Her friends, who include Cameron, probably.
And maybe there is a bit of hesitation over calling because the way he left the woods the other day felt… off. Like he was regretting what we did. Like he was disappointed in himself.
A part of me wants to turn up in town, lingering at his normal hangouts until I find him again. But that would be stalking, right? And I’m not a stalker.
I don’t want him to regret touching me or me touching him. I don’t want him to feel disappointed.
“Atticus?” Abigail calls, banging her small fist on my door.
She has trouble pronouncing my name at her small age, so it actually sounds more likeAtt-i-qwus, but I find that incredibly endearing.
I open the door to my quarters, greeting her. “Hello, little one.”
“Can we play?” she asks, her big green eyes blinking up at me.
“Play what?”
As I lean down to be her height, she giggles and says, “Dress up!”
A soft chuckle leaves me at the thought of me in makeup with bands in my hair. “Don’t you think Atty would like that more? Helovespretty clothes.”
Abigail’s eyes light up, bouncing in place.
“Okay! I’ll ask!” As she speaks, she takes me in, and Abigail stops bouncing. “Are you okay? You look sad,Att-i-qwus.”
My chest warms, a hand lifting to rub over her cheek.
“I’m not sad,” I tell her. “Just thinking.”
“Thinking,” she repeats, tugging at the sleeves of her dress. “You got this!”
Her optimism is infectious, though she does make my situation sound far simpler than I perceive it to be.
“Thanks, Abigail,” I murmur, patting her head.
She grins, then she’s sprinting off to find Atlas, and I’m watching her go. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to play; I just know I don’t want to dress up. Plus, my baby brother eats that stuff up.
As I watch her disappear around the corner and onto the second-floor landing, I stand.
Alright. Enough stalling. If my baby sister is right about anything, it’s that Igot this. If Cameron rejects me, that’s his loss.
And mine, technically.
Grabbing my phone from my nightstand, I stare at his contact for a moment before tapping his number and pressing it to my ear.
It rings once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four—
“Hello?” His voice is strained, a bit careful.
“Hello, Cameron,” I reply, proud that my tone is so calm and controlled. “How are you?”
It’s silent for a moment. Cameron says nothing, but I can hear his breathing.
