Taylor's POV
"Guess what." Cameron said, taking a seat beside me in the lunchroom.
"What?" I ask, looking up at him with a smile.
"I got a mark update in Functions." He starts, resting his head on his palm and looking at me.
"And?!" I ask, feeling excited for him.
"I'm at a forty-two. Already." He smiles. It was a big jump from the thirties.
"That's awesome." I grinned. I really was happy for him.
"I know. I would never have thought I'd be this excited to go up in a class." He laughs, and I get what he means. He has told me that he's never had good marks, or even cared to try. The fact that his mark had already jumped so much so early in the year was great.
"I'm proud of you," I tell him honestly. "But we're not done yet."
"I know." He nods.
"Do you wanna..." I gesture, not saying it out loud. "Right now?" Cam had told me that he was a bit embarrassed to be tutored, and I get it. I didn't wanna say it in front of everyone, in front of the table.
He shakes his head. "I just wanna eat. But I was thinking maybe after the game tonight you could come over, we'll study at my house. My parents won't be home, don't worry." He offers.
"Uh, sure." I answer.
Was I nervous to go over? Of course. Was I nervous that his parents wouldn't be home? Of course. But we were just going to study, and I was friends with him. We'd be fine.
It was true that although Cameron and I had only been talking for a short amount of time, we've become... well acquainted with each other. I might even say friends. We spent a lot of time together talking, and not just about math. I also saw him a lot because of hockey.
The rest of the day passed by pretty quickly, as quick as could be for a crippled girl. Our team had a game right after school, now feeling more pumped than usual that Jonathan finally could play. I caught up with him as the last bell rang and we walked to the change room.
"Nervous?" I ask him.
"I don't know. I'm usually not, but I feel like people are counting on me today, since we've been losing so much." He says, and I know what he means.
"I think you're going to do great. You always do." I say.
"Thanks." He raises his eyebrows, not looking at me. I proceed to the bleachers, sitting wherever I can find an empty spot. I have to admit, it was a lot less lonelier when I'd be sitting up here with Jonathan. I really did hope he was okay. He's been acting different lately.
The game went on as usual, I tried to stay quiet this game after getting a weird look from some of the other teams' fans. But I watch in quiet frustration as our team goes down by two in the first. The only memorable thing that happened other than the goals was being able to hear Jonathan yelling even from up at the bleachers. Otherwise, everyone walked to the change room with a big frown on their face.
I think everyone knew that our team was doing a lot shittier lately. Nobody could tell what it was, either, because obviously if Coach knew, he'd do something to fix it.
The other team came out strong in the second, too. At one point, the puck bounced around our net. Noah retrieved it, looking around quickly before passing it up to Jonathan. He flew by their defence and buried the puck behind the goalies' pads. Everyone was celebrating except for him, though.
The team tried again and again to score, but we were getting outplayed. The game ended in a 4-1 loss for us.
Cameron told me to meet him in the parking lot beside his car rather than outside the change room. I was fine with this, since I didn't want to have to see everyone's sad faces after losing the game.
I must've been waiting for about twenty minutes, playing some stupid game on my phone to pass the time. After only a few weeks, I still hated being in a cast. It just restricted me from so much in my day to day life.
Anyway, I was leaned up against his pick up truck until finally I saw him. He looked upset as he walked through the parking lot, running a hand through his damp hair. He spotted me in front of his truck with an over exaggerated wave. I couldn't help but laugh.
"Please don't talk about that game. I know we sucked." He says right as he reaches me.
"It wasn't that bad." I lie for his sake. He unlocks the door, so I get in awkwardly, since the truck was so high up from the ground.
He turns on the car and the radio starts, some country music-type song. Oh my god. Is this the kind of music he listened to?
He turns the volume down, turning to me. "It was bad." He says. "I don't know. It sucks. I thought this was a winning team, that's what Braden said." He tells me, beginning to drive.
"The team hasn't been the best lately." I say truthfully.
"Is it because you're not playing?" He asks me, moving his hand to rest on my leg. Woah. Thank god I'm a person who assumes the best of everyone and believes that was just a friendly gesture.
