TeH TrUe sToRy bEhInD FiSh dIsSeCtIoN: pArT TwO

It was 7:30 AM and Camden still wasn’t in sight yet. I sat in the schools cafeteria and waited. And waited. And waited a little bit more. Finally, Camden came in. he took a seat to my right and slammed his binder down on the table, just like every morning. “Good Morning!!!!!!” I say in my charming girly voice. The only time I loved my voice is when I say that to Camden, because the pitch and tone was totally appropriate. “Mornin’, Kales. I swear no one should have to be up and in a school by 8:30 AM. If class didn’t start in fifteen minutes, we could all still be asleep.” he said, his voice low and still only half there from his sleep. “I know, but I’d much rather get up at an ungodly hour than I would have school cut into my afternoons, wouldn’t you?” I ask, trying to brightenthe subject. “This is true,” Camden says in his intoxicating voice. Our morning went exactly like every morning did, stuck to the same old routine. Up untill science, of course. there wasn’t a way on earth or in the heavens that either of us could sit in those same seats with the same people that we had sat with yesterday and listen to Mr. Barrett preach on body systems like a pastor would John 3:16 without recalling the precious memories of yesterday’s “activities”. Camden smiled as I pulled my feet out from under my chair so I could lean back and grab my binder and accidentally brushed his leg.