Starbird

Chapter 14

The school week passed slowly, to say the least. I was waiting for it to get better, but it never did. Like I thought before, one-on-one classes proved to be an issue with me constantly daydreaming more than I’d care to admit. I had a huge hunk of homework lying on my desk and Rowan constantly asking us to hang out. As each day passed, though, she calmed a bit more. Thank goodness, because I would never introduce her to James if she was going to freak out and faint. When Saturday hit, I decided against doing anything major and did the one thing I knew well and loved: art.

The living room was littered with all of my art supplies. Papers, pencils, markers, and paints covered the entire coffee table, most of the floor, and half of the couch. My mind was strung from five cups of coffee and several snack wrappers could be found in the mess of art on the ground. I was trying my hand at freehand, something I didn’t usually do. Typically, I liked having a model or something to copy, but I always felt good after I worked my brain to get the picture out of my head and on paper, not to mention Art Seminar homework. At least the house was empty so I could blast my music and spread all of my work across the house.

The doorbell threw me off and my head snapped to attention. Nobody else was home, meaning I would have to answer the door. What if it was a murderer though? Being strung on caffeine and sugar, I somersaulted towards the stairs, crawled down the stairs on my stomach, and then ninja rolled towards the door. Sliding up, I put my eye to the peephole only to see a tall figure wearing sunglasses, a beanie, and the hood of his jacket was pulled over his head.

“Who is it?” I said in a high pitched, sing-songy voice, attempting to sound British. The person’s face crinkled in confusion.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” the voice responded, low and British. 

“I’m Mrs. Nesbitt!” I replied, not giving a second thought to the name that popped into my head. 

“Camille?” The person’s face looked more humored now. “Did you seriously just use Buzz Lightyear’s name when he gets kidnapped by Sid’s sister?” In my caffeine-strung mind, I realized that I did, in fact, used Buzz Lightyear’s other name. But I couldn’t let the strange person know that, so I remained indifferent.

“No, my name is Mrs. Nesbitt, now who the heck are you?” Six cups of coffee in the past few hours probably wasn’t the best idea. The figure looked warily up and down the street, before pulling off his hat, hood, and shades. My eyes widened excitedly as I flung open the door.

“Liam!” I practically yelled, throwing my hands in the air. 

“Cam!” He imitated my enthusiasm. “Or is it Mrs. Nesbitt?” He asked, a smirk crossing his lips.

“Whichever works for you,” I waved my hand to signal he could come in as I started walking towards the stairs.

“Are you drunk or something?” He said as I heard the door slam and he followed me up.

“I don’t drink, Liam. You should know this,” I fake scolded.

“I know, but you’re acting a little strange,” he commented as I hopped up the stairs.

“I had a couple cups of coffee.”

“A couple as in two or a couple as in...?”

“Six, and the next pot is brewing right now,” I said, reaching the top of the stairs.

“That is the last thing you need.” I shrugged as I turned towards the kitchen, Liam still following me.

“What are you doing here anyway?” I asked.

“Wow, no need to be rude.” I mumbled a quick apology. “James and I were supposed to go play a game of football with the lads. Where is he?” I turned to face Liam.