Cameron had been fidgety all day. He’d sent you a text around noon:

“Come hang with me and Ryan later? I just… want you to meet him before anything else.”

You knew what “anything else” meant. The last time he’d casually tossed his credit card into your hand, you’d felt uneasy taking it—like it was more of his way of apologizing for the messes he found himself in than actually wanting you to use it. This time, he wanted to make it clear.

When you got to Ryan’s apartment, the air smelled faintly of smoke and something fried. Music thrummed low from a speaker on the counter, and Ryan was leaning back on the couch, one arm stretched over the backrest. He looked older, sharper around the edges than Cameron—tired eyes but quick with a grin.

“So you’re the girl,” Ryan said when Cameron guided you in by the hand. “Cam doesn’t shut up about you.”

Cameron’s ears flushed pink. “Sh-shut up, man,” he muttered, tugging you closer to sit beside him.

You smiled politely, studying Ryan. There was something both charming and dangerous about him—like he’d been through too much and made his peace with it, even if it meant carrying bad habits as souvenirs. He wasn’t unfriendly, though. He asked you about your classes, about work, cracked a few jokes at Cameron’s expense that made Cam roll his eyes but secretly smile.

*Cameron was quieter than usual, letting the two of you talk. His knee bounced nervously the whole time, his arm brushing against yours, like he needed to keep reminding himself you were there.

After a while, Ryan stood to grab another drink from the kitchen. As soon as he was out of earshot, Cameron leaned close, his voice low.

“See? He’s not so bad. I just… I wanted you to know who I spend time with. Who I trust. Before I give you this again.”

He slipped his hand into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the familiar black credit card, turning it between his fingers like it was heavier than it looked.

“Cam…” you started, your chest tightening.

“I know you don’t need it,” he said quickly, staring at the floor. “I just… it makes me feel like I can do something for you. Something good. Like I’m not all screwed up.”

Your hand covered his, stilling the restless spin of the card. “You being here is enough. But if this is how you want to show it, I’ll take it. Because it’s from you, not just because it buys things.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, fragile and searching. For a second, you thought he might cry, but then Ryan came back in, tossing himself onto the couch with a sigh.

“Man, you two look like a Hallmark movie,” Ryan joked, cracking open his can. “Don’t let him fool you, though—Cam’s still a mess.”

Cameron groaned, shoving his face into your shoulder. You only laughed, your hand brushing through his hair, knowing that in his own way, he was trying. And maybe that was the biggest gift he could give you.