Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ah, summer! A beautiful season marking freedom, growth, and joy for students across the country. What a time it is! A season ripe with opportunity! It's always been my favorite, unlike my best friend, Cameron. He's always thought it was too hot and too noisy. Prefers the wintertime, despite it being the holiday season. That's why every year I make it my mission to give him the best summer yet. Because I'm always right. He's just in denial.

On this beautiful sunny day, I decide to drag him out into the forest to kick around in the river, over by the old waterfall. We used to go down there all the time as kids and look for cool rocks. We'd find tons of them, but by the time we got home they would have dried off and lost their shine, which was most of what made them cool in the first place. Today we're not going for rocks, though. Today we're just going to have fun.

“Cameron, baby!” I lean back in my desk chair, phone receiver up to my ear. “Come over!”

“I can't,” Cameron lied. “I had plans.”

“No you didn't.” I twirl the phone cord around my finger and cross my ankles. “You never do.” I hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. Got him.

“Fine, I didn't,” he admits. “But I really can't come over. I'm exhausted.”

“Ohh come on, Cam,” I whine. Tatic one: begging. “Please? I wanna hang out today.” Fumble. Hanging out is not something that appeals to Cameron. I'd have to reveal my true plans. “Let's go down to the old waterfall.” It takes a while for him to respond. Good sign.

“Ferris…” He sighs and I can almost hear him pinch the bridge of his nose. “I really can't do it today. Why don't we go tomorrow?”

“But tomorrow is tomorrow. Today, I say we go to the river!” Time for tactic two: guilt tripping. “It's been so long since we've been, and you haven't hung out with me in weeks-”

“It’s been five days.” Shit. Abort. Tatic three: threats.

“I'll go without you. And then I'll be all rivered out and you'll have to go all on your own.” I wait for a moment before filling the silence with a hesitant, “so…”

“Fine,” Cameron says, sighing again. “Meet me outside your house in ten.” I pump my fist in the air and grin.

“You won't regret it Cameron, I know you won't.”

“Yeah yeah. Bring a towel this time, okay?” He hangs up the phone. I'm not gonna bring a towel. He always brings one for me anyways, so why should I? I do, however, grab a change of clothes as I change into my swim trunks and a loose t-shirt. I'm not riding home sopping wet.

Jeanie is sitting at the kitchen table when I get downstairs. She looks at me with that curious yet disinterested glare that she always has on.

“Going swimming!” I answer her question with a smile, sparing her the embarrassment of asking. She rolls her eyes and goes back to eating cereal. I stand on my tiptoes to look into her bowl. “Cornflakes?”

“Fuck off,” she replies. That's my sister for you. A bundle of joy.

I leave the house and sit on the front step to wait for Cameron. We've been best friends since elementary school, and nothing has really changed in all that time. I drag him places to have fun and he takes care of all the worrying for us. We're a perfect duo. My girlfriend Sloane slotted into the dynamic smoothly once we started dating. She's practical, intelligent, and mischievous. In other words, she's pretty much perfect. Cameron thinks so too, except for when she's going along with my schemes. Then he says he wishes we never met. He's lying though. He can't get enough of us.

“But Ferris,” you might be asking, “if Sloane is such a perfect, integral part of your group, why isn't she coming with you?” I know, I know. But sometimes a man needs to hang out one-on-one with his best friend. Plus she's out of state for the month, off on vacation with her family. So I can't invite her even if I planned to.

Cameron pulls up to the curb in his old hunk of junk van and rolls the passenger side window down. I wave at him as I stand up.

“Go back inside right now and get a towel,” he tells me as I approach his car. I can't help but grin, he got me fair and square.

“Even though you brought an extra?” I ask. He rolls his eyes.

“Just go, idiot.” I laugh and set my clothes in the passenger seat.

“Alright, alright~”

When I get back out of the house, Cameron is fiddling with the radio, trying to get rid of the persistent faint static behind the music. No luck. I hop in the car and buckle myself in.

“Ready for the best day of your life?” I ask. He chuckles and starts driving.

“This is the third “best day of my life” you've given me in the last two weeks,” he replies. I hum, satisfied.

“I'm just that good.”

“Sure, Ferris.”

We get to the forest without incident and Cameron parks the car on the edge of the road. He reaches into the back seat to grab a tote bag, which I unceremoniously add my belongings to as he sighs. No doubt he has everything we might possibly need in there, plus some. On the rare occasions that I let Cameron prepare for an outing, he prepares well. It's admirable, if you admire paranoid pragmatism. It balances my spontaneity well, I have to admit. We make the trek down to the river. I hum a song that's stuck in my head.

