Ghost Time

have also got all these projectors mounted that project wall-size skateboard and surfing and old BMX movies all day, and I have this huge walk-in closet that’s bigger than our whole apartment. It’s not serious or anything—I mean, it’s not like I think we’re going to get married and I’ve already named all our unborn children or whatever—it’s just a place I’m making for the two of us. Like if I could stop time and go anywhere I want to go, I’d be with Cam, and that’s where I’d take him, to our home.

MONDAY, APRIL 4, 2011
    (FOUR HOURS EARLIER)
    1:37 PM
    I’ve gotten used to it, the way people look at him all the time, because he’s such a pretty boy. He’s tall and thin and has this ruddy skin, never gets any zits. Sandy-blond hair, thin eyebrows, thin nose, long eyelashes that almost look like he uses a curling wand, with these big gray eyes—and his bone structure, like his cheekbones, are to die . And I’m not just saying that because he’s my boyfriend, either. Everyone notices, even guys.
    Seriously, Cam started shaving his head last year, and it makes his cheekbones stand out even more, so I started calling him Hitboy. Like the video game Hitman , right? So we cut last period, and on our way to my house, we pulled over to get some gas. Cam was about to get out, and I go, Wait—I’ve got to rub the Buddha. What I mean is, Cam’s got really thick hair, so after he shaves his head it gets all soft and bristly, and I can’t stop buffing his head with my hand ’cause it feels so good.
    So he leaned over, and I rubbed my hand back and forth a couple times. Okay, I said, but he’s such a smart-ass, he goes, Anything else you want to rub? I was just like, Keep your pants on, Buddha, and he goes, You know, Buddha was quite a lady’s man, and I rolled my eyes, and I go, Just fill ’er up, will you? And then Cam goes—never mind. I don’t know what it is, but boys and crudeness, it’s like a pig in mud, you know what I mean? Like, they just love to cover themselves and everyone else in it, right? Anyhow.
    I used to be so self-conscious, like if we were out in public, I always felt like people looked at me and looked at Cam, wondering what he was doing with me. But I’ve gotten over it pretty much, and now when people look, especially if it’s an older guy, I know it’s the car. Because Cam has this really cool old car—it’s so boss . He inherited his car from his dad—this gold color they don’t even make anymore. Seriously, they don’t make that color of paint anymore; it’s probably toxic or something. Anyhow, Cam’s dad died when he was a kid, and he’d bought the car for Cam because Cam was already working on cars by then. So his dad bought this old Dodge Dart for him to fix up, and he did, after his dad died. Took him two years to find all the parts, but he got it running, and now men check it out all the time. It’s a dude thing, you know?
    So, yeah, we were at the gas station, and this man walked over, and I got scared for a second, thinking he was going to scold us about not being in school, because he looked all uptight, but Cam didn’t get flustered at all. He was just standing at the pump, filling up, when the guy walked over and said, What is that, asixty-nine? And Cam said, Sixty-eight, and the guy whistles, nodding at the car. Then the guy goes—he was well-dressed, too, it’s not like he was a hick or anything—he goes, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in selling it, would you? Cam stopped pumping, and he put the pump back, and he goes, You don’t suppose right, and I’m in the car listening, but the guy goes, Well, if you should change your mind, and then he takes out his wallet and gives Cam his card.
    Cam took his card, and right then, his phone started ringing, so I handed it to him when he opened the door. I wasn’t really paying attention, but the man walked away, and I saw Cam start talking to someone on the phone, leaning his butt against the rear end of the car. Then he looked up and his head fell back, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. When he got back in, he had this look on his face, like he was somewhere else, and he checked the rearview mirror, watching the man pull away. What’s wrong? I said, turning, but the car was already on the highway. He’d been acting really weird all day, and he said, Nothing’s wrong, babe. I didn’t believe him, but he reached over and squeezed my thigh. Really, I just didn’t