“I think this was caused by the operator’s error,” I say, laughing. “It’s just a small cut. But I’ll grab some supplies and bandage you right up. You’ll be as good as new in no time.”
“You distracted me with your sauce.” She pouts, looking down at her finger as I race to the staircase. I’m full-on laughing as I grab the first-aid kit I packed from my bag and bring it back to her, cradling her hand.
“Raise your arm over your head to slow the bleed.” I stand in front of her and open the kit, finding the items I need to play doctor.
After a moment, I grab her hand and inspect her finger again. “Let’s rinse it under some warm water for a second, and then I’ll clean it with an alcohol pad before putting some Neosporin and a Band-Aid on it.”
She nods, and I lead her to the sink, carefully placing her hand under the stream. She winces for a moment, then relaxes. It’s a baby cut, but I think it freaked her out more than anything.
Once it’s clean, I dry off her finger, then continue to help her. “There,” I say, meeting her eyes and pressing a soft kiss over the wound. “All better.”
She sucks in her lower lip, and I admire the way her freckles sprinkle over her face. Cami’s barely wearing any makeup, but she doesn’t need any because she’s a natural beauty.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
“You’re welcome.” I pat her hand before releasing it. “Perhaps I should take over this part, and you can stir the sauce.”
“You still want my help?”
“Of course I do. A deal is a deal, and it’s pretty hard to fuck up pasta.”
“Don’t underestimate me.” She snickers. “We just started, and I’m already injured.”
“Well, good thing battle wounds are sexy.” I flash her a wink, and I swear I catch her blushing. Cami would never admit it, but I think I’m getting to her the way she’s always got to me.
She continues to stir, and I show her how to make the pasta with my salt and oil trick so the water doesn’t boil over and the fettuccini doesn’t stick together. I bake some garlic bread, and soon, our meal is complete.
“Wow, this smells delicious,” she says as I set our plates on the table. “Even the bread.”
“Don’t hate on bread.”
“I’m not, but I don’t typically eat this stuff. It’ll probably put me in a carb coma.”
“Maybe it’ll force you to relax for a change.” I smirk, sitting across from her.
“What’s that mean?”
My smirk deepens. “Means you’re uptight.”
She narrows her eyes as she lifts her fork and stabs a piece of chicken. “I’m not uptight.”
I smile when her deadpan expression breaks, and she laughs at her own statement.
“If I get anything out of this situation, it’s gonna be to hear more of that sound come out of you.”
“You act as if I don’t know how to laugh.”
“Do you? All I heard from you growing up was ‘Go away, Elijah!’ followed by a door slamming in my face.” I cock my head, challenging her to deny it.
“Well, I’m not slamming doors now,” she says, the tension in her body nearly melting away.
“No, just throwing expensive statues.”
Cami playfully rolls her eyes, grinning. “I thought you were a burglar!”
“One who knows the security code and brings food…”
“Keep being a jerk. I just might change the code, and you’ll be out on your ass.” She points at me with her fork, trying to act all serious.
“I’m willing to risk it.” I shrug, knowing she wouldn’t know how to do that. You have to call and verify a bunch of shit with the security company. I know because Ryan tried to change it so we could sneak up here one weekend, but his parents busted him after they got an alert.
“So how’s your sister doing?” She changes the subject abruptly, but I don’t mind. My sister was one of my best friends growing up and still is.
“Ava’s great.” That reminds me I have to text her and make sure she’s self-isolating, too. “Not exactly your biggest fan…” I mock, finding it ironic she’s asking about her. “She’s going to freak out when I mention the two of us are here.”
Cami groans, sucking in a deep breath. “Another person I need to make amends with, I suppose.”
I shrug, twirling the pasta with my fork. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
“If we ever get to leave and go back to civilization, I’ll make sure I do. I’d rather apologize in person.”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate that. I know I would.”
Chapter Seven
CAMERON
Day 4
After dinner last night, we talked casually as we cleaned the kitchen and put our leftovers in the fridge. Yet again, I was reminded of how being a selfish teenager affected Eli’s sister, Ava. She’d come over with him, and I could tell she was desperate for a friendship, but I had this false idea in my head of who was allowed in my life. Knowing I hurt a lot of people is something I live with and regret every day. I don’t want to be that person anymore, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right with those I treated poorly.
We said good night and went our separate ways. I still had some homework to finish but could feel my anxiety spiking. When Eli and I are hanging out, even for like five minutes, I forget that we’re in the midst of a global pandemic. It’s when I’m left alone that reality smacks me in the face. Uncontrollable fear resurfaces and reminds me that this isn’t some nightmare I’m stuck in.
It’s reality.
Chanel wakes me up earlier than usual, nudging me with her nose to feed her. It’s chilly, so I wrap myself in a throw blanket and slide my slippers on before grabbing her dishes and going to the kitchen.
“Alright, alright. Calm down,” I tell her as she meows louder, following me downstairs.
Bruno’s asleep on the couch, and I look around for Eli but don’t see him. Thankfully, Chanel is more concerned about eating than antagonizing the dog this morning.
Once her bowls are full, she follows me back upstairs to my room. That same uneasy feeling that visited last night returns, and I know a panic attack is coming. I’ve gotten them periodically since high school, but I haven’t experienced one in months. Things are starting to get to me, and it hasn’t even been a week.
Crawling back on the bed, I curl into a ball and wrap my arms around my legs, holding them tight to my body. I close my eyes and slowly count. My heart races even though I’m not moving, and my head is heavy.
After ten minutes, I stand and pace the room, unable to calm down. It agitates me more. My chest tightens, and I know the worst is still to come.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I take deep breaths and try to picture what life was like before all of this happened. Somehow, weeks seem like so long ago.
A knock sounds on the door, and I look up, trying to stabilize my breathing.
“Come in,” I say.
Eli peeks his head inside before opening the door wider. “You okay? I could hear you pacing up here.”