Across the Atlantic

Chapter 4 - Camden

He looks up at the sound of his name. "What about me?" He asks, puzzled.

"I was just telling Cam how she has you at school for anything she might need, right? you'll help her out?" Julie stares at her son in question.

He takes a seat next to me as he replies, "Yeah, sure. Happy to help." He gives me a soft smile.

"Great! See Cam?" She turns to me, ecstatic once more, "Blakey here will be your tour guide and your first friend! You guys can even have lunch together! How fun would that be?" She's beaming.

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose on Blake. I'm sure he has other friends he'd rather want to sit with." I say, flustered.

"Nah everyone's chill. And we always have people at our table. You're more than welcome to join us." Blake turns to me and says in-between bites of food.

"If you're absolutely sure?" I ask again, not wanting to burden him.

"Yeah no it's cool. I'd like it if you sit with me." He mentions with a smile.

I notice the top of his ears go pink but think nothing of it.

**
I'm sitting Blake's car again, my bag at my feet, as he drives us to school.

The window is down and the slight breeze is cooling off my face in the heat of the morning.

The radio is softly playing some random song I don't know, and the two of us sit in silence.

I take the opportunity to really look at Blake. His tight-fitted black shirt that looks like it was tailored specifically to his insane body, his distressed black jeans and a pair of sneakers that pull his entire outfit together perfectly.

The boy has style.

My eyes travel along the slope of his nose and his throat and down his arm, lingering on his hand that's loosely holding the steering wheel in place, his bicep straining against his impossibly tight shirt whenever he takes a turn.

"You done staring?" He breaks the silence but keeps his eyes on the road.

I startle and avert my eyes to the landscape in front of me. "Wasn't staring." I  shrug nonchalantly.

He chuckles softly. "Yeah, sure you weren't." I see his lips tip up slightly as he says it.

We fall into another not uncomfortable silence.

I can't take it anymore so I ask, "Is there anything I  should know about the people before we get to school?"

He takes his eyes off the road and looks at me for a split second and grins before turning back and saying, "The people at Creekwood are cool. The ones I know, anyway. I have a couple friends that I hang out with on the daily — which you're welcome to be apart of, if you want — and the teachers aren't half bad." He tips a shoulder.

"You said you play basketball, right?" He nods. "So does that mean you're one of those jocks who wear letterman jackets and think they're better than everyone?" I tease and tilt my head towards him as I angle my body in his direction.

He barks out a laugh. "Only tv calls athletes, jocks. We're just people, who happen to play a sport. But call it what you will." He looks at me again and smiles.

"I can help you find your classes by the way, if you want? The school is kinda big and difficult to make sense of if you're new." He offers.

"That's sweet. Yeah, okay, you can show me to my classes." I admire his kindness towards me. I know I wasn't what he was expecting when he was told he had an exchange student coming to live with him, so I appreciate him going out of his way to make me comfortable.