The Icebreaker

Chapter 4: The Wrong Digit

Deja Whitfield's house sat three streets back from campus, close enough to walk but far enough that her parents didn't have to worry about noise complaints from the dorms, and by nine o'clock on Saturday night, it was a full house. Everyone's having a good time chatting, dancing, eating and drinking... Not to mention, having fun flirting at each other.

Cameryn is just standing somewhere at the party, while looking bored. If it hasn't been Deja, she would rather sleep in the dorm with her Hello Kitty pajamas and without make up on...

She promised herself she'd stay for an hour. Maybe ninety minutes if the cake was good.

"You look like you're doing math," Deja said, suddenly appearing behind her with a party hat crooked on her head and a red cup she'd clearly already refilled once.

"Please don't do math at my birthday party."

"I'm not doing math."

"You're calculating exit strategies. That's a kind of math."

Cameryn laughed despite herself. "Fine. I was giving myself an hour."

"Extend it. My boyfriend invited some guys from Ridgeway and I need backup in case they're insufferable." Deja tugged her toward the kitchen by the sleeve. "Also there's cake. Good cake. Not gas station cake."

"You had me at not-gas-station cake."

The kitchen was louder and more crowded than the living room, dominated by Deja's boyfriend, Marcus Whitaker. Cameryn recognized the Ridgeway Hockey jersey, and she definitely noticed the guys laughing as if there's no tomorrow and it annoyed her a bit.

"That's them," Deja said under her breath. "Fair warning, one of them is apparently a legend over there. Play defense, scores goals, everyone loves him, et cetera."

"Sounds exhausting." Cameryn shot back.

"Extremely. You'll probably hate him."

When Cameryn and Deja finally joined them, Marcus did the introductions.

"Guys, I want you to meet my awesome girl, Deja Whitfield, the birthday girl, and her best friend Cameryn Ross..."

"Happy Birthday, Deja. And nice to meet you, Cameryn. I'm Julian Vasquez. And these are my guys, Ferris Coyle and---!" Julian stopped at mid-sentence when Beckett suddenly extended his hand towards Cameryn for a handshake.

"My name's Beckett... Beckett McCallister." he introduces himself with a small smile.

"Hi. I'm Cameryn Ross."

Cameryn secretly surveyed Beckett McCallister. She noticed that he had this sort of easy, unbothered friendliness that usually made Cameryn suspicious on principle, because in her experience, people who seemed that comfortable in a room were usually performing it.

"Cameryn Ross," he repeated, like he was testing the name out. "Wait, you're from the dance team, right? I think I saw you at that promo thing they did before one of our game match with Cedar Falls. The banner photos."

"Guilty."

"You guys looked a lot more coordinated than my entire team looks in warm-ups, for the record."

"Low bar."

"Extremely low bar," he agreed, while grinning.

They talked for longer than she meant to. About the game, about how Ridgeway's campus compared to Cedar Falls', about a professor Beckett had in common with her roommate that apparently everyone hated for the same specific reason. He was easy to talk to in a way that had nothing to do with trying, and he asked questions and actually waited for the answers...

It would have been fine, all of it, if he hadn't pulled out his phone toward the end of it, thumb already hovering over a new contact screen and asking her...

"Can I get your number? I feel like I'd lose this conversation to the party otherwise."

And that was the moment something in Cameryn quietly closed, like a door pulled shut without a sound.

It wasn't about him, not really. He hadn't done anything wrong. He's actually funny, and easy, and had listened when she talked, all the things people were supposed to want. But Cameryn knew herself well to know that she is still in a middle of nursing her heart after Marcus broke up with her. She doesn't have any plans to hook up after what happened.

And then, one idea suddenly flashed into her mind.

"Sure," she said, and took the phone from him, and typed in her number with the easy, practiced confidence of someone who'd done this a hundred times... Except for the very last two digits, which she changed without any hesitation at all, Afterwards, she smilingly gave the phone back to Beckett.

"There you go," she said, smiling the smile that photographed well, the one that gave nothing away.

"Cool. I'll text you." He pocketed the phone, easy and unsuspecting, no idea at all that he now held a number that belonged to absolutely nobody he'd ever met.

"Cool," she echoed, which secretly means that after this party, they will not see each other anymore.

Deja appeared a few minutes later with two slices of cake and a look that said she'd been watching from across the kitchen the entire time. "So?"

"So nothing."

"He got your number."

"He got a number." Cameryn accepted the cake, keeping her voice light. "Not necessarily the correct one."

Deja nearly choked on her own bite. "Cameryn!"

"What? I wasn't rude. At least I was still able to brush him off without making him feel bad." Cameryn reasoned out.

"Girl, you're crazy!"

Cameryn just gave Deja a playful wink, then she took a bite of cake. It was a good cake, and she let herself relax for the first time all night.

Around her, the party kept going... Someone had started a half-hearted karaoke session in the living room, Marcus was arguing cheerfully with Julian about a call from last week's game, and the string lights on the porch blinked against the dark like they were keeping their own private rhythm.

Cameryn let it all wash over her, content for once to just be a guest at someone else's celebration instead of the center of attention. She caught Beckett's eye once more across the kitchen, and he gave her a small, easy wave, still entirely unaware of what she'd done. She smiled back, a genuine one this time, feeling a bit guilty, but told herself it didn't matter. He'd text a dead end tonight, and by tomorrow, she reasoned, he'd have already forgotten her name...