Page 86 of Puppy Love

“I like them though!” I lie, like I haven’t been traumatized watching her recommendations on my own. “Let’s watch it.”

“Are you sure? It’s pretty, like you said, dark. It’s not gory or anything, but...”

“Is it darker than The Human Centipede?”

The whites of Cam’s eyes grow around her irises, her brows shooting up.

“Oh my god!” she gasps, pure horror illuminating her face. “Did you actually watch that? I said that as a joke!”

After her initial shock, she dissolves into a ball of laughter, clutching her ribs.

I feel betrayed.

”A JOKE?!?” I yell, the palm of my hand pressing to my sweating forehead. “I thought you were serious! I made myself watch, like, half of it the other night until I wondered why the fuck you would recommend it or even watch it in the first place!”

Cam’s able to manage a few words between her giggles. “I-I thought you would know that was a joke. Who the hell watches The Human Centipede on purpose?”

“Well, apparently I do!”

My arms cross over my body, and I shoot her a traumatized glower.

“I’ll tell you what,” she says. “Because of that, we can watch a happy movie. Sound like a deal?”

Cam still has tears in her eyes from the laughter. They make her brown irises swirl like melting caramel and chocolate. I want to drown in them.

“Deal.”

I am a sucker for unrealistic love stories, and a slut for cheesy happily-ever-afters. But with Cam’s grim taste in media, I don’t even want to suggest Ten Things I Hate About You, my favorite, or Never Been Kissed, ranking number two. I skim through the titles on the TV, looking for something different. Something funny and cheesy, but also cinematic and classic. Something that isn’t Hallmark or in the Chick-Flick section on Netflix. I’m not ashamed of my preferences. I just want to find something Cam will enjoy too.

I see just the thing.

“In honor of Mr. Westley,” I say, pretending the name doesn’t tug at my heartstrings, “I choose The Princess Bride.”

Cam smiles, pulling the blanket backwards so I can crawl underneath it with her. I slide between the sheets, her soft thighs rubbing against mine as I press play. I love the way her body feels against mine, maybe even more so like this than when we’re having sex. She’s warm and soft, and I could fall asleep with the weight of her body sinking into the mattress next to me.

“I would love to have a sword,” she says, watching the fight play out between Inigo and Westley. I look at her with suspicion, sliding ever so slightly away from her in jest.

“You with a sword?” My eyes widen briefly. “No thanks.”

Cam flips me off, then grabs my waist and pulls me back into her tightly.

A strange feeling settles in my stomach. Like nausea, but pleasant. Yet also not. It isn’t twisting, and it isn’t sinking. It’s different, like a thousand feathers floating around inside, tickling the edges of my stomach, making my pulse quicken. I suck in a breath, forcing my muscles to relax into the touch.

Cam touches me all the time. I don’t know why, but since that night in the shower, it feels different than before. I thought, at first, I was getting used to it. But the more I thought about it, the less sense that made. If I was getting used to it, wouldn’t it have been the opposite? I would have felt this in the beginning, and it would slowly fade. But this feeling wasn’t there in the beginning. It’s new. It’s feeling more and more unfamiliar each time her fingertips rest against my skin. It’s a distinction I can’t pinpoint, but never want to lose.

We both quote lines throughout the rest of the movie, and when Westley screams in pain, Cam grips my leg like she’s anticipating whatever happens next, even though she already knows.

“I know Westley should’ve let Buttercup know he was alive sooner, but you can’t deny the man has game,” she says when the movie ends. “If I had that type of game, I’d be unstoppable.”

I want to tell her she does have game, and I know because it worked on me. But I fight the urge.

“Yeah, you’re kind of a quirky one, aren’t you?” I tease. Cam gives me a falsely offended look.

“Fuck you.” She laughs, shoving me.

I check the time on my phone. Usually, Cam is gone by now. That’s how the schedule had been planned, at least. But we don’t stick to that anymore. Cam decided we should do things based on how we feel and what we want, so long as it doesn’t interfere with Criminal Dinner. And right now, I’m not ready for her to go.

I look up from the screen, thinking of an excuse, any excuse for her to stay.

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