"I'm not really good." I say honestly. "Losing me was probably better for the team." I say.
He sighs, like he's upset by what I said. "Don't say that."
"Hockey isn't my best... thing." I say, feeling like I was having trouble speaking.
"What is? Math?" He jokes, sending me a smile.
"Believe it or not, math isn't my best subject." I tell him.
"God, so you're smart in other stuff, too?!" He jokes with a laugh.
The rest of the ride's like this, joking about everyday stuff with the country station still playing in the background. To be honest, I never would've taken him as a country kind of guy. I guess you learn new things about people all the time.
Cam unlocks the door to his house once we get there, with nobody home, just like he said. His house is surprisingly warm for the season, so he suggests we set up camp in the basement. He has a table in the basement that he sets his textbook and such on, pulling up two chairs. We both sit down as I look around his beautifully decorated basement.
My eyes fall on the huge booze collection in the glass cabinets. "Quite a collection." I comment. His eyes follow mine to the cabinet.
"Huh? Oh, that." He laughs. "Let's take a celebratory shot!"
"A celebratory what?" My eyes widen.
He gets up, walking over to the cabinet. "A shot. To celebrate my mark." He says like it's obvious. He takes out a big bottle and two small glasses from the cabinet, closing the door. "You down?"
"Uh, sure I guess." I say. "Why don't you get us bigger cups?"
He looks at me as if I had two heads. "Because these are shot glasses." He pours the liquid into both cups. "Have you... never taken a shot?" He chuckles, bringing the cups over.
"No." I say awkwardly. "I've only gotten drunk once, it was at my uncle's fiftieth off of wine and beer." I say.
He smiles, coming to sit next to me. "Then this should be fun." He places the cup in my hand. "You kinda tilt your head back, and pour the drink into your mouth, all at once. You ready?"
"What is this?" I ask, smelling it.
"Come on!" He chuckles. "3...2..." We both drink what's in the glass at the same time.
"Ooh." I say, my face twisting when I'm done. "That's strong."
"That's the point." He says. "Did you like it?"
"I'm not sure." I say. "Let's... do our math."
I moved my chair so it was over beside his, examining where in the textbook we were. I read over the content, preparing to try and reteach it to him, but with his elbow on the table, head resting on his hand, he didn't look focused.
"Do you not wanna do this?" I asked him. "I don't wanna teach to a wall."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. "I just keep thinking about our game."
"I know, but you have to focus on this." I sighed.
"How about this." He starts, sitting up. "You teach the lesson to me. Then you ask questions. For every question that I get right, you take a shot. But for every question that I get wrong, I have to take a shot."
"Seriously?" I raise my eyebrows, trying to contemplate if this would be a good idea or not.
"Yes." He laughs. "It'll motivate me to focus."
"Fine." I agree.
Cam stands up. "Let me pick out some drinks." He walks back over to the cabinet, pulling out four more bottles and leaving them on our table. "I'm ready to learn." He smiles, all his attention now on me.
"You're gonna need your calculator." I tell him. "Now, let's learn about rational functions." I say over-enthusiastically. I'm surprised at how well he listens for the next 20 minutes as I try and take what's in the textbook and explain it, making it easier to understand. It also helped that this was a concept we talked about last year, so I hoped maybe this unit would be a good one for him.
"Okay, first question." I smiled, closing the textbook. "How would you find the vertical asymptote?"
"Ea-sy." He grins. "In the equation, you set your denominator to 0 and solve for x. Pick your drink babe." He chuckles, pushing forward two bottles. One was red, and one was clear. I picked the red one, reading the word Strawberry on the label. He poured it for me, right to the top, and I took the shot.
"Does this mean I have to ask harder questions?" I ask playfully.
"No, no, we're just starting." He says.
"How do you find the horizontal asymptote?" I ask next.
He stops to think. "It depends on which degree is bigger, the numerator or the denominator. I don't remember which one is for which, though." He tells me. He was right.
"I don't know..." It was a pretty half-assed answer.
