"We don't have to do this," I said. His jaw set in a way that reminded me of how he'd look some times back in grade school, standing around the fringes of s kickball game or on that bench by Mr. Lloyd's room. "We do, though." I shook my head, staring at the house. Right then, a woman walked out, carrying a bag of trash. "Let's ask her if we can go in," Cameron said. "Go ?" He turned to me. "Yeah." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Shouldn't we, like, talk about it first? About what happened?" "Why? We know what happened." "I can't." "But I'm with you. We're together." My eyes filled. He looked out the window. The woman went back in the house and closed the door. "We can come back some other time," I said, "after we've talked." I put the car in drive. "Let's go somewhere. Coffee. Something." "Doesn't matte." His jaw was set again, his voice dead flat. "It matter, Cameron. That's the point. If it didn't matter I could just go in right now. I'm not ready. You can't just show up after all these years and expect me to be ." He opened the door and started to get out. "Wait, where are you going?" "Sorry I came here and messed up your life." "That's not what I said!" But he was out of the car, walking down the block, away from me."