Unfair

I continued to stare at him as he strolled around my small dorm room, still holding my Russian History textbook.

“Yer favourite color is green isn’t it?”

I focused on his question then looked around my room. I guessed that most of the colors in there were variations of green.

Glancing at his face I answered,

“Yes.”

A triumphant smile broke out over his face. It sent a shiver down my spine, not one that I got when I was uncomfortable or scared. It was a different kind. I couldn’t quite tell what it was.

I shook myself from my thoughts because his silence was noticeable. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something. My eyes stared at his, lingering on his expectant face. Nothing came to mind. I couldn’t think of anything to say to him. So why was he so sure that I would ask something?

“What?” I asked quietly. He walked around my bed and up to me; I backed up until I sensed the desk right behind me. His eyes gazed into mine for the longest moment, his face completely serious.

I found that I was holding my breath; his body was so close I could feel the remaining cold from outside on his clothes. “Aren’t yeh going teh guess?”

I swallowed audibly, never taking mine off his. “Guess what?” My voice sounded a little breathless as I stared into his eyes, it felt like I was slowly losing IQ points the longer he stayed that close to me. Lack of sleep and the faint smell of cologne were messing with my mind.

His face broke out into a grin. “My name.” He backed away from me and sat on my bed, still staring at me. It took a lot of effort, but I didn’t put my hand to my heart and take deep breaths. Instead, I gripped the edge of the desk and silently caught my breath. He seemed slightly amused at my reaction; he must have been waiting for the reaction I had thought about doing.

My eyes looked away from his as I tried to recover quickly. “And how am I supposed to start? I have no clues, nothing to read,” I looked pointedly at the book that was laying next to him on my bed, “so how do I know where to start?”

He pouted for a moment, looking at the floor. His brows furrowed together and—

“Ok! Ok! Stop pouting! I’ll guess.” I pulled out the desk chair and sat on it in a huff. I swear he was like the children I worked with. If you ever told them they couldn’t do something or you didn’t know how, they would look distraught and make you feel guilty until you would give in and say that you would try.

Just as I thought that his face lit up, no sign of sadness in his features to be seen. I crossed my arms and looked at the sliding closet door for a moment, thinking. I took a deep breath and looked back at his excitedly expectant face, like a child waiting to open a Christmas present. He was nearly bouncing in anticipation.

“Alright, I’ll start with the obvious: John?”

He wrinkled his nose, “I don’t like teh paint with the colors of the wind.” I stifled a giggle.

“Ok then…Michael?”

“Do I look like the Regional Manager of the Scranton Branch of Dunder Mifflin?” He smiled crookedly. I laughed.

“I guess not. Um…Robert?”

“I wish. I love Planet Terror.”

It took me a moment to get that quip. Robert Rodriguez... “Planet Terror? I liked Death Proof better.” He stared at me for a moment.

“Yeh watched Grindhouse?” His eyes lit up and a disbelieving smile came across his face.

“Yes, I have,” I sniffed. I wasn’t totally out of touch with the world. I had access to a video store. “Anyway, enough about that. How about…Charles?”

“Alright that’s closer. Yeh have the first letter right.”

So it started with a C and was embarrassing for a boy…

“Caley?”

He grimaced, “Ok, it’s better than that.”

“Hm…Carey?”

He chuckled, it vibrated though his chest. “Nah.”

“Casey?” I bit my lip. He did not look like a Casey.

The look he gave me made me crack a smile. “Hell no.” I sighed. “It is ‘C-a’ though. Yeh’re the right track.”

“Hm… ‘C-a’… ‘C-a’…” I thought for a moment and put my index finger across my bottom lip. “Cameron?” I looked at him as he shook his head. My finger tapped at my lower lip and I began to pace a little. “Caleb?”

‘’Nope.”

“Carlisle?”

“I hope not.” I glanced at him grinning widely. He laid down on my bed and watched my progress in front of the desk, hands on his stomach. My mind drifted to the kids I had worked with, maybe one of them had a unique name. I snapped my head up and looked at him.

“Caeden.”

He was silent as he sat up and stared at me. “Yeah.”

I smiled in victory. So his name was Caeden.

“How did you know?” He leaned his forearms on his knees and gazed at me intently. I felt heat rise to my cheeks, the words stuck in my throat until I looked away from those deep blue orbs.

“There was a boy at a camp I worked at. He always got angry when the other kids called him ‘Cae’. He said it sounded girly.” I glanced at him.

“Well he was right…” He scrunched up his face at a memory. It was a childish movement, like sticking out your tongue, but it seemed like it was a part of him, as if it was part of his personality.

I glanced around my room quickly, double-taking when I saw the red numbers on the clock that rested on my desk. “Oh no!”

Caeden looked around, alarmed. “What? What’s wrong?” I looked back at him, an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness swept over me.

“It’s one in the morning…” I almost cringed at the whine in my voice. This had to have been the longest conversation I had in years, if not ever.

“And…?” I looked over at him. He had an amused smile lingering on his face.

“And…I’ve never….been up…this late…” I admitted, embarrassed by my lack of a rebel side. I always followed the rules and curfew had been one of them. The sisters had always been strict about curfew and I had never missed it while living with them.

“Well now, there’s a first time fer evr’ything.