Oblivious to Him - Part II

Chapter 2 - It's a Long Story

I looked down at the picture of my summer camp group that was taken 8 years ago.

 I was sitting right in the middle of my friends with a toothy smile and my crazy curls. Oscar walked over to me, took the frame into his hands, and pointed to the kid sitting next to me with a similar toothy grin. 

"That's me." 

"What!" I eyed him over, trying to mentally age him from that little boy to the man he was now. "How did I not recognize you?" I baffled. He definitely had a glow-up over the years but thank god that one dimple smile has stayed the same. 

"Would you honestly recognize any of the other kids in this picture today?" 

I shrugged my shoulders, "I would like to be able to say yes, but we both know that's not true apparently."

"Well, we only knew each other for that week, but it was the week that changed my life," he nudged me with his elbow, "do you remember sneaking out of the cabin to go stargazing?"

"Yes! I remember feeling like such a rebel. It was the first time a blatantly ignored a rule," I admitted. 

"Same here," he scooted closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, "but the other great part about that night was that I knew I had found my best friend." He squeezed me closer still, and my stomach flitted with butterflies. "I was so shy back then," he continued, "but you were the one person that I felt like I could really open up to. You were so kind and warm; how could I not become your number one fan?" 

I felt a blush creep up into my cheeks at such a heartfelt admission that I had to look away. 

"So, on the last day of camp, I had planned to get your house phone number or something so that we could have play dates," he released me and ran a hand through his hair, "but by the time I had convinced myself to do it, your mom had already picked you up."

He put the photo back on the dresser gently and walked me over to the bookshelf. He pulled out a photo album and opened it. There were pictures from that summer put neatly into the plastic sheets, "my mom had let me take a disposable camera with me," he explained, flipping through the different memories from that week. 

"Hold up, I want to look at these," I said, reaching for the book. 

He handed it to me but flipped it to the last page where there was a piece of paper tucked into one of the photo pockets, "first, I want to show you this," he pulled out the piece of paper and unfolded it. 

"This is the contact roster for all the kids. The minute I realized I had missed my chance of getting to ask for your number, I swiped this off the head councilors desk."

"You're kidding," I laughed. 

"Nope! I don't know what came over me, but suddenly, there was nothing that mattered to me more than getting your number. Sadly, all you had written down was your email address." he looked down at the paper, lost in the past. 

"So, does this mean the email you sent me wasn't by accident?" 

He scratched behind his neck again and looked away for a second to collect his courage, "I've known that I was talking to you since the first time I sent you an email," he finally admitted. I couldn't believe it. He had known who I was this entire time. 

"Why the hell didn't you just tell me who you were then!" I didn't mean to raise my voice, but he had lied to me for the last 7 years. 

"I was 11. I had crippling social anxiety. It was the only thing I could think of that helped me break the ice. I really did want to tell you after the first month, but I was stupid. I had buried myself into a hole I couldn't climb out of. Eventually, I just gave in to the lie I had created. I didn't mean to hurt you, Lana. You have to understand that," he grabbed my hand and squeezed it.