"Oh, c'mon! I'm still right." He says.
"Fine." I pick the clear drink this time, pouring it myself and taking the shot. God that was strong.
Our little game continued on like this until I had asked around 15 questions. I had taken majority of the shots.
"Next question." He smirks, leaning back and crossing his arms.
"I can't." I say. My head is swirling to the point I feel it may fall off. God, I didn't want this to happen.
"I'm too... I think I'm drunk." I mumble, looking up at him.
"I think you are, too." He chuckles.
"I feel weird." I say, letting out a short laugh at his face. He stands up and goes to the fridge where he takes out a beer, cracking it open and taking a sip.
"I guess no more functions?" He asks with a smile.
"No, you did great, though! I'm proud of you." I nod, smiling.
He takes a sip, sitting back down across from me.
I just couldn't stop focusing on this damned chair I was sitting on. "God, this is so uncomfortable! What's with these dumb chairs!" I exclaimed, trying to shift my position.
"Okay, Taylor, calm down." He said. "Here, why don't we sit on the couch?"
I stand up, not seeing where my crutches were. "Take my hand." He says, appearing by me with an outstretched hand.
"No, I don't need it." I push him away. "I don't even need my crutches."
I try hopping a few steps to the couch, failing miserably. I was on the floor in seconds.
"Fuuuuuck." I moan.
"Oh, my god, is your foot okay?" He asks, kneeling beside me.
"I'm fine." I groan, sitting up. "This wasn't a good idea."
"Getting drunk, or trying to walk?" He smiles, taking my hands and helping me up.
"Both." I admit, laughing. He leads me to the couch where we both take a seat.
"I'm sorry, if I knew it was gonna be like this, I would've stopped you..." He says. I shake it off.
"It's okay." I say. "Are you not...?"
"I'm a bit tipsy, but I'm fine. Let's talk."
"About what?" I laugh.
"Whatever you want." He laughs back.
"Can you play music?" I ask. "Just not your country music, please." He laughs.
"You didn't like it?" He looks offended.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to be rude!" I say.
He scrolls through his phone, finally picking something. I've never heard of it, but it had a good beat.
"So." I say.
"Do you wanna kiss?" He blurts out.
"Huh? Me and you?" He nods. "For what?"
"For fun, I don't know." He shrugs.
I turn my body on the couch so I was facing him, my bad foot hanging off the couch, and my good one crossed in front of me. I put both my hands on his cheeks. He leaned in close, but before he got too close, I moved away, laughing.
"What?" He asks.
"I'm sorry, I was nervous." I'm still laughing. "You're so funny."
Instead of answering, he connected our lips. I kissed back with force, as if I've never done it before. God this situation was so awful. It made me laugh.
"How are we supposed to do this if you're laughing?" He asks, pulling back and chuckling too.
"I'm sorry!" I smile, leaning into him again. This feels so cool, so nice. I've never done this before with someone random. And, I mean, Cameron was nice enough. What was the harm?
"Okay, okay, enough." He now laughed, finally leaning back after what felt like a beautiful ending.
"What, you didn't like it?" I pouted, resting my hands on his shoulders.
"No, I did." He smiles. "That was fun." I nod.
"Fun. Kissing is so fun!" I say, leaning back on the couch.
"I guess." He laughs.
"It's so weird. You're squishing lips with someone." I laugh too, just imagining the situation.
"You're funny." Cameron says.
"I know!" I exclaim, sitting back up with wide eyes. "I always say it! Nobody believes me."
"You think you're funny?" He says with a chuckle too.
"Yeah." I pout. "You just said it."
"Yeah, I did." He nods. "Anyway, how are you feeling?"
I put my hand on his shoulder to steady myself. "My head hurts. I think I'm fine."
The rest of the night went by the same, talking, making jokes, just having a good time with each other. We didn't do anymore math, obviously, because we both weren't up to it.
I don't remember how I got home that night. All I remember is passing out right away in bed.
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drunk taylor is annoying sorry not sorry :$ leave a vote if you'd likeeee