Look at You

Chapter 14

14

Cam arrives at my house at 8:15 a.m. to pick me up. And here I was thinking he was only an early bird to get to the office to see me.

I open the passenger side door and slide in. "Good morning," I tell him, setting my backpack on the ground. "Cinnamon roll?" I open the lid of the Tupperware I'm holding for good measure.

Cam is speechless. "You made cinnamon rolls?" He reaches over to grab one and I hand him a napkin from the stack I've brought with me.

I nod. "I went to sleep at 9:45 Cam. I was up and at 'em this morning."

He takes a bite, staring at me. He chews, swallows. "Your mom made these."

She did. "Well, I'm officially offended."

He shoves the rest of the cinnamon roll into his mouth very ungracefully and pulls the car into drive. "How are you not hungover? I saw you drink at least three different types of alcohol last night!"

"I told you Cam, I just don't get them." It's true. I hardly drank any water yesterday either.

He eyes me, like this fact is a personal attack against him. "So if I just turn the music up a little bit..." he turns the dial up slowly. Today it's Oasis, Wonderwall. "That wouldn't bother you?"

"Not at all," I tell him, only now noticing the tall Starbucks waiting for me in the cupholder. I pull it out and take a sip. "Thank you for this, by the way."

Cam gasps like he's on stage auditioning for a high school musical. "He's even thanking me?"

I blow air out of my lips. "I always thank you."

He laughs at this. I smile, very much knowing this is not in the slightest bit true.

He reaches a hand out to turn the volume down, apparently satisfied with my non hangover enough to partake in regular conversation.

"You got plans this weekend?"

This weekend is my birthday, but I don't say that. "Not really, no." Grandma is coming over for my annual birthday feast on Saturday night. I've already invited Callie and Trey as well.

"Good," he downs a sip of his coffee. "Because we have plans."

I turn to face him. "Oh?"

"Guess who is going to be at the Penguins game on Saturday night?"

I haven't been to an NHL game in ages, and we aren't Penguins fans, so I can't even pretend to make an educated guess about an ex-player or someone else in the hockey league who may be in attendance. But Cam's looking over at me every few seconds, just eagerly waiting for me to answer his question.

So, I send a very sarcastic shot in the dark. "Could it be... The president?"

He shakes his head, eyes still darting between me and the road. He asks me, "What's the best fried chicken in the world?" And suddenly, I know exactly why we're talking about the Penguins game.

"No fucking way." Cam's nodding excitedly, but he says nothing. He's loving my open-mouthed reaction. "Big Al is going to be at the Penguin's game?"

He had been trying to play it cool, but now Cam practically bursts. It's clear that he's been waiting to tell me this since I set foot in the Hot Boy Truck this morning. "Yup. Him and his chicken."

"No way."

"And it's his last stop on the East Coast before he goes back to California. It's fate."
Suddenly Cam tosses me his phone. It's unlocked and open on an email. I have to bring it close to my face to read it because he keeps his iPhone 6 brightness on level one to save battery. When I can finally see the contents of the email, I realize it's a ticket confirmation for the Pittsburgh Penguins game this Saturday. Two tickets. 6 p.m.