Page 17 of Found

“So…” Cam addresses me. “You have a good day yesterday?”

“Oh, hell yeah, we had a great time!” I can’t help but beam with excitement. As much as I want Boss to myself, I want the world to know he’s mine.

How can I even think that? It’s been thirty-six hours.

Cam gives a slight nod. “So the barbecue?”

“Yes, we should go,” I say.

“Bye, Claire,” Cam calls out to her roommate sitting in the living room

“Bye, Claire!” I shout and wave dramatically.

“Have fun!” Claire calls back.

Once outside, Cam hops in the back seat of Boss’s car and buckles herself in.

“Buckle up, babe,” Boss reminds me.

“So what's the occasion for your barbecue, Tony?” Cam asks from the back seat.

“Oh, it’s not mine. It’s at Montgomery’s house. He has one on every Sunday when our crew isn’t working—or at least, when it's nice out.”

The mood within the vehicle changes, and I remember Cam’s angry glares toward Deacon on Friday. I’ll have to ask her about that later.

She doesn’t seem to be in a chatty mood, so I fill the ride with conversation, sharing all the socially appropriate things about the past day and a half with her. I don’t get much more than a one-syllable vocalization in response, but I blow it off. Even Campbell’s attitude can’t put me in a bad mood with Boss at my side.

It’s a short drive to Deacon’s. When we arrive, Boss parks in front of a little brick house, and we get out of the car.

We walk through the gate to the backyard. “Come on, Cam,” I urge as Cam lingers behind us.

Deacon walks over to greet us. “Hey, guys, glad you could come.”

Boss delivers a friendly punch to Deacon’s shoulder, and I lean in for a quick hug. Cam stands still, almost glaring, and not making any attempt to reply to Deacon’s greeting.

Once again, not my circus. Not my monkeys. Cam can handle herself.

Deacon reaches into the cooler and pulls out a few drinks before offering them to us. Cam grabs the Miller Lite from his hand and takes a long pull from the bottle.

“Oh. My. God! Campbell Stevens, are you drinking?” I shriek. Cam hasn’t had a drink since senior year in high school.

She shoots me a serious glare.

“What's so weird about that?” Deacon asks me.

“Cam hasn’t had a drink since she was eighteen. She stopped drinking completely when she moved here.”

“Is that so?” Deacon looks at Cam.

She sighs. “I’ve had a drink since then. I just don’t make a habit of drinking much or very often.”

“Don’t let her fool you. This girl hasn’t been even remotely tipsy since the summer after we graduated,” I announce with a giggle, happy that Cam is going to let loose a bit for once. I sense Cam’s glare, but I ignore it.

“What’s the special occasion tonight, beautiful?” Deacon asks her.

Cam snaps her head toward him with fierce intensity. “Don’t call me that!”

Deacon’s eyes go wide. “I’m sorry. What's the special occasion,Cam?”

---