Hey Romeo, Don't You Think You're Just a Tad Overrated?

"It is a double edged blade. It cuts and it slices, but it never leaves a visible mark. It hurts worse than a bullet wound and no scientist has found the curing medicine. I fear it sometimes. It manipulates you. Maybe it will break you in half. Maybe it will protect you like an invisible fortress. Will you take the risk, the chance, to be broken?"

-Excerpt from Camaxtli Gallagher's blue notebook

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Cam Gallagher met his best friend Max Austerlitz in kindergarten. They both lived in the big city of Chicago and they both attended the same elementary and junior high school. They both decided to apply to the prestigious McAllister Academy only a few hours away, and both had been accepted. Max was there for Cam when his mother had passed away, and Cam was there for Max when his dog was put to sleep. They were, as friends, inseparable.

"What's wrong, Cam?" Cam's father asked without taking his eyes off the road. "Didn't have fun on your ski trip?"

"It was good," Cam replied sullenly, gazing out the passenger side window, watching the trees flash by on the side of the highway.

"I saw your first semester report card. You're doing well. Your headmaster also states that you've been keeping up with your prefect duties. I think he said something like…"role-model student". Yep, those were his exact words. How did your lacrosse season go? Sorry I couldn't come to any of—Cam?" His father turned and looked apprehensively at his son from the corner of his eye.

"Mmm?" Cam suddenly turned, noticing his father had stopped talking. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, school's been good," he muttered absently.

His father's intuitive blue eyes narrowed. "Something's bothering you, Camaxtli, and I'd like to hear about it."

"Nothing's bothering me, Dad," Cam sighed, adjusting the seatbelt strap into a more comfortable position.

His father exhaled. "Cam, I was seventeen once too." His son didn't reply. "Girl trouble?"

Cam ignored his father and leaned over, fiddling with the radio to avoid conversation. Classical violin music oozed from the car's speakers. With a scowl, Cam changed the station until Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer started blasting through the car.

His father reached over and lowered the volume until the music was only background noise. "So, what's she like? Smart? Pretty?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Cam snapped, crossing his arms.

His father ignored him and continued talking. "Is she athletic? Plays on the girls' lacrosse team?"

At the mention of lacrosse, Cam snorted. "Yeah, right. She'd sooner end up in the hospital." After a moment's silence, Cam sighed again. "She's an enigma."

"Like your mother," his father spoke.

Cam managed a small grin. "Sorta like Mom…I knew I couldn't have gotten my rational side from her."

His father chuckled. "Of course. I was the balanced and careful one. Your mother on the other hand…was a whirlwind. A multi-colored whirlwind." There was a moment's pause. "This girl…do I know her?"

"Probably not," Cam replied shortly. There was another silence before he spoke again. "She's stupid, unreasonable, forgetful, impudent, loud, has no manners, has no hand-eye coordination, and she's not even pretty."

Cam's father laughed out loud. "I see why you like her. And?"

"What do you mean, 'and'?"

"What else is she like?"

Cam looked out the window again, getting at what his father was implying at. "She reads me like an open book," he whispered. "She knows how I'm feeling even when I try to mask it. She sees…me...just me…under all those layers of…" Cam broke off, taking in a deep breath before starting again. "She's honest, fiercely loyal and loves all of her friends, and she doesn't give up. Even though she probably doesn't know it, she's adorable when she's angry and trying to fight back, and she's not afraid to let go. And she's always happy…when she sees I'm happy…" he trailed off.

"You really like her," his father finally said.

"What difference does it make? Max and—never mind," Cam cut off abruptly as his father eased the car off the highway and the first signs of the city started emerging. Soon the air was filled with sounds of car horns, shoppers, angry taxi drivers, and business people walking the streets.

"What's with Max?" his father asked.

It was a long while before Cam spoke up again. "She went out with Max for almost three months and they broke up only a couple weeks ago," he explained. "And she…I don't think she…"

"Max is your best friend," his father commented as the slowly pulled into their high-rise apartment's underground parking.

"That's just it, Dad. He's my best friend," Cam muttered as his father killed the engine and opened the door.

His father pondered that for a moment. "Cam, when I was in high school my best friend and I both had this enormous crush on the same girl. When he asked her to homecoming one year, and she accepted, I felt jealous, frustrated, betrayed and angry at the same time."

"And?" Cam prompted as he helped his father with the luggage. Louis, the doorman, immediately rushed down to help them, greeting them kindly.

"I learned to let her go," his father replied simply. "Because I could tell that he really liked her. And I knew that she deserved him, because he was my best friend and I knew him best, and he was a good person. I couldn't ask for anything better, because they were both happy."

Cam was quiet as he slowly digested the story as the elevator took them up to the thirty-fourth floor.

"Why don't you visit Max later," his father suggested softly as he unlocked the door to their penthouse apartment.

