Page 100 of Pride High 2: Orange

Cameron’s lips pulled back in revulsion. “No really.”

“I’m dead serious. Oh! I put it in a zip-lock bag, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not depraved. And really, it was only half-soaked.”

“Oh-kaaay. What did he give you?”

Anthony grinned. “All of his used Band-Aids from the summer. Keep in mind that he’s a skater, so he goes through a lot, especially when he’s wearing shorts. Those were also in a baggie, before you get grossed out.”

“Too late,” Cameron said. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. We always give each other the worst Christmas presents we can think of. It’s tradition.”

“You guys are so weird. You don’t actuallykeepthat stuff, do you?”

“No way!” Anthony had only kept a pair of crisscrossed Band-Aids that that had gone over Omar’s knee. They were Barbie-themed and intended for his sister Yasmin, but they hadn’t been able to find the normal kind. Anthony had teased Omar about it so much that his best friend had doubled down and refused to take them off until the adhesive wore out on its own. Cameron probably didn’t want to hear about that. “Aren’t you glad you asked about this now and not later when we’re having pillow talk?”

“Yes,” Cameron said firmly. “Speaking of which, where is my head going to be resting tonight? We’re almost to Charles’s house. Should I stay on the main road?”

“Swing by his place real quick,” Anthony said. “It’ll help me orientate.”

Cameron peered at him suspiciously but complied. When they stopped in front of the house, he put the car in park. “You asked Charles to get us a room, didn’t you?”

“Yup!”

“And now you need to pick up the key from him?”

“Nope. I’ve got it right here.” Anthony pulled it out of his pocket and held it up. A bow was tied to the layered metal ring that the key hung from. Anthony handed it to him. “Your gift, sir.”

“What’s this go to?” Cameron asked before looking to the house. He must have noticed that all the lights were off. “We’re stayinghere?”

“I hope that’s okay,” Anthony said as doubt crept in. What if he thought of Charles as a sort of grandpa, and it would be a mood killer to be surrounded by all his stuff?

Cameron glanced back and forth between him and the house a few times. Then a wild grin broke out on his face. “This is going to be awesome! Grab your things. I can't wait to get inside!”

“Me neither,” Anthony said. Officially, he was charged with taking care of the place, but he hadn’t managed to get there without a car. Asking his parents for a ride would have defeated the purpose, once they learned about his secret hideaway.

Anthony explained all of this while they let themselves in. “So basically, Charles doesn’t know that we’re going to be staying the night here—” He paused until the door shut behind them. “—when really hemustknow.”

“He’s the greatest,” Cameron said with a dopey grin as he walked around the living room to switch on antique lamps. “And so are you.”

“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?” Anthony asked. The tension grew thick between them, but he wasn’t ready to cut into it yet, so he unslung and unzipped his backpack. “But first, I plan on making you an elaborate dinner of spaghettiwithmeatballs,” he said, pulling out a family-sized can and holding it up.

“Chef Boyardee, huh?” Cameron said as if impressed. “You spoil me.”

“I do try. I considered making garlic bread until I thought about our breath. But I did make sure to order a pecan pie for dessert.”

“That’s my favorite! How did you know?”

“I uh… asked the baker.”

Cameron laughed. “Charles made the pie?”

“I cut him a deal on my housesitting price,” Anthony said, “so technically it’s coming out of my wages. I didn’t want money from him at all, but I think it’s important so he has plausible deniability.”

“He can be such a schemer,” Cameron said. “Should we check out the rest of the house?”

“Sure! Have you seen it all yet?”

“Most of it.”