Faking It | Wattys 2022

Chapter 13

"I met her in my senior year of college. We were in the same philosophy section and used to fucking argue in class all the damn time. She always had some stupid trick up her sleeve to embarrass me. After a while, I got so tired of butting heads with her, I offered to befriend her instead. We'd spend hours studying together, getting drunk off of my dad's expensive wine that I'd steal from his place, and doing things we shouldn't have been doing."

Camila paused, a small frown on her face. "I confided in her when I was going through the lowest times of my life. Friends turned into friends with benefits then somehow we became lovers. But on our one-year anniversary, I came back to my safe being broken into and no traces of Lucy. She'd taken all of the money I kept in there and left without saying a word. No letter... Nothing. She had used me. Just like everybody else in my life does."

"Camila," Lauren placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm really sorry, you didn't deserve that,"

"It's alright, I sort of do. I guess that's my karma for being an asshole to everyone half of the time, right?"

"No, not right. Lucy being a piece of shit has nothing to do with you, Camila. You loved her and let her into your heart—how could you have possibly known that she was deceiving you the entire time?"

"My mom's right, though. As much as I don't want to admit it." Camila pursed her lips into a straight line. "I do have horrible taste in women. In fact, you are the only woman who has ever gotten her approval and little does she fucking know..."

"Let's not think about that right now," Lauren let her hand fall back into her lap. "Have you ever tried to find her?"

"Of course. She's somewhere in Amsterdam working as a bottle girl for some club that hosts big events all year round. Sounds like the life after you steal two hundred thousand dollars from somebody."

"And you've never tried to reach out to her? Why?"

Camila shrugged. "What's the point? She left for a reason. I'm not a fan of chasing after people."

"Yet you showed up at my apartment harassing me with a contract. I have a feeling you're not a fan of staying true to your word either." Lauren shot back.

"Who's in Windfield?"

"Oh?" Lauren kinked up an eyebrow. "I didn't say I was going to tell you anything in return,"

"But you did,"

"I did not,"

"You definitely did,"

"Are you fucking gaslighting me right now?" The reaction on Lauren's face was priceless.

The dark-haired woman finally started up the car, laughing. "No, did one of your friends teach you that word?"

Lauren immediately launched her fist at Camila's bicep. "You asshole! Oh my goodness, you're horrible for that!"

"I'm kidding! Jesus, violence isn't the answer." Camila winced.

"But seriously, stop putting yourself down so much. I kind of enjoy being around you when you aren't being so cold for no reason."

"Do you mean that?"

"I do," Lauren answered sincerely. "I know things have been a bit awkward since I moved in, but... I like it when we get along."

Camila glanced up in the rearview mirror to look at the car behind her that kept honking. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"About Windfield?"

"About what else, Lauren?" She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Windfield,"

Sighing, Lauren shifted in the passenger seat uncomfortably. "My grandma has Alzheimer's and my grandpa is too old to take care of her now, so I put her in there. It's one of the best nursing homes back in Miami—which is why it costs me a fucking fortune for her to stay there."

"Are you close with her?"

"Yeah," Lauren paused for a split second. "Well, I was until she got diagnosed. Everything just sort of went downward from there. Her memory turned to jack shit and eventually she couldn't remember who I was anymore."

"I don't get it," Camila frowned. "Why are you forced to handle all of this on your own? Where's the rest of her family?"

"My mom's a crackwhore who walked out on me when I was a kid, so there goes one of her kids. The rest of them are stuck in Cuba living their own lives."

Camila choked on air upon hearing Lauren's description of her mother. "A crackwhore?"

"I don't even know why I'm telling you any of this," Lauren stared out the window. "But, yeah. She was a shitty parent and my grandma stepped up when nobody else would. I owe her my entire life. Making sure she's comfortable until the day she takes her last breath is the very least I can do."

"I... Want you to be able to trust me. We don't have to be the best of friends, but I'm here for you. And whatever it is that you need."

"I'm not really good with getting attached to people,"

"Are you saying you're already attached to me?"

Lauren rolled her eyes, the small smile on her lips betraying her. Because, yeah, she is sort of getting attached to having somebody around that's not constantly belittling her and actually respects her.

"People come and go, Camila. Once this is all over, we'll go back to being strangers doing our own thing."

"I'd like to think we'd be lifelong friends after this whole stint, don't you?" Camila frowned.

"We're opposites, remember?"

Camila dismissed what she said with a wave of her hand. "And I told you, opposites attract. Now, stop being such a pessimistic person and tell me what you want for dinner."

"Mm," Lauren hummed in thought. "How about... McDonald's?"

"McDonald's? Literally, any five-star restaurant in the city and you pick fast food?"

Lauren smiled sheepishly. "I'm craving a McFlurry,"

"Alright," Camila flicked on her blinker light to merge lanes. "Let's get you one, then,"