Page 25 of Gamebreaker

"I didn't storm out. I left."

"You left at storm-out velocity.”

Cam's mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Not quite. "Are you always this difficult?"

"Yes. It's one of my most charming qualities. Along with being chronically online and having strong opinions about coffee."

"Those aren't charming qualities."

"They are to me, and that's what counts."

"That's narcissism."

"It's self-love. Very different. Very healthy. You should try it."

"I love myself plenty."

"Do you, though? Because from where I'm standing, you look like someone who's very hard on herself."

Cam looked at me. Really looked at me. The awkwardness was still there, but something else, too. Curiosity, maybe.

"Come on," she said finally. "Let's go help these kids before you psychoanalyze me further."

"I wasn't psychoanalyzing. I was observing."

"That's the same thing."

"It's really not. One requires a degree. The other just requires eyes and basic pattern recognition."

We moved through the groups of kids, and I found myself actually helping despite my complete lack of knowledge. Like the girl struggling with her form.

"Can you help me?" she asked.

"Oh, I really don't know anything—"

"You made that shot earlier. That was cool."

"That was complete chaos and beginner's luck. Those are my only two basketball skills."

The girl giggled. "Can you just watch me try?"

I watched. Noticed her elbow was sticking out. Remembered Cam saying something about elbows in.

"Maybe try tucking your elbow in more?" I suggested. "I don't know, I'm just repeating what Coach Bossy told me."

Cam chose that moment to appear beside me. "Coach Bossy?"

"It's a term of endearment."

"It's really not."

"You're right. It's an accurate description."

The girl was looking between us, grinning. “You guys are funny."

"She's funny," Cam said. "I'm just trying to teach basketball."

"You're hilarious," I countered. "You just have a very dry sense of humor. Very deadpan. Very 'I'm dead inside but trying to hide it.'"