“So,” Cameron says, “why'd you wanna come out here?”

“Felt like it,” I reply.

“Just “felt like it”? Nothing else?” His skepticism is abundantly clear. I look over at him with my best sad puppy dog eyes, feigning betrayal.

“I can't see the beautiful weather and want to hang out with my best friend ever? Does there have to be an ulterior motive?”

“There usually is,” he retorts. I grin. He got me again.

“Yeah, usually. Not this time though. Today is for pure, old-fashioned fun.”

We reach the river and Cameron sets his bag down on a rock. I take off my shirt, but he stops me before I can get in the water.

“Do you have sunscreen on?” he asks. I shake my head and he sighs. “Get over here.” He pulls out a bottle of sunscreen and hands it to me.

“That's my Cameron,” I joke, squeezing the lotion into my hand. “Always worried.” If I'm not mistaken, he blushes ever so slightly. I'm always teasing him for his anxious demeanor, but you'd think he'd have gotten past the embarrassment by now.

“I'm not letting you get sunburnt on my watch,” he says, annoyed. “You'll find a way to make it my problem.”

“As if you wouldn't want that,” I retort. Cameron has the mom instinct. If he's not taking care of me, he's worried someone's fucking it up. When he gets a family he's gonna be the most involved father ever, I'm sure of it. I bet he'll even go to PTO meetings.

I hand him back the sunscreen when I'm finished with it, and promptly head into the water. It's cold enough to give me goosebumps when I step in, just like it should be on a warm summer day. Perfect. After getting my feet wet, I get a running start and jump into the deep part, splashing murky water all over. I hear Cameron shout; I must have gotten the towels wet. Oops. I shoot him a suave, lopsided grin to hopefully prevent any anger. It works.

After we splash around for a while, I decide we should go for a walk. We hike along the edge of the river, me in the water and Cameron out of it. There are birds somewhere nearby, singing. Soon enough, we get to the old waterfall. It’s a little pitiful at this point in its life, although we just got a bunch of rain, so it's pretty respectable right now. There's a large pond where it hits the water, and a few boulders sticking out of the water, perfect for climbing on.

“Absolutely not,” Cam says when I start eyeing them. I look back at him, eyes wide and innocent.

“Whatever could you be referring to?” I ask. He looks unimpressed.

“You are going to fall if you climb one of those rocks,” he clarifies regardless. “It's not happening.”

“Oh come on Cameron, don't tell me you have such low faith in my athleticism?” I wade towards the boulders and he follows.

“You can barely stay up in ice skates, Ferris.”

“Good thing I'm not wearing ice skates then.” I start climbing the rock, and I can feel Cameron’s anxiety spike behind me. I grin as an idea hits me, and turn my head to look down at him. “Besides, you'll catch me if I fall, right?” Of course I don't plan on falling, but the look of horror on his face is so worth it. I hoist myself the rest of the way up and sit on the edge of the boulder. “See? I'm fine!” Cameron looks a little pale as he shakes his head.

“You're gonna get yourself killed, Ferris,” he mutters, and I smile sweetly at him.

“Now why would I go and do that?” I pat the rock next to me. “You should join me up here! There's plenty of space!”

“I'm not worried about the space,” he grumbles, but he climbs up on the rock anyways and stands near the center of it. I can't tell if he's subtly one-upping me or not. He's always been very proud of his height, and I'd be lying if I said I was never jealous about it. But I've made my peace with my short stature. I stand up regardless.

“See? This isn't bad! It's pretty gorgeous, right?” Watching the waterfall hit the river from here is amazing. It's kicking up a faint spray that's refracting the sunlight into a rainbow. There are patches of wildflowers blooming near the riverbank.

“Yeah,” Cameron admits. “It is.” And I want this moment to last forever. Standing on this rock with my best friend, in a place that was formative to our childhoods, on a bright summer day. It feels like the culmination of our youth. Like we're crossing a tenuous bridge to adulthood, but we can still look back at the ground behind us. Highschool is the sickening chasm beneath our feet, and it only gets deeper ahead. But right here, right now, we're not in danger yet. Right now, we're on an adventure. I can only hope it stays that way. So I guess that's my job. Cameron would let this journey go to waste. I'm going to make sure he doesn't.

I turn back to Cameron with a grin on my face. He looks relaxed. Happy. Good. Mission accomplished. He smiles back at me, a smile most people don't get to see. It's a smile that I've spent our whole lives dragging out of him. It's my favorite thing in the whole world.

