Page 89 of Pride High

Anthony seemed intimidated by the suggestion, but he nodded. “Yeah.”

Cameron closed the garage door and led him upstairs. Hedidn’t have to explain that they needed to be quiet. The ability to sneak past your parents’ bedroom became a crucial skill the older you got. Once in the privacy of his room, Cameron stood there and watched his date for a reaction.

The dresser, nightstands, headboard, and even a small writing desk were all wooden. He didn’t have posters taped to the wall, preferring frames, such as the ornate mirror above the desk, or the landscape painting that had been a gift from Charles.

Anthony took in all of this. Then he turned around and whispered, “Won’t your grandma be upset that we’re in her room?”

“You suck,” Cameron said, shaking his head.

“Is that why you brought me up here?”

“Go away,” Cameron said, moving to the door to open it. But only just a crack before he closed it again.

Anthony was grinning. “I’m just jealous. Your room is amazing. Really! Mine is a complete dump compared to this.” He walked to the desk and let his fingertips caress the polished surface. “Did you restore all of this yourself?”

“Yeah,” Cameron said. “It’s not all trash finds. Some of it I bought cheap, because it was in such poor condition.”

“I’d feel like royalty sleeping in this room,” Anthony said as he turned to consider it all again. “Like a prince.”

“Maybe you’ll have the opportunity someday,” Cameron murmured.

Anthony’s eyes darted to the bed before he blushed. Then he noticed a small wooden shelf filled with CDs and cassettes and rushed toward it. “Finally!” he exclaimed.

“Here we go,” Cameron said, already shaking his head. “I feel like I’m being audited.”

“You are,” Anthony said before he began reading out names. “Toad the Wet Sprocket. What do you think of them?”

“I mostly just like their singles,” Cameron admitted.

Anthony had already moved on. “R.E.M. is great!Automatic For The Peopleis incredible. Although if I ever have to hear that ‘Everybody Hurts’ song again, I’ll scream.”

“That’s my favorite!”

Anthony didn’t seem to hear him. Or he chose to ignore it. “Red Hot Chili Peppers?” he said. “Really?

“What’s wrong with them?”

“You don’t seem the type. Unless you bought this for ‘Under the Bridge.’”

Cameron’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know?”

Anthony merely snorted. “U2… I can live with that. Try some of their earlier albums sometime. They’re not so over-produced.”

“I’ll make a note,” Cameron promised.

“I can never decide if I like INXS or not. They’re so mainstream.”

“Terrible, I know!” Cameron sat on the edge of his bed, figuring this might take a while.

“Pearl Jam,” Anthony said, turning around to consider him. “Do you have a hidden side? I mean, they’re not Rancid or anything, but it’s better than Richard Marx.”

“I keep all of his music in a special shrine,” Cameron said shamelessly.

Anthony was silent as he took a cassette off the shelf. Then he held it up. “New Order,” he said.

“Too mainstream?”

“You do hear them on the radio sometimes. They used to be Joy Division before the lead singer killed himself.”

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