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Max lived two blocks away from Cam, in a neat and modern townhouse. Cam walked to his best friend's house like he had done so many times before, the collar of his black coat turned up against the wind blowing from Lake Michigan and his hands shoved deep inside his pockets.

"You're back," was all Max said when he opened the front door for Cam. "How was the trip?" He asked as Cam closed the door behind him, following Max into the airy living room. Bright afternoon sunlight streamed from the high sky windows, lighting up the entire room with an ethereal glow and highlighting the white furniture.

"It wasn't too bad. I improved," Cam replied, unbuttoning his coat and casually throwing it over one of the chaise lounge chairs.

"Who the heck is in the ski club anyway? Other than Danny Fenner," Max asked, genuinely curious.

Cam shrugged. "Not a lot of people we know. Clarisse Wong, and K.C. Abramowitz. Devon Van Hoover, the soccer guy. You know Gina O'Malley, right? Yeah, she's in the club too…she's not that great, just a beginner I think…and…uh, Aurelie," he muttered, trailing off.

"Well, I guess at least Aurelie was there," Max muttered. "So you're not completely alone. Is she good at skiing?"

Cam smirked from the memory. "Olympic pro," he answered.

Max chuckled. "Well, I guess it's expected." There was a pause. "Come on, I want to get out of the house," he finally said, leaving the room and fetching his coat from the foyer's closet.

Cam picked his coat back up and slipped into it again. The two boys left the townhouse and ventured down the Chicago city streets. They walked in silence for awhile, the cold wind buffeting them as they turned the corner onto the busy Michigan Avenue. The air of holidays hung around all the shoppers as they bustled from one store to another, loaded with heavy bags and expensive items.

"What else happened on the ski trip?" Max suddenly asked.

"Huh? Oh, that. Uh, nothing, I guess. We all had to ski in pairs which was pretty stupid, and K.C. snores like some sort of freakin' beast, but the food was really good—"

"Cam, I know you like her," Max interrupted.

"Who, K.C.? You know he's a guy, right? I mean, it could be a girl's name too, but spelled differently, but man, nobody can like anyone who snores like—"

"Not K.C. you douchebag, Aurelie!" Max sounded thoroughly exasperated.

Cam almost stopped walking to stare at his best friend. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Max rolled his eyes and pulled his hood up. "I'm not stupid, Cam. You've liked her ever since we started P.E. lacrosse. You just never admitted it."

Cam sidestepped a harried looking businessman, his eyes down. "If you knew, then why did you still ask her out?" he muttered, noticing that he sounded like an extremely whiny child.

Max exhaled, his breath freezing into a white cloud. "I dunno. I was being childish, I guess. Truthfully, I was jealous of you, so I took her away from you before you could have her. Immature, right?" He laughed at himself.

"You never really liked her," Cam concluded.

"Not at first. I mean, I hardly knew her. But as I spent more time with her, I started to really like her. She's just…so different from every other girl. She really is compassionate and she actually…"

"…cares about you?" Cam suggested, and Max grinned in agreement. "Is that why you asked her to the Winter Formal after you guys broke up? Even though you knew that I liked her?" he asked. Max sighed and then nodded. "You really are an asshole."

His best friend laughed out loud. "So are you, Gallagher. Sneaking around with her and lying to me about it. You were an ass too."

"What can I say, we're both assholes," Cam shrugged.

Max smirked. They walked past the Water Tower. Up ahead, the Peninsula Hotel loomed over them. "You know she really likes you too, right? Even though she doesn't really show it. But you can tell…she looks at you differently than when she looks at me."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Cam sighed.

Max looked at him closely. "Cam…if you really like her, then you should go after her," he said quietly.

"What? I can't do that, that's ridiculous! I—"

"Dude, shut up," Max cut him off. "You do like her. And I know she likes you. She's always so happy around you. And you smile like a stupid idiot when you see her."

"I do not," Cam defended.

"Yes you do. Your smile goes from like here…to here," Max demonstrated, pulling the corners of his mouth up towards his ears, making a absurd face.

Cam laughed. "But Max…you…" he grew sober again.

"It's okay Cam." Max grinned reassuringly at his friend. "Plus, is it just me, or does Brynne Albright always hang over me? I mean, she probably doesn't know that we call her a whore behind her back, but the attention—"

"—boosts your ego and makes you feel like a horny bastard," Cam snorted.

Max burst out laughing, and Cam smiled, glad to hear his best friend's ringing laughter cut through the sounds of the busy traffic and people of the city. "Shut up," Max punched Cam in the shoulder, grinning. "Anyways, can we go back now? I'm freezing my ass off and I just got the new Call of Duty: Worlds at War and I'm dying to play it against someone."

"You're on, man. And this time, I'm getting the good console!" Cam laughed as he broke into a run, racing his best friend back to the townhouse, feeling as if a great weight was lifted off his chest.