“Wanna go for a swim?” I ask, stepping to the edge of the rock. Cameron lets out a deep breath and nods. I look at the water below us. It looks like it might be deep enough to jump in safely. I look back at Cameron once more to say something, but in the next second it doesn't matter. I must have shifted my foot somehow, because I slipped. And now I'm falling. Oh.

It feels like time slows down for me. How cliché! I think I might die here. I really think I might die. And the worst part is I'll probably take Cameron's smile with me.

Cameron grabs my wrist. My body hits the water, my head hits a rock, and the last thing I think before blacking out is that there's ice cream at home.

_____

“Ferris!!” Cameron grabs Ferris’s wrist before he falls off the rock, but all that does is pull him down too. They hit the water with a splash. It's deeper than Cameron thought it was, deep enough to save his limbs from being battered by rocks. It still hurts. He gets his head above water first, then gets his feet underneath him. He can barely stand here, which means Ferris could probably tread water. But he isn't. He's still underwater.

Cameron takes a deep breath and goes back under, forcing his eyes open in the murky water to try and find Ferris. He can't be far. It's been maybe fifteen seconds, no way he got swept off somehow. Cameron spots him, thank God, and grabs him under the armpits, pulling him up out of the water. He feels limp. Shit. Cameron pulls him to shallower water, where he can stand.

“Ferris??” he says, or maybe yells. He can't really tell from the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears. He doesn't get a response anyways. He curses under his breath and drags Ferris to the riverbank, almost collapsing onto dry ground with him. But Ferris is still out, he can't collapse yet. He kneels over Ferris and checks for a pulse, but fuck, where is it easy to find one? Cameron gives up and checks for breathing instead. Ferris's chest doesn't look like it's moving, and when Cameron puts a hand up to his mouth he can't feel any air moving. Fuck. This is where you try CPR, right? Oh god. He tries to remember the brief instructions on CPR they got in their health class last year. One hand over the other, and you press as hard as you can, right? Better to break a rib than let him die. Someone said you can do CPR to the beat of Stayin’ Alive, he remembers that clearly. But you're supposed to breathe for them, right? Into their mouth? When do you breathe into their mouth??

Fuck it. Cameron straddles Ferris's torso and starts compressions. One, two, three, four, five. This is probably when to try and get him breathing, right? He pinches Ferris's nose and forces air into his mouth, before going back to compressions. Again, and again, and then Ferris starts coughing.

_____

I come to coughing my lungs out, spitting up water and maybe a little bile. My chest aches and my head is throbbing and my throat is raw. And I'm alive. Sweet Mary mother of Jesus I am alive.

Cameron is leaning over me, looking more terrified than I've ever seen him. He's more scared than when we broke the urn holding his great grandfather's ashes when we were kids. I make eye contact with him and I can see a wave of relief wash over him. I smile. After all, he probably just saved my life. But for an instant, his expression goes from relief to rage. It startles me. He's never been angry with me before. Sure, he's been annoyed, he's been aggravated, but never really angry. It's a show he puts on to try and pretend he didn't go along with me. That's not what this is.

Funnily enough, that's the moment that it strikes me. Looking up at him, having just saved my life, breathless and soaking wet and terrified and pissed, I feel something stir in my chest. And I realize that I love him.

I'm in love with my best friend.

Oh fuck.

I mean, it's not like this comes as a surprise. We don't have a typical friendship, it's always been a little closer than that. I know Sloane has her suspicions, she has for months now. It's hard not to, I tend to bring him along to everything. I've wanted to kiss him before, in excited, heat-of-the-moment situations. I get jealous sometimes. But I didn't think it meant anything. Not really. It was easy for me to dismiss. This is different. I can't just brush this away.

I laugh a little and sit up, Cameron sitting back on his heels as I do. He's staring at me with this incomprehensible look, a crazy cocktail of emotions that I don't think I can untangle right now. I lean forward and rest my head on his shoulder; I can tell I'm about to be exhausted.

“I think,” I laugh some more, feeling the tiredness hit. “I think I hit my head.”

“God, Ferris.” Cameron hugs me tightly, shocking me for the second time in the past minute. He's not usually the touchy type. I hug him back and close my eyes. “Don't scare me like that you asshole.”

“‘M sorry…” I'm getting sleepy now. Is that a sign of a concussion? Whatever. I wouldn't mind falling asleep in Cameron's arms. Is being suddenly gay for your best friend a sign of a concussion? I don't think so. Damn. I'm snapped out of my drowsy reverie when I feel Cameron start to shake.

