Loving Jamey Green

Chapter 2

Cam pulled up into the parking lot of his apartment and stopped the car. We both stepped out and headed upstairs. Cam put the keys into the door of his apartment and opened up the door, welcoming me inside. The place is, of course, a mess. There’s trash all over the coffee table in the living room, as well as on the floor and the couches. The kitchen sink is filled up with dirty dishes, as well as on the stove. The laundry basket is also filled up with dirty clothes. I can’t imagine how dirty Cam’s bedroom is or--oh, god--the bathroom. There are posters of metal bands all over the walls, covering almost every inch of the vicinity. The whole place screams Cambriel Sterling, the owner of this place.

    “Make yourself at home, Maxy,” Cam said, sitting down on one of the couches and opening his bag of food he got from Fat Burger. He opened up the wrapping of his burger and took a bite. “Come on, sit down,” he said, a mouthful of food in his mouth. I sat down across from him after I threw off some trash to the side.

    “Geez, Cam. When was the last time you cleaned this place?” I asked, looking around the room. There’s clearly been a party here not that long ago. That’s one thing about Cam--he’s an avid partier. He always has parties at his house, usually every other weekend when he’s off work. I can tell he’s had a party here recently, especially by the many empty beer bottles on the floor. I sometimes make it to his parties just for the hell of it, despite me being socially awkward and shy. I do gotta get out sometimes.

    “It’s been a couple weeks. I’m gonna get this place cleaned up soon, maybe tonight. Gotta get this place ready for my party this weekend,” Cam said, eating some fries from his bag.

    “You’re having another party?”

    “Yeah. Gonna invite over the rest of the band as usual, as well as some other friends. Gotta stay connected since we haven’t played any shows in a while,”

    “True,” I nodded. I wonder what Cam meant by “other friends”. Usually when we have a party, it’s just the band that comes over to Cam’s place, as well as whatever girl Cam decides to fuck. Hell, sometimes he brings over more than one if he’s really horny. Who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone new. I doubt it though. My social anxiety holds me back from doing that.

    “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about you staying here. If your folks aren’t gonna let you back in, I guess you’re gonna have to stay with me for the time being,” Cam said, drinking his shake. “You do realize that if you’re gonna live here, you’re gonna have to get a job, right?”

    “Yeah...I guess so,” I sighed, dreading the moment Cam mentioned getting a job. If only I didn’t have crippling depression and anxiety. God, mental illness sucks. So do customers.

    “Don’t worry. I’ll get you hooked up with something good that you can handle. How would you like to work at Francisco’s? You can be one of the cooks. One of them just quit, and we’re looking for one. All you gotta do is cook the pizzas and whatever else and do some food prep. You rarely ever have to deal with customers. Simple,”

    Hmm. Working at Francisco’s? Rarely have to deal with customers? Sounds easy enough...so far. I still got some questions, though. I wanna know what I could possibly be getting myself into.

    “Part time or full time?” I asked.

    “You can start out part time. You can work full time later on if you want. You don’t have to worry about how much rent you gotta pay. Just a little bit helps me out,” Cam smiled. “Plus, wouldn’t it be great to work together? I may not be in the place a lot since I do delivery work, but think about it. We would fuck shit up, man! What do you say?”