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“My ideas are never scary or bad.”
“Well…”
“Name one,” he challenged.
I didn’t have to think hard. “How about when you tied a string around Raphael’s shell and called it a leash?”
“That was an innovative idea!”
“The poor thing just stood there and put its head in its shell.”
Cam scuffed. “That’s really no different than any other day.”
I laughed. “True.”
“This idea is great.” Slapping slices of pizza on two paper plates, he winked at me. “They’re saying that it’s supposed to snow through tomorrow morning.”
I was caught between glee and annoyance. Snow was great. Walking on campus with snow or ice on the ground was not.
“And I seriously doubt that any of the classes will be cancelled tomorrow,” he continued as we walked into my living room. “But a lot of people will be out and the teachers will expect that.”
“Okay.” I sat on the couch, scooting over for him.
“So I was thinking we should skip tomorrow, stay right here and watch shitty movies all day.”
My first response was to say I couldn’t skip a whole day’s worth of classes, but as I met Cam’s mischievous gaze, I said screw it. “That is a brilliant idea.”
“I know, right?” He tapped his head. “I’m full of great shit.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely full of it…”
“Ha.”
I giggled as I bit into the cheesy goodness. Cam ate half of the pizza and when Ollie stopped by, he finished it off. It amazed me how the two guys could eat so much and be in such drool-worthy shape. I ate two slices and gained an extra ass.
Sitting between the two boys, I dozed off while they watched a mini-marathon of a reality show about moonshining. When I woke up, Ollie was gone and although I was lying against Cam, his body was unnaturally tense.
I sat up, yawning as I pushed my hair out of my face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
He looked at me, expression unreadable. Unease stirred like a pit of vipers in my stomach. His jaw was so tight that I wondered if he was going to crack his molars.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
Cam exhaled softly as he glanced at the coffee table. “You got a message while you were sleeping.”
My gaze followed his, landing on my cellphone. At first I didn’t see what the big deal was, but then anxiety rose like a fast-moving storm. Wide-awake, I shot forward and grabbed the cellphone. Tapping the screen, my heart jumped.
You’re a lying whore. How can you live with yourself?
I dragged in a breath, but it got stuck. I stared at the message, wishing it would simply vanish from existence.
“It flashed across your screen when it came through,” he said.
Hands shaking, I deleted the message and sat the phone down. Hurt and a wave of irrational anger rolled through me. Those two emotions felt better than the threatening panic. “You looked at the text?”
“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” He leaned forward, hands splayed over his knees. “It was right there, sitting on your screen.”
“But you didn’t have to look!” I accused, backing off the couch.
