Page 31 of The Top of Admiration
Chapter 26: Miranda — Go fly a kite
I can no other answer make but thanks, and thanks, and ever thanks
Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare
Bad Cam had become a distraction. While I didn’t respond to his many texts a day, they were beginning to irritate me. Sarah saw him snuggling up with Jess at a restaurant, so clearly he’d moved on. So why the begging texts? I blocked him this morning. Hopefully that was the end of it. I had zero feelings for him now, not even anger when I heard he’d finally entered some kind of thing with Jess. If she thought he’d commit, she’d be waiting a long time. Or maybe he would commit. Maybe it was just me who gave him cold feet. Either way, he was not my business any longer.
I still felt conflicted about Good Cam. He was obviously a kind, sweet man, but I couldn’t let my gratitude for his donation cloud my judgment. I’d wasted years on Bad Cam, so obviously it took me years to identify a dead end.
But my first order of business was to thank him without necessitating medical intervention. Usually, when I set my mind to it, I could wage any campaign successfully. The war against Harrison was a case in point. Why now, when I wanted to actually do something good, did I keep injuring this man? Les from YouTube had really let me down, though in his defense, he used proper nails and didn’t have glitter glue in his toolbox. Apparently an adult human male was heavier than the wire-lined wings I’d hung on a sculpture. Who knew?
My next thank-you would have to be perfect to make up for all of this. Cam’s injuries seemed to be escalating from facial bruises to broken bones, so I had no room for error on my next plan. Jules had declared herself out of the whole thing and begged me to just talk to him. Cordy was reluctant but I think she wanted to keep an eye on things and moderate my plans for safety reasons.
Home repairs were out. Shows of gratitude in public places with large overprotective husbands present were out. What did that leave me? Chocolate or some kind of gift was too easy and wasn’t really making his life easier the way he had made mine. I mean, it was nice, but anyone could do that. It wasn’t personalized or unique.
What was Cam missing in his life? Then, it hit me. Fun. He was missing fun. He looked after his sister, he worked hard, he built a website for Damon, he dog-sat Nettie at the drop of a hat. The man never had fun! As far as I knew, he didn’t date, despite being incredibly handsome and excellent company.
What was fun? For him, probably a movie or something, but it was time to expand his horizons. I recounted what had given me joy in the past and the first memory to flash into my mind was flying a kite with Grandpa Harold. He’d made it and we’d gone to the beach to give it a test drive. Even Cordy, who hated the wind as a kid, was running around shrieking in joy. The craft store sold kite kits, so I decided to stop there after work and begin my plan. No one gets injured flying a kite. Even if he flew it at midnight in an electrical storm, there was no metal in it. Yes. This man needed to cut loose, and this was the perfect way to do it. Sure, he was on crutches right now, but on a windy enough day, it was manageable.
__________
I sat back, pleased with my work. The kite was strong and well built. I took no shortcuts and unlike with the porch repair, I had followed the instructions to the tiniest detail. The equipment was all supplied so presumably it was safe. I checked my phone: 10:20 pm. I’d wait another hour until he would be safely asleep and then leave it at his door with the note I’d written.
You deserve some fun. Fly this and remember that your happiness matters too.
Perfect. I was back on track.
Chapter 27: Cam R — Pointless proposals
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves
Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare
I used to think Miranda would always wait for me. That no matter how many times I brushed her off or laughed things away, she’d still be there, smiling that patient, forgiving smile. I mistook kindness for permanence. I was a world-class self-delusional asshole thinking I wasn’t ready to commit to her. Her absence was like a physical loss. I hadn’t written music since she’d left for France, and she never responded to anything I sent her.
I thought I was keeping my options open—that not committing was some kind of freedom. But it wasn’t freedom. It was cowardice dressed up as choice. And now I’m stuck with the proof of that cowardice, Jess. Someone I ran to and hid behind when things with Miranda became too serious. She was an intrusion in our relationship, and while I never liked her as more than a friend, I was happy to have that distraction, that impediment to forever.
She’s not Miranda. She never was. She laughs too loud at nothing, touches me like I’m something shiny she wants to keep, and I can’t even stand to look at her for long. Every word feels like a reminder of what I traded away, the depth for the distraction. She’s constant drama, and not the fun kind of drama Miranda would bring. She was forever misinterpreting things I said, implying we had something serious when we’d both agreed we were basically friends who were sometimes booty calls.
Miranda wanted something steady. I wanted to avoid growing up. And now I’m the one standing still, watching her move on with a man who actually shows up, who fixes things instead of breaking them. I don’t know if she’s with him, but I sometimes see his comments on her Insta, and they seem far too familiar for someone who’s just a friend. Nothing overt, but just constant reactions to her posts and encouraging words. The words of a boyfriend, not a friend.
I hate that I get it now, what she meant when she said, “You make everything feel temporary.” Because that’s what I was. Temporary.
And now I can’t stop thinking about all the things I didn’t do, the calls I didn’t return, the promises I half-kept, the way I let Jess wedge herself into the cracks I left wide open. I didn’t even have to cheat; I just didn’t protect what mattered. Jess’s attention combined with Miranda’s jealousy was flattering, but it’s the stupid kind of flattery a high-school boy enjoys. The worst part? Miranda’s not angry anymore. She never was. She hung up on me when I admitted rejecting her scholarship, but then, she was done. And I finally understand that done is worse than furious. You can fix fury. You can’t fix done.
My phone chimed with the message alert I’d set up for Jess. She had a unique tone, not because I was keen to see her texts, but so I could ignore them if I was doing something more important when they arrived. Like alphabetizing my tax receipts, though it had been years since I’d filed a return. I’d rather be alone with my own mistakes than with someone who reminds me of them.
Jess: Lol it’s totally fine that you didn’t text back last night, I just couldn’t sleep at all wondering if you were okay or like, with someone else haha. Anyway :) hope you slept great!
Me: Thanks for the message. Been pretty wiped lately, trying to focus on a few personal things. Take care, okay?
Jess: Oh yeah, no worries! I totally get it, you’re busy??Just miss talking to you, that’s all. Maybe we can catch up later this week?
I sighed. She was around all the time now, making me wonder how we’d even stayed friends this time. She was tedious, annoying, and attention-seeking. Maybe I wasn’t too late. I could perform some kind of grand gesture to prove how much I loved her. She never seemed keen onSweet Melons, so I wouldn’t bother with a song. I’d just talk from the heart. Loudly.
__________
I took a deep breath, stood on my car roof, and spoke loudly into the megaphone.
