Dean felt like he was in the matrix. Here he was sitting right back in the British-Lit class he thought he'd long left behind.
It was strange to see everyone again, especially after having thought he'd never see most of them again.
Mrs. Murray asked, " Who wrote the "Songs of Innocence " "Songs of Experience" and "Visions of the Daughters of the Albion" And was an English poet, painter, and print maker?"
The class was quiet.
"Hmm, perhaps I should call on someone." She questioned.
Still with no volunteers she called on Dean.
"Dean?".
He snapped out of his trance.
"Hmm?"
"I asked if you know the answer."
"Oh um." Dean cleared his throat. "Was it William Blake?"
Mrs. Murray smiled, "Very good Dean, I was hoping someone would get it, that was in your last study guide."
Dean gave a small smile, but really he knew, because before, he was asked this question, and he answered wrong, Camille had came by and answered through the door with a smile... But he knew she wouldn't come by this time.
After school Dean waited down the hall, a little ways from Camille's locker. He knew she'd walk out this way and he was determined to catch her.
Eventually Camille did come down the hallway, strands of her hair having fallen out over the wear and tear off the day.
She heaved a sigh as she unlocked her locker. She shoved the heavy books into her backpack and then closed it walking down the hallway in Dean's direction.
Just then Dean pretended to be coming out of the bathroom and "bumped" into her.
"Ah, my bad, I'm sorry."
Camille was ready to dismiss it, and then she noticed it was Dean.
"Oh... It's you..."
"Dean, my name's Dean."
"Oh um... Well it was nice to meet you, but I've got to get home."
"Well are you sure you want to carry all that heavy stuff all the way home, I could give you a lift, I promise I don't bite."
Camille hesitated.
" I don't think I-"
Dean interrupted.
" Look I promise I just, you look like you'd have a hard time, I just wanted to help, I mean but if you really don't want to then that's okay too."
Camille must've seen the dejected look on his face.
Though she didn't want to, she spoke with a grimace, "Sure, but only for today."
Dean tried not to look too excited.
"Alright."
He held his hand out as if to say "let me take that for you." And took her backpack onto his shoulder.
He led her out to his car and then buckled himself in. The he started the car and tried to drive as smoothly as he could.
He felt like the 10 minutes it took driving to her house lasted for five seconds, he wished he had more time with her.
Camille was quiet and Dean looked over smiling before seeing her unsmiling face, and her narrowing eyes.
"How did you know where I live? I didn't even get a chance to tell you..."
Dean panicked and the blurted out the first thing. " I work at the farmers market, there was a delivery here before... My mom she knows your mom and knows you are her daughter, so I just remembered..."
Dean knew that didn't sound believable, he also knew Camille was smart enough not to fall for it.
She nodded and gave a sigh and then said, "Listen I don't know what your sudden interest in me is, but I'm not interested in being a part of it, and whatever person you were looking for is not me, I already made that clear."
"No Cami- Camille I just... I just wanted to be your... Friend."
Her eyes sharpened.
"And why? Why do you keep calling me that? No one but my grandmother calls me that."
Dean shook his head.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable... I would like to be on good terms with you, I've always wanted to be your friend."
Camille stared at him skeptically for a few more seconds and then hopped out the car without saying anything else.
Dean heaved a sigh, the words getting stuck in his throat. He leaned down and put his head against his steering wheel.
~Idiot Dean, you Idiot, how can you get close to her if you keep scaring her off!~
He gave one last solemn stare at her house before driving off back home.