Ch. 34- Well, Damn

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Deja's POV

"Uhh, can you repeat the question?" I ask.

"I said, why do you care more about me kissing you than me killing you?"

"Can I phone a friend?"

"Sure, but I'm the only friend you have at the moment."

"No, I have my mom."

"Who you hate."

"Dammit, you know me too well!"

"Why can't you just answer my question?"

"Cameron and Deja, please keep your talking to a minimum, the program is about to start." Ms. Kits says while walking down the steps like she usually does.

I would never think that I'd ever say this, but thank God for Ms. Kits' interruptions.

~~~

"That's the session for today." Ms. Kits says, turning off the monitor.

I don't see the point in this whole program anyway. I never pay attention. If anything, this program lets me drift off and mentally play music.

Today, I drifted off while staring at Cameron staring at the monitor. Damn, I am creepy. I think I've officially come to the realization that I like Cameron.

Well damn, I like Cameron.

I can't like Cameron. I don't want to like Cameron. I love being friends with him and I don't want to mess it up, but every time I look at him, I can't help but wonder what he looks like shirtless.

Or maybe more than just shirtless...oh my gosh, Deja stop that right now. His grey joggers aren't helping me that much either.

Cameron won't even like me back anyway. He has complete apathy when it comes to the topic of love and relationships.

"Looks like we ended a few minutes early so, stay in here for the remainder of the time." Ms. Kits says, looking at her Apple Watch.

Damn, I thought this woman was a teacher. What type of teacher has Apple Watch money?

"So, Deja you still didn't answer my question from before."

"What are you trying to get out of this?" I ask, taking a water bottle out of my bookbag to help me quench my thirst.

"I guess I just want to hear you say that you like me." He says, biting his lower lip.

I choke on my water and start coughing. "Don't flatter yourself, Cameron. Trust me, you are good looking, but I don't like you like that."

"Sure, Deja."

"What, I'm not lying." I lie. "Also, I need your help."

"With..."

"Well, do you remember a few weeks ago when you were standing at your locker and you told me that you could help me with my math if I needed help with it?"

"Yeah."

"I have an 81 in Trig so, I need you to help me."

"An 81 isn't even bad, Deja, but if you want to, I could help you."

"That'd be great. How about Friday afterschool at your place?" I suggest.

I know Friday is my birthday, but I don't want to focus on my birthday on my birthday. Ever since I turned 16, I haven't cared much about my birthday.

"Sure, I just gotta clean up."

"I know right, I hate when we have company and my mom makes me clean my bedroom even though no one's even coming upstairs."

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