always been taller than me. Bigger and stronger in every way. He's always been a force to be reckoned with while I'm just a speck to be ignored.
