Cameron and the Girls by Edward Averett Page B

the rest of the way home.
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    We have a family meeting after Dad gets home. Even he doesn’t get to eat until we’re done, and that makes him grumpy because we have our meeting at the kitchen table and he wrinkles his nose, sniffing for dinner.
    Mom is very democratic. She even lets Beth speak her mind, and Beth says, “Why do I have to be involved in this stupid meeting?”
    â€œBecause we’re a family,” Mom says. “Isn’t that right, Dad?”
    Dad nods and starts picking at a callus on his thumb.
    â€œWell, I officially think it’s stupid,” says Beth. “Cam should be able to do what he wants.”
    â€œOkay,” says Mom. “Maybe I should state the problem first.” She folds her hands and rests them on top of the table. Her fingers look like a pile of bleached-out little wieners. “I think that we have a serious situation in the family, and I’d like to address it. Even though we all know what the situation is, I’ll spell it out. One of us, Cameron, has a dangerous condition that he is making worse by not doing the responsible thing. In layman’s terms, he needs to take medication, and he’s probably not doing it. This makes his condition worse. Today, Cameron chose to run away from school and was nowhere to be found, and I personally think it’s a result of his not taking the medication and ignoring his serious condition.”
    â€œI didn’t run away from school,” I said.
    â€œWell, then, what—”
    â€œI was checking to see if a friend was okay.”
    â€œWhat friend?” Mom asks.
    â€œThat’s none of your business.”
    â€œCam,” Dad warns.
    Careful now. Play it smart.
    I can tell Mom wants to say something really mean, such as spilling the secret of when she caught me talking to The Girl in the rain, but she bites her lip. “Cameron, are we talking about that imaginary girlfriend of yours?”
    Is this respect?
    I shake my head. “I’m not saying anything more.”
    â€œBecause if we are, then we’re not going to get anywhere.”
    â€œIt looks like this is all about Cam,” Beth says. “Can I be excused?”
    â€œKeep quiet,” Dad says, and he gives Beth his military look. He then turns to me. “Cam, from now on I want you to treat your mom with respect. And that goes for you, too, Beth. I’ve had enough of this sarcastic crap from the two of you.”
    â€œIt’s Mom’s fault,” Beth tries, but Dad holds up a hand.
    â€œIf you can give your friends respect, then you can give it to your own mother as well.”
    It’s quiet for a few seconds, but I can hear Beth’s brain working. I can’t stand this sort of quiet, so I say, “It was someone else.”
    â€œYou can’t just take off from school,” Dad says.
    Yes, you can. You did.
    â€œAnd are you taking your meds or not?” he asks.
    â€œI am,” I say softly. But even I can hear the little question mark at the end, and I can see that Mom doesn’t believe me. She folds her arms at her chest. I hold my hands out in front of me. It’s risky, but right now they’re perfectly calm. “Do these look like the hands of a crazy person?”
    â€œPlease don’t use that word,” she says.
    My father stares at my hands, but it doesn’t seem to matter to him. “Taking off like that just makes everybody worry about you,” he says.
    You don’t need to be worried about me. Everything’s just fine.
    â€œI don’t need to be worried about,” I say.
    â€œAs long as you live here with us, we reserve the right to worry about you,” Dad says.
    Beth mumbles something that I can’t understand, but Dad has had enough. He stands up, towering over the rest of us. “I didn’t want to have to go this far with it, but you’ve forced my hand.”
    He looks sternly at me. “Starting