“Oh, no…” I rub his back gently, and suddenly he feels very, very small. “Cameron I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“I know-” His voice is strained, fighting through tears. He clears his throat. “I know you didn't. Why the hell would you do that on purpose…”

“It’s okay.” I run my fingers through Cameron's hair, I know he likes that. He practically melts into me, the adrenaline and stress leaving his body. “I'm okay. Thank you.”

“I thought you were dead…”

“I did too.” I laugh again. I think I might be delirious. “I'm not dying that easy though. They can't kill me!” Cameron laughs briefly, but it turns into stifled sobbing faster than I expect. I really scared him, didn't I? Shit. I don't know how I'll fix this. I don't know how but I have to. That's what I do. I fuck things up a little and then I fix them up better than before. But this isn't a little. I almost died.

We fall silent after that and just sit there. It's peaceful, in a weird sort of way. There's a tension in the air. For maybe the first time ever, I think it might be coming from me. That means it's more my job than ever to dismiss it.

“Y'know…” I let go of Cameron and sit up. “There was about two seconds there, after you were done being scared, where it looked like you wanted to kill me.”

“What..?” Cameron stares at me, anxious as ever.

“I don't take it personally!” I smile at him, and he relaxes a little. “I think it was a visceral reaction, you know? There's an animal in you.” This gets a smile from him. I realize at this point that he's still sitting on my lap.

“An animal?” There's a laugh in his voice and nothing matters anymore. I grin.

“Yeah. Like a, a wolf or something.” He actually laughs now.

“No way! If anything, I'm a deer.”

“A magnificent stag!” I can feel my usual theatrics coming back to me. It's good to know I haven't sustained any important brain damage. Probably. “Big and intimidating and graceful!”

“Shut up.” He pushes my shoulder gently and gets off of my lap. “You're just saying that cuz I saved your life.”

“And why shouldn't I?” I ask indignantly.

“Because,” he says. “I'm not all that.”

“You areee.”

“I'm not!” He's starting to get annoyed. I clear my throat and hold out three fingers.

“Big.” I hold my first finger with my other hand. “Self explanatory. Intimidating.” The middle finger now. “The underclassmen are terrified of you. I heard some of them calling you my bodyguard.” He blushes a little at that. I take my last finger. “And graceful. I have never, never, seen someone as good in the ice rink as you are.”

“You haven't watched professional hockey,” he mutters.”

“Yes I have. You know I have. You're better than any of them. Maybe not faster, maybe not as powerful, but definitely, definitely more graceful. You step on the ice and it feels like you're in control. It's badass.” He blushes a lot at that. It's cute. I've thought that before.

“Well…” He trails off and doesn't finish his rebuttal. Checkmate. I grin.

“I'm getting hungry,” I say, standing up. The second I'm on my feet, though, I feel faint. Cameron notices and scrambles to his feet, holding me up beneath the armpits. I laugh, a little deliriously. “Yikes. Think I might need help getting back to the car.”

“Yeah.”

Cameron wraps my arm around his shoulders and holds me up like that, so I can still walk, and we start heading back to the car. He grabs the tote bag and slings it over his shoulder. I feel like I'm almost asleep on my feet. I think I'm rambling, but I don't care enough to pay attention to what I'm saying. It makes Cameron laugh, though. We get to the car and I lean against the passenger door.

“I should change my clothes,” I mumble. “Don't want your car wet…”

“It's alright,” Cameron says. I shake my head.

“Give me my clothes.” I reach out for them. He rolls his eyes, but hands them over. I pull on my shirt and change out of my swim trunks into dry shorts, then get in the car. Cameron does the same.

The drive home is quiet. The radio is playing some 60s throwback song that I don't know the name of. Cameron keeps glancing at me. I don't know if he knows I'm noticing, but if he does, it's not stopping him. I'm on the verge of passing out the entire way home. I feel like if I let myself slip, I'll sleep through tomorrow. That can't be good. We pull up to the curb in front of my house and Cameron turns to me.

“Can you walk?” he asks.

“Dunno. Let's see!” I unbuckle and open the door, and when I step out of the car I feel alright. I take a step forward though, and immediately I'm off balance. I take another step and I'm about to fall. Cameron catches me before I can, though. Huh. I didn't hear him get out of the car. I look up at him. “Guess that's a no, hm?” He sighs.

“You're such a handful,” he mutters. I laugh.

“Good thing you've got big hands,” I reply, grinning. He almost smiles at that.

“Yeah yeah, come on, you need to get inside.” Cameron helps me to the door, but insists on ringing the doorbell and waiting for someone to come get me.

“You can just bring me inside,” I say as we wait.

“If I do that, you'll just go up to your room and fall asleep. You need medical attention.”

