We left the bar as the lights were coming up, and stumbled home. We stopped at my apartment, and I told Cam to come inside. This wasn't unusual; we normally stayed at my house after a night of heavy drinking, as it was within walking distance of the bar. Cameron's house wasn't very far away, but once we got to my house, he was usually too tired to make it the rest of the way.

    I pulled him up the stairs and into the apartment. I'd played it safe, only having a couple of drinks, only if out of fear that I'd blurt out something else dumb.

    Cam went into the guest bedroom and laid down on the bed. I went  and stood in the doorway. He almost immediately fell asleep, after quietly muttering goodnight to me. I whispered it back, and grinned at the perpetual man-child sleeping on the bed. This happened often. So often, in fact, that, prior to the realization that I was irrevocably in love with Cameron, I had considered asking him to move in. Usually, I had had quite a bit more to drink, but tonight gave me a new perspective: I realized what an odd pair we must've seemed to people looking in. We were obviously just as close as any 'couple', and yet...

    I bit my tongue and refused to play the 'what-if-we-were-more' game. I turned off the light, and started making my way to my own room.

    "Charrrrrrrlotte?" I heard Cam slur. "Sttttttttacey?"

    "What is it Cam, I'm right here." I turned and went back to his doorway.

    "I've been...thinkin' about it, and...well," I could see the outline of Cam sitting up in his bed.

    "What?" I had absolutely no idea where this was going. Oh, please, let him not be remembering the incident....

    "I'm thinkin' I love ya too...Charlotte. You're awesome."

    A smile crept to my lips. All I could think was that I needed to get to my room to scream into my pillow like I had in the eighth grade when Jimmy Martin had kissed me on the cheek.

    "You're drunk, Cameron. Go to sleep."

    "No...I mean it." He was suddenly serious. "F*** Erin. F*** Lisa, f*** Jenn."

   I almost ironically pointed out that he probably had. I realized I did not want to ruin the perfection that was this odd, odd moment.

    "Charlotte, I love you." He then laid back down. "I love you, and, I think I always have."

    I didn't know what to say. On one hand, he was bearing his soul, telling me exactly what I'd wanted to hear for so long. On the other, he was stinking drunk, and was just twisted enough to be making some kind of joke regarding the incident.

    "Go to sleep, Cam. We'll talk about this in the morning."

    "Last time you said we would talk about it we didn't."

    "I know, I know. But, this time we will, I promise. You're drunk, and you need your sleep. I lo---" I wondered if I could get away with saying what I wanted to say. I decided against it, and quickly changed it.

    "I'm glad you said that to me." I had to resist the urge to cackle like a banshee. I had never been this excited. Even if he was making a joke, I didn't care.

    Even in the dark, I could see Cam smiling.

    "Night, Charlotte."

    "Night, Cam."

    "Promise we'll talk about this tomorrow?"

    "Yeah, Cameron, once you stop smelling like the inside of a keg."

    I walked back into the hallway, and quietly closed his door. I could hear his light snores on the other side, and I leaned against it, straining to hear the soothing sounds of Cam's slumber.

    I walked into my own room, and closed the door. For the first time in almost fifteen years, I decided to let out my pent up energy and excitement by jumping on my bed.

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