Bad Things

Nineteen: Anger & Secrets

Cameron drove and I watched him.

It's just that simple because everything else around us seemed quiet. He kept his eyes on the road, giving me an occasional look but I wasn't bored, how could I be when I'm with him? I'm at the edge of my seat with nerves about this date or whatever Cameron thinks it is. I have high expectations but at the same time I know better than to set expectations.

Why would I set expectations for people instead of allowing them to show me who they are? It was a great flaw of mine that I'm working hard on. I'm far from perfect and I will never pretend to be flawless, if someone is taking a chance on me then I won't let anything stop me from taking a chance on someone - especially Cameron.

"Tell me about your tattoos," I ask him suddenly. He never really went too far in depth with the significance of any  of his ink, maybe this car ride would give us a chance to talk about the small things.

Cameron glances over at me with his brows furrowed in confusion, "Why? It's tattoos. Nothing special."

I raise an eyebrow at him and laugh lightly, "Why not? Unless you have something better to talk about?"

He runs his fingers through his dark hair, looking at the tattoo on his forearm that was a small skull outlined. Not a lot of detail and very simple, "That's a skull."

"Ya don't say," I roll my eyes at his sarcasm, "Why did you get a skull tattooed on you?"

"I don't know, Olivia. Because when I walked into the tattoo shop there was a warning label on the alcohol bottle and it was a skull," He shrugs his shoulders and stops at a red light, "Sorry to disappoint you but there's no deeper meaning to these things. Not for me."

I wasn't going to settle for such a basic answer. He permanently inked his body and there's no way he did that without thinking through exactly what he was marking on his skin, "You have one on your chest."

"I do."

"What does that one mean to you?" I ask.

"Olivia, I have five tattoos on my chest. You're going to need to be more specific." He seems annoyed but I know that he isn't, when he's annoyed with me his voice becomes rougher and he shows it on his face expression.

I remember when Cameron took his shirt off when we were making out in the bar, a ram of some sort, "The ram."

"I'm an Aries. It's my zodiac sign."

Finally, I managed to learn something about him, "When is your birthday?"

"April 19th."

He's so short with his answers but at least I'm getting answers from him, "That's soon. Do you have plans?"

"No."

"Lets do something," I suggest, thinking of ways that we can celebrate Cameron's birthday on such short notice, "We can get all of your frien--"

"No. I don't celebrate it," He says, he's serious - that's something I can tell right off the bat and I want to know why he doesn't celebrate but I know better than to push my luck. Cameron quickly changes the subject, "What about you, huh? I know you don't want to be a bartender forever. What's your plan?"

That's a good question. Truthfully, my first goal is to go to college, but it isn't like I can tell Cameron that without him knowing that I'm still in high school, "I haven't really thought about it. I'm happy where I am at my life so I guess it hasn't crossed my mind just yet."

As Cameron drives he responds to my statement, "You deserve a hell of a lot more than working in a bar, you know that, right? There has to be something that you're passionate about, you're good with money stuff. Why don't you be a banker or something?"