Page 40 of Teach Me
He ducked his head away, and this time, I could tell he needed that moment of separation, so I let him have it. “Talk about shame and embarrassment and guilt and just…fuck. Mark found me and thought I was dead. It really fucked with him. He called the ambulance, took me to the hospital, stayed until my parents got there, then they kicked him out. They thought it was all his fault, that he and the school were a bad influence, causing me to stray from the path. That kind of thing. As soon as I was well enough to leave the hospital, they withdrew me from school and sent me to rehab. Rehab helped for sure with the pills, and I owe them huge for that. But it didn’t tackle the guilt. It was church-based, and…well, once my head was on straight and I got out, I started going to NA meetings, which were less judgmental.My parents made me see a church counselor and wanted to send me to seminary and…I dunno.
“At some point, I figured out if I kept going that way, I’d die. Of shame, of pills, whatever. I’d relapse. So I left and found an alternative program online. No higher-power talk, just self-reflection, self-focus, and group support, which was way more up my alley. My parents cut me off financially, though. They’re still not happy about me leaving but they also haven’t given up trying to get me to come back, I guess.”
Cameron rubbed his hands over his face with a sigh. “I know that’s a lot. Fuck, I’m probably pretty broken. That’s why I figured something like this—” He gestured between us. “—would be ideal. No strings, you know? I thought you should know that about my past, though.”
I took my time digesting the story. Anyone would’ve said that everything Cameron had shared was a compounded risk factor on top of the massive risk we were already running. I knew plenty of statistics about addiction. I knew I should be worried about a relapse, or that if things soured between us, it could send him into a spiral, and that perhaps all addicts were unreliable.
“I’m not supposed to make promises about certain things,” he said quietly. “But if I could, I would. Because I believe in myself. I’m never going back to that life.” His solemn expression had me reaching for his hand, twining it with mine before I kissed the back of it.
“I believe in you, too.” I tipped his chin up and brushed my lips over his. I’d made a career studying why people made the decisions they did. I knew every formula, every statistic, every pattern. And despite all of that, I was here, against all odds, with my own student. And I believed him. “Everyone’s a little fucked-up. Personally, I’ve always thought there were two nonnegotiable truths in life: no one gets out alive, and no one comes into adulthood without a few broken parts.”
“I like that.”
His smile was timid and irresistible. I had to kiss him again. “I likeyou.” The admission slipped out of me as effortlessly as the endearment earlier, even if unintentionally. “I wouldn’t judge you based on that.”
“I’ve been clean for two years. I keep up with my program and stay accountable to it.” His eyes burned fiercely into mine. “I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of risk, but I understand if you do.”
“I think—” I considered my words carefully. “—that we’re both a risk. I also think you’re overthinking this right now.”
He nodded fervently. “Oh, I know. I know, we’re just messing around and stuff, not talking about long-term relationships or anything. So good, okay. Now I’ve said it.”
We’re just messing around…I considered for a moment if I wanted to say more and then decided maybe I shouldn’t. The kinds of things I wanted to say were well beyond what we’d agreed on in the terms of our arrangement.
20
CAM
My roommates and I lay sprawled on the oversized, threadbare couches of our living room, the air charged with anticipation for spring break less than forty-eight hours away. Ansel cradled a beer in one hand, idly flipping through Netflix options with his other. Mark was stretched out on the other couch, one arm draped casually over Chet as he scrolled his phone.
“What aboutQueer Eye?Breaking Bad?” Sam suggested from his position on the carpeted floor, leaning back against Jesse’s thighs. “Think I’m too hyped up to focus on something new.”
I watched the tableau with an inward sigh, the camaraderie and excitement skittering around me like fireflies I couldn’t catch. All of my roommates had plans that sounded amazing while I would be traveling home to my parents’ stale, sterile sanctuary where discussions would likely center around my mom’s Bible study group or my dad’s back problems. Home was a tomb of unspoken words, stifling expectations, and perpetual concern that I was about to fuck up again.
I knew my parents loved me in their own way, and I had a permanent reminder etched in the back of my mind that they’d saved my life. But I wondered if being around them would always be accompanied by the feeling that I’d failed to repay my debt appropriately, the way they’d wanted me to, by falling in line. Sometimes it felt like their kind of love was a cage I’d outgrown and yet I still squeezed into every time we were in proximity. It was full of shoulds and musts, a yardstick against which I’d forever fall short.
I wished I’d begged off the trip, told them I had other plans—it wasn’t like some of my roommates hadn’t offered, but that voice had started whispering again in the back of my mind, telling me that I owed them, that if I was going to fail them as a dutiful son in almost every way, I should show up for them in the ways I still could.
I guess I needed to suck it up since it was my own doing.
As much as I dreaded the idea of spending a week under their scrutiny and concern, I dreaded more the time apart from Grady. He felt like a haven to me now. Picturing him running a hand through his dark hair or the way he sometimes pinched the bridge of his nose when he lost his train of thought—so rare that I fucking loved catching it—brought an unexpected pang to my chest.
“Hey, Cam.” Mark’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, a hint of concern wrinkling in his forehead. He eyed me with subtle curiosity. “You’re extra quiet tonight.”
“I’m fine. Just thinking about everything I need to get done before the break.” I pasted a smile onto my face. I still had work shifts, classes, and a tutoring session with Paul to think about, but the last thing I wanted to do was be a downer. “All you fuckers better send me pics. I mean it.”
Mark’s eyes held mine a beat longer before he nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure he was convinced. Despite ourtumultuous history, it still felt like we shared an understanding sometimes. Neither of us came from particularly typical households, and he knew me and my struggles with my parents too well to be fooled by my feigned nonchalance.
Mark reached out, thumping me lightly on my knee. “Call me if you need someone to talk to. Any time and for any reason.”
I swallowed against the lump that formed in my throat at the sincerity in his eyes. “I will,” I promised.
Paul leanedback in his chair and nudged my laptop back toward me. “This is solid, man.”
“A-worthy, you think?”
He seesawed his hand. “Lusk can be tricky sometimes with his grading, but I have a strong suspicion you’ll be fine. Is there anything else you want me to look over? He’ll sometimes do a pop quiz second class after spring break. You feel like you’re grasping all the stuff on decision-making models?”
“Yeah, it’s the papers that give me more trouble. I’m not always good at organizing my thoughts coherently.”