Cameron and the Girls Read Online Free Page B

morning,” she says.
    â€œIt’s nothing,” I say.
    â€œCam,” she says evenly. “You could have caught pneumonia out there like that.”
    I try to change the subject. “School’s hard,” I say. “Mrs. Owens asks hard questions.”
    But she shakes her head. “No, it’s more than that. I’ve seen it before. You were talking.”
    This is not good. I know that when she starts to ask questions, pretty soon they will all pile up, and before you know it, I’ll have an appointment at the doctor.
    â€œCameron. Please tell me. It sounded like you were maybe talking back to a voice.”
    I sit up in my bed. “Mom.”
    â€œI know it makes you mad. But what I saw. What I heard. It makes me think . . .”
    I pull my arms out from under the blanket and rest them on the fuzzy top. I take a deep breath and try to clear my brain. It whirls a little, but I still have control. “I have a girlfriend,” I say boldly.
    Mom blinks and jerks back as if she’s been hit. “No, really, Cam,” she says.
    â€œReally.”
    â€œYou have a girlfriend?”
    â€œI was practicing talking to her last night.”
    She sits down on the edge of my bed. I can tell she wants so much to believe me.
    â€œIs it not okay?” I say.
    â€œNo, it’s not that, it’s just that it’s so surprising.”
    â€œNot to me.”
    She places a warm hand on mine. “That’s wonderful, Cam. Just wonderful.” She pauses and then says, “Is it someone I know?”
    I shake my head. “I don’t think so. She’s new.”
    â€œA new girl,” she says with wonderment. “I see.”
    I hope she won’t ask more specific questions, and I’m relieved when she stands up again. “Well, that explains a lot.” She kisses me and on her way to the door, stops. “I have a confession to make, Cam. I thought maybe you had stopped taking your meds.”
    â€œMom.”
    â€œI know, I know. But I’m glad you haven’t stopped, and I’m glad you have a girlfriend. But maybe next time you can practice talking to her indoors.”
    I hear her cross the hall and say good night to Beth by patting the door a couple of times. I’m not certain she’s convinced, but I’m happy she’s gone because I need to stretch out my legs and keep them stiff for a while. They creak and pop. My stomach is flip-flopping; I have a headache. I fear I will start to break, but:
    Hello, Cam. How’s my man today?
    It’s as if she’s been hiding under my bed, waiting for Mom to leave. “Better now,” I say. Her voice once again wraps me in a warm cottony cloud. I wish I could feel her next to me. “Tell me what you look like,” I quickly say.
    Why don’t you guess?
    I close my eyes and try to picture her. A blurry image appears, and I try to bring it into focus. “Short brown hair.”
    Good.
    â€œBrown eyes. Red lips. Top one thinner than the bottom one. A smile that makes the sun shine.”
    Oh, a poet.
    I squirm a little. “Soft delicate fingers like your voice. And smart. Your face looks smart.”
    How did you know?
    I shrug.
    Anything else?
    I don’t have to think long. “And curvy,” I say. “Your body is curvy.”
    Thank you, Cam. That’s sweet. And guess what? You’re absolutely right about everything.
    I can sense my blood pumping all over again. It makes me feel alive.
    â€œThank you,” I say.
    For what?
    â€œJust for being here with me. That’s all.”
    You’re entirely welcome, Cam. I feel love when we’re together. I like that.
    Her voice is so lush, so nectarish, that I let myself taste it. I sense a strong familiar pulse in my body that feels good. I can go on listening to her forever. And realizing that that’s exactly what I want to do, I snuggle down deep in the warm blanket. I let her voice