The movie ended and though I tried to keep my mind out of what Rocky said. Of course, Cameron was not the kind of person that would let a girl win just a simple bet. After the movie, he let me decide what I wanted to do next. Wondering if this was the same routine with all the girls, I walked next to him but keeping my distance. Walking around the park, without saying anything at all. Just enjoying the sun falling down behind the apartment complex across the street. Walking down the hill, closer to the lake. Cameron kept scooting over, almost pushing me to the ground. He's expensive cologne was all over my clothes and my hair, which I kind of love. But I had to fight with myself to stay awake.
"Cut it out!" I complaint shoving him back, as he would come towards me. My voice neither serious nor happy. Cameron stopped and stood in front of me. His eyes stared into mine with intensity. Immediately making me look away to the lake.
I couldn't help but think of Rocky when I saw his face, and it hurt really bad to think about it. Just the thought of him and my best friend. I didn't want to imagine it, especially if according to Rocky; Cameron was still in love with someone else.
Then what was all this for? Why was life so unfair, why was a guy so full of life living like this? Why was I in love with someone like him? Why was my life going to end without experience love? It was depressing and dreadful to think about, it made tears appear in my eyes, but I forced them to stay inside, I needed them for later.
"Who's your favorite singer?" Cameron cut the silence, as I stared at the ducks swimming in the lake.
Caught by surprise with his question, I thought for a moment. Michael Jackson was one of my ultimate singers. Not because of the songs everyone liked, but because of the songs with a deeper meaning. I couldn't understand how people could think he was a criminal, and child molester when he would write songs like Human Nature, Will You Be There or Heal the World. Many songs to choose from, but society only liked his Thriller or his Smooth Criminal which were the only songs on repeat in the radio, never the good ones. What the world needed to hear.
"Michael Jackson," I answer simply. Cameron stopped to analyzed my answer for a moment.
"Why?" he asked.
Slowly walking back to my side, I didn't say anything this time. In March, the cold was already gone, breathing in the fresh Spring air, letting it fill my lungs maybe the last time I would get to enjoy a Spring. A knot formed in my throat at the thought. I sighed. Walking in the park with Cameron seemed like a dream, but trying to keep my mind, in reality, was difficult.