Cam started dating MissyPotter the year before, though she took him a lot more seriouslythan he did her.She bought him a football-themed teddy bear forChristmas, complete with a varsity jacket with Cam's jersey number.He broke things off with her the next day.Well actually, that'snot true.He continued to hook up with her at his leisure foryears, but not until after he'd made it clear they were not acouple, and if she was looking for a boyfriend she should looksomewhere else.
I remember feeling bad forher, but mostly I felt guilty over the fact that Cam and I madeendless fun of her over that stupid gift.Cam may have playedfootball, and been great at it, but that's only because he wasgreat at everything he did.That wasn't who he was, and if someonewas going to give him a themed teddy bear, getting one with astuffed pigskin sewed to its paw just shows how little they reallyknew him.
So for his sixteenthbirthday I decided to rectify it.I brush my fingers over the softsynthetic fur, over the faux leather jacket.I smile down at thecheap plastic of the lens-less glasses, the pencil, and thematerial of the open book.I trace the embroidery.Writer Cam & Rory girl,BFF.
I laugh at theridiculousness of it.Only I would think to get an embroidered,themed teddy bear as a gift for a sixteen-year-old guy.But Camlaughed for hours over that thing, and he gave it pride of place onhis bed for weeks, and then made it's permanent home,appropriately, on his writing desk.
I blink back the tearsthat threaten to spoil the happy memories and run my fingers overthe letters again.Even the acronymBFFholds significance in a memory.It was our fifth grade Valentine's Day.All of the girls—except forme—brought in those little cards to give out to the entire class,but they wrote "BFF" on the ones for their group of girl friends.It was one of the first times I actually felt a little left out.Boys didn't do things like that.They didn't write each otherlittle notes or call each other "BFFs".I got cards, ofcourse, the whole class did, only mine were generic, with whateverpre-written message existed when the cards were purchased.Nopersonalized note, noBFF.
I pretended not to care,but Cam noticed I was down.I never could hide anything from him.Sam is so like him in that way.In so many ways, really.But Cam,he had a lifetime of experience in reading my moods, and that daywas no different.
"What's buggin' you, Rorygirl?"
I shook my head.There wasno point in trying to convince him everything was fine, I'd justbite my lip and give myself up anyway, but I felt stupid for caringabout something so silly.I had friends.Real friends.So why I wassuddenly jealous of a bunch of girls I had nothing in common with,I didn't even understand myself.
Cam eyed me with suspicionthroughout class until he could corner me at recess, at which timehe used tickle-torture—a tactic he'd been known to use on me on therare occasions I withheld information from my primaryconfidante—and got the admission he'd been after.
I'd expected him to makefun of me.Instead he was completely confused.
"What are you talkingabout, Ror?What the hell am I?Chopped freakin' liver?"
I smiled.He always mademe smile."You're not my BFF.You're myCam."
That only confused himmore, but it made perfect sense to me.I knew thatBFFstood forbest friends forever,but that wasn't really what it meant.These girls were not bestfriends the way Cam and I were.They fought, talked badly about oneanother behind each other's backs, competed, and changed who theirclosest friend was with the season.Why I wanted that for myselfthat day, I can't say.Maybe I just wanted to be a normal girl foronce.Maybe I just wanted a stupid note on my damnedcard.
"Of course you haveBFF's, Rory girl.We'rejust not douchey enough to call each other that.We're literateenough not to have to speak in acronyms.We don't sayOMGorLOLeither," Camreminded me, and of course, he was right.It wasn’t about thelabel, it was about the substance.Cam was always right.
Even Chip was always abetter friend to me than Lacey and her girls ever were to oneanother, right down until I left town.
I can't help but wonderwhat he's up to now.Where he's going to school next year.I feel afresh surge of guilt for boxing him out of my life along witheveryone else.He lost Cam too.But he's also part of the town thathates me.And though he supported me through everything with Robin,he's also still friends with my tormentors, and I don't know if I'mmore fearful that he would choose them over me, or that he wouldalienate himself from everyone he knows just to have my back.Isuspect it may very well be the latter, and tell myself it's betterthis way.I know how it feels to have everyone hate you, and Iwould never want that for Chip.
I smile at the stupidteddy bear.It seems so silly now, but I'm grateful I have it.Ipush my Cam box back under my bed and curl up with my Cam bear.Ireach over to my nightstand for the varsity tee shirt that affectedSam so strangely and pull it over the bear's head.It's way toobig, of course, so I tie the hem in the back, cuddle the thing tomy chest, and go to bed.Not to sleep, mind you, though eventually,many hours later, sleep does pull me under, and I awaken in theearly morning in tears, with no recollection of the night'sdream.
****
Iknow as soon as I walk into homeroom the next morning thateverything has changed.It's in the atmosphere, and I'm not theonly one feeling it.The air grows ever warmer, more humid, as Mayslowly fades, and with it, the sense of normalcy and routine thathas guided each of us since we started kindergarten.Every day weslip closer to morelasts, and the entire school ischarged with a potent mix of excitement and anxiety.
Everyone is lookingforward to their future.Everyone is terrified of their future.Including me.And it's not lost on me that the first sense ofnormalcy I've felt in a long time is credited to the growinganxiety of my peers.
But this morning bringsother changes, subtle to those around me, but glaringly bright tome.
Sam does not wait in thehallway for me to arrive.In fact, he's not even in the classroomwhen I walk in.I make my way to my seat in the back and Carlwhooshes in just as I sit.I fake a weak smile, and she returns itin sympathy.
Sam stalks in just beforethe bell rings, and doesn't so much as glance in my direction.It'senough to tell me everything I need to know.
When lunch rolls around, Irush around the outside of the building and am not surprised tofind Carl and Tina alone by Carl's car.Carl repeats hersympathetic half-smile and confirms that the boys went for pizzatoday.
It isn't out of theordinary; we usually only have lunch together at the diner a fewtimes a week.Other days the boys go for pizza, or we go for frozenyogurt or something equally girly.If yesterday didn't happen, Iwouldn't give it a second thought.But I know Sam's avoiding me,and I can't blame him for it either.
I don't see him again forthe rest of the day, not even in the main hall where we usuallypass each other after seventh period, and when I watch thetaillights of his Escalade as he pulls out of the lot at the end ofthe day, I feel a strange wave of grief and acceptance.Because Idon't know if Sam is acting this way to punish me or simply out ofself-preservation, but I realize it's not something that will beresolved anytime soon.There's no quick fix for our issues, onlytime and understanding, and I've no choice but to give himboth.
But my resolve to give himtime doesn't mitigate the pain, and the perpetual ache in my chestfeeds off of Sam's ice-cold shoulder, evolving into somethingalmost crippling.I know that whatever my sentence is, be ittemporary or indefinite, it will not be easy to bear.
Chapter Nine
Thelast couple weeks of school flyby in a blur of lasts.Our last homeroom, our last AP exam, ourlast final.Soon, the three hundred plus of us graduating will rollthrough what are supposed to be epic events, all in the rush of amatter of weeks.The minor ones, like tomorrow's Senior Sleep-Inand next week's Senior Monday, may be unique to Port Woodmere, butthey are only variations of occasions celebrated by every otherhigh school across all fifty states.The more significantevents—prom, the athletics awards dinner, and graduation itself—areno less generic.
All events that shouldhold some significance in the grand scheme of my life.I suspect Ishould be looking forward to at least some of them, but my mind isa world away.I may still sit in class every day, but a part of mehas already moved into my shared apartment with Thea and is livingmy imagined future.In spirit, I am no longer anadolescent.