“Why didn't you just bring me to the doctor then?”

“I dunno how bad it is. I'm guessing your mom might have a better idea. Plus she'll be the one paying for it…” I laugh. At that moment, Jeanie opens the door. Cameron gets all nervous again.

“Jeanie! Jean! How's it going?” I grin at her, and she scowls back.

“Why didn't you just come inside?” she asks.

“Um-”

“I'm concussed, my dear sister. You can't let a concussed person ‘just come inside.’” She glances at Cameron and he nods sheepishly, confirming my story.

“What the hell…” Jeanie goes inside, leaving the door open. Cameron helps me into the foyer. I can hear Jeanie pick up the phone in the kitchen. I guess Mom isn't home yet.

“I'm pretty tired,” I mutter, leaning against Cameron more than I already was.

“Don't fall asleep, that's bad.” He shakes me gently by the shoulders and I groan.

“I'm not! Calm down.” I grin. “You're always so worried.”

“You almost died, Ferris.”

“But I didn't.”

Jeanie comes back in the room with her keys.

“Mom's making me drive you to the ER, get in the car.” She motions towards the garage with her keys.

“Should… should I..?” Cameron looks between Jeanie and me. She rolls her eyes.

“I'm not carrying him,” she says before heading out to the car. I look up at Cam.

“Guess you're tagging along!”

The car ride is uncharacteristically quiet. I want to be chatty, I would be, but I'm just so tired. Cameron keeps shaking me awake; he's too scared to let me rest. I guess I should be grateful. I'm not, though. I'm mostly annoyed, and a little bemused. How does he survive being scared all the time? It's baffling. I think his heart would have failed years ago if I wasn't here to help him out.

Suddenly I'm very awake, and even more nauseous. I hit the back of Jeanie's seat.

“Jeanie pull over I'm gonna throw up-” I manage to say before she yells at me, thank god. She almost swerves into the curb and the car screeches to a halt.

“Get out get out oh my god-” I'm already struggling with the door before she says a word, but boy am I struggling. Cameron unbuckles my seatbelt and leans over me to pull the door handle, letting me push the door open. I fall to my knees on the grass by the sidewalk and start heaving. I feel Cameron kneel next to me and set his hand on my back, and that makes it a little better. I’m glad I ate breakfast this morning.

We get to the ER pretty quickly. I think it's because Jeanie doesn't want me in her car for more time than necessary. Who knows, I might throw up again. Cameron helps me sit in the waiting room while Jeanie tells the receptionist why we're here. She comes back over once she's gotten me on the waitlist.

“I gave them your name to call. Also Mom is coming. I'm going home.”

“Thanks Jeanie..” I notice that I'm slurring my words, just a little. Have I sounded like that the whole time? Jeanie rolls her eyes.

“I hope you get a lobotomy,” she says. I know she means it, but I laugh anyways. I think she almost smiles before she leaves. Today is just full of surprises.

They let Cameron into the examination room with me, thanks to my infinite charisma and abysmal balance. Mom shows up just before the doctor tells us how I'm supposed to recover. Lots of rest, pretty much. I'm going to be so ungodly bored for the next week, unless I do something about it. I already have a plan in the making. But now Mom is driving us home, and I'm going to get to sleep so soon, and Cameron seems calmer than before. We get to the house and Cameron helps me inside once more.

“Thank you for taking care of him Cameron,” Mom says. I hum in agreement. Cam smiles nervously.

“Oh it's nothing,” he replies, but I punch him gently.

“Yeah right,” I say. “You saved my life, idiot. We're gonna send you a thank you basket.” He laughs at that.

“You really don't need to do that,” he says. His guard is down. I don't think he believes I am gonna send him something. But I definitely will. I try to stand up on my own and mostly succeed.

“I'm going to bed now,” I announce. “I'll see you later, Cam!”

“Yeah, see you.” He grins at me and I think I'm going to pass out, for a lot of reasons that are definitely mostly related to the concussion. I grin back as he leaves.

“Let me help you upstairs,” Mom says, and I turn to her with a smile.

“Thanks Mom,” I say, and let her half carry me to my room.

I'm out the second my head hits the pillow. Mom is going to pick up some headache medicine from the pharmacy. Cameron is probably going to call me tomorrow, or wait anxiously by his phone until I call him. Which will probably be the first thing I do when I wake up. I'll need his help with my little plot to entertain myself. And what kind of friend would I be if I let a silly little crush affect his role in my devious schemes?

A silly little crush… I gotta hand it to myself, I sure know how to make things interesting. Hopefully it doesn't turn into something worse.

I'm sure it'll be fine.