* THIS IS JUST A PROLOG. COMMENT TELLING ME IF I SHOULD CONTINUE!*[:
Exhausted Mattress: Cameron:
We’d been lying on my bed for over an hour, talking about anything and nothing. It was getting late and I knew Mercedes had to go, but I really didn’t want her
to. Whenever we end up on my bed, staring at my poster induced ceiling with the black lights on, I never want her to go. Even though she’s the one that has all the issues to talk about and it seems
as if absolutely nothing is going on with me, she comforts me the same way I comfort her.
Mercedes rolled over, onto her stomach, with her chin propped on my chest. She frowned. “My mom’s going to text back any second… I don’t want to go home.”
I smiled at her. “Your mom hates me enough, anymore and we might not get to hang out anymore.”
She laughed. “Like, I’d let that happen! And if it does… We’ll just have to runaway, wont we?”
I patted her head. “You’re not too street smart, kiddo. You’d want to go home in a matter of hours.”
“Soo?” She grinned wide, getting off my bed. “Walk me home?”
I groaned. “Fine…” I got off my bed and we headed upstairs. My room’s located in the basement.
We walked 4 blocks to Mercedes’ house, hand in hand, staring up at the stars. No noise but our breath and the midnight creatures. It was probably one of the
starriest nights Arizona has ever had, one of the coolest too.
As we walked up her driveway, the lights went on near the door and Mrs. Oliver came out in her robe and slippers. She glared at the both of us. “Where have you
been Mercedes Elizabeth? Your father and I have been waiting up for almost an hour. It’s completely unacceptable. Now, in the house, please. As for you, Mr. Reynolds, you should know better than to
keep her out this late. You know she has a curfew.”
I nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Oliver.”
“Yes, Mrs. Oliver.”
She was getting a bit irritated. “Mr. Reynolds.”
I laughed. “Yes, Mrs. Oliver?”
She grunted. “Mercedes. In the house. Now.” She turned around and went back inside.
Mercedes laughed and hugged me. “Y’know you’re really not helping the whole my- mom- hates- you situation.”
I held her tight. “I know. It’s fun, though.”
“Yeah. Just you wait.” She smirked. “Night, Cam.”
She walked inside and my heart rate finally started to slow. I turned around and walked back down her driveway and back the 4 blocks. Every time we hug before we
depart, my heart rate always picks up because somewhere in my brain, something’s telling me that I’m going to kiss Mercedes, that finally, she’s going to realize how long we’ve both waited for that
moment to happen and somehow, someway, we’re going to be together. But until that day, I’m just going to have to put up with the constant changes in my heart’s patterns.
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