Cameron’s room was as messy as he left it. A mountain of creased clothes stacked in the corner. Piles of papers and books scattered as far as the eye could see. Dirty cups. Maybe he should’ve cleaned up here, too.

“You get your own room?” Mateo asked, in awe.

“Yeah,” Cameron stepped inside, “small but mine.”

Mateo followed him. “Jealous! I’ve always had to share. Guess that’s what happens when you’ve got lots of older siblings.”

“Me and Rosa had to share when we were younger.” His mind wandered back to their dad’s old flat. “Different place.”

His own space was nice and all, but sometimes Cameron missed having someone else to share with. It made him feel safer. Not left alone with his thoughts.

“Did you guys put tape on your part of the room? You know, to clearly show the boundaries.”

“We did once…” Cameron shook his head, “and then got into a full-on pillow war when one of my socks ended up on Rosa’s side. Nuclear.”

“Shit, sounds intense.” Mateo stepped forward, kicking the covered guitar case. Hard. “Ow…”

“Sorry,” Cameron winced, reliving his earlier toe-stubbing incident, “meant to move that.”

“Not my first toe stub. Won’t be my last.” Rubbing his injured foot, Mateo examined the bulky case. “What’s in there?”

He wasn’t sure why, but Cameron wanted to show Mateo. Taking a deep breath, he unclipped the case. He carefully picked the guitar up, sitting on the bed. After a quick tuning session, his fingers found familiar chords.

Mateo watched Cameron play. The first time playing more than one chord in almost a year. His technique was rusty, a few dud notes, but still sounded beautiful. It felt weird. Not as painful as his previous attempts.

“That was…” Mateo clapped enthusiastically when he finished, “amazing!”

“Not really.” Cameron idly plucked at the strings. “Pretty basic.”

“Well, I think it sounded cool,” Mateo insisted. “Do you practice a lot?”

“I used to.” Cameron gently tapped the guitar body. It still hurt to look at this keepsake from his father. “I was in a band, too.”

“That is so cool.”

“Not sure how cool a bunch of kids trying to figure out instruments is…” Cameron shrugged, “but that’s in the past now.”

“Did something happen?” Mateo asked, hesitant and concerned.

“I had to… move around a lot these past few months.” Cameron’s fingers gripped the fretboard. “Didn’t leave much time for practicing.”

He missed playing with other people, but it didn’t feel right. Not yet. He had other stuff to figure out first. Maybe one day.

“That’s a shame.” Thankfully, Mateo got the hint and didn’t push for more information. “You sounded really good.”

“Thanks.” Cameron put the guitar back, moving to his desk. “So, are we gonna do this homework or not?”

“Didn’t expect you to be so eager.”

Shrugging, Cameron retrieved his test paper. He handed it to Mateo, who sat at the desk and scanned it silently. His expression didn’t change when he saw the incredibly low score. Cameron suddenly felt very nervous. When Mateo reached a large scribbled out section, he squinted to read what was underneath.

After a few minutes, he looked up. “You can actually answer these questions, can’t you?”

Cameron rubbed the back of his neck. “Some.”

“Then, why didn’t you.” Mateo pointed at the scribbled mess. “This looks right.”

Cameron shrugged. Nothing in his life went smoothly. Even when he tried... especially when he tried. Maybe he was cursed.

“Okay,” Mateo stood, offering Cameron his seat, “let’s start with you correcting what you can. On your own.”

Cameron sat down at the desk, staring at his paper. The numbers blurred. An incomprehensible mess. Panic. He felt a hand on his shoulder, cutting through.

“Just take your time,” Mateo reassured. “I’ll be here if you need help.”

Nodding, Cameron cleared his mind, pushing past the mental block. Breathe. Mr. Harrison believed in him, so did Rosa and Mateo seemed to.

He could do this.

For the next half an hour, he focused on the test. Every now and then, the dread returned. He managed to push it back, especially with encouragement from Mateo.

When Cameron was done, he stood. “Missed a couple but…” he motioned to the paper, “...there it is.”

Mateo sat down, checking through the workings. Cameron paced across his room. He picked up a book, then put it down. He sat on his bed, foot tapping on the floorboards. The longest fifteen minutes of his life.

After what felt like an eternity, Mateo swiveled around in the chair. “If we work on some of these small mistakes, you could pass with ease.”

Cameron’s eyes widened, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, let me show you.”

Mateo brought the paper over, sitting on the bed beside Cameron. They went through each question; Mateo slowly and diligently explained any lingering mistakes. To Cameron’s surprise, previously hazy areas became much clearer. Any lingering panic subsided.

“You were right,” Cameron admitted, shocked.

“When it comes to maths stuff,” Mateo twizzled a pen around his finger, almost dropping it, “I usually am.”

“Guess I’m more of an artsy guy.”

“I do see you doodling in science class a lot,” Mateo said. “I always wonder what you’re drawing.”

“First noticing I’m always alone, now this… seems you’ve been spying on me.”

Mateo smiled, eyes shimmering with… something. “You’re a pretty hard guy to miss, Cameron.”

That made Cameron feel surprisingly happy, although he couldn’t completely shake his default distrustful mode.

He closed the test. “Why did you really help me?”

“I wanted to,” Mateo replied without hesitation.

“Even when I pushed away before.” Most people backed off when he told them to. Too scared.

Mateo shrugged. “You weren’t doing to be mean.”

“How do you know that?”

“Call it intuition. People say a lot of things about you. It made me sad. Especially when I imagined how I’d feel.” Mateo met Cameron’s eyes. Unwavering. “So, I wanted to see what kind of person you were for myself.”

“And,” Cameron twiddled his thumbs, “what’s your verdict?”

“Think we might have to hang out more to be sure.” Mateo gently nudged their legs together. “If that’s okay with you.”

Truthfully, Cameron was tired of pushing everyone away. He was lonely. So lonely. He hated it. Maybe he could risk getting hurt again. For the first time in months, he cracked a genuinely unrestrained smile.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

--------------------

Now we’ve got some setup, we’ll be switching between related past and present events every other chapter (so we can get to that good gay stuff). Like little snapshots. I’ll make any major time skips as clear as possible.

See y’all next time :)