Hemlock Clan: What I Am

~ XVII ~

Cameron

I glanced at my watch again. If I wanted to meet Blake, I should really be leaving now.

Right now.

Tugging on the sleeves of my long-sleeved t-shirt, I raked my eyes over my reflection in the bedroom mirror ... again.

White long-sleeved t-shirt over dark jeans and black boots. My usual attire, no matter what the weather. My hair was styled so it hid the scar and the long sleeves hid the evidence of my own self-abuse.

I looked ... okay. Nothing special. I certainly wouldn't stand out in a crowd. Definitely not like Blake.

I was nothing like him.

So why did I agree to this?

Tugging on my sleeves again, I sighed in frustration.

I didn't want to go. Didn't want to see him.

Well, maybe that was a little lie. I did want to see him. Who wouldn't want to? I mean, he was gorgeous.

But I didn't want to see him ... like this. With this damaged body and broken mind. I wanted to be ... perfect. Like him.

Yet I knew Rosie would start to grill me about my date the second I showed up at work tonight and God knew what she would say, or do, if I told her I didn't go. She was headstrong, determined, stubborn ... and scared me just a little.

Besides, standing him up would be a dick move. No one deserved that.

It wasn't like I had his number so that I could phone him and call it off. Anyway, what excuse would I give him?

That I was scared? Afraid to date? Too ashamed of my body?

Pretty sure we wouldn't end up in bed on our first date ... would we? Images of kissing Blake in my dream flitted across my mind and I wiped a hand across my forehead to chase them away.

I was an adult. Grown-up. I should be able to face my problems head on, not hide from them in my bedroom.

Fuck.

I was tired of this. Tired of my thoughts plaguing me. They didn't even leave me alone when I tried to sleep. My dream earlier today was a testament to that.

Maybe his appearance in my dream was the reason I didn't want to see Blake. The dream had been pleasant, even sexy, at first, but then ...

Why did I get the feeling of deja vu? When he opened his eyes ... when we were both surrounded by fire ... why had it felt real?

Nightmares about the fire were common for me ... but why was Blake in it? Was it because I was worried about seeing him tonight?

Fuck knows.

All I knew was that I was worrying myself sick.

Just go, chat with him, make it clear you want just this one date. Don't get pulled into anything with him.

I mean, he must have an ulterior motive for asking me out. Someone like him didn't date people like me.

A nobody. A no one.

Unless ... this wasn't a date? Maybe he was straight. Maybe he was just expecting a friendly conversation, looking to make another friend, something like that.

A fresh wave of panic gripped my heart. Sweat broke along my brow.

Oh shit.

Have I been reading too much into this?

I didn't know if he was gay. He didn't know I was gay. I was usually cautious about that kind of stuff, especially after the kids in the home found out I was gay ... the torments, names, bruises still fresh in my mind, even after all of these years.