Blame It On Bad Luck (Camren)

Chapter 3

Meanwhile Camila had been so absorbed in her crusade against her roommate that it took up nearly all of her focus and Allison was beginning to feel like it was the only thing on her mind at all times. Granted, it basically was. But Camila would never ignore her girlfriend. She just didn't like when she wasn't the center of the brunette's attention.

It didn't help that Camila literally refused to bring her around the apartment, much to Allison's—and Lauren's—grand annoyance. The green eyed girl was just praying to get the chance to use something in her relationship against her, to just get under the smaller brunette's skin even further.

So Camila found herself working even more to distract herself and ironically enough reduce the ever increasing stress she'd been suffering. But it wasn't all bad, she argued. Working more meant extra money that she desperately needed and she loved her job, both of them. She ran her slender fingers delicately over the fretboard of her acoustic guitar, closing her eyes and losing herself in a moment of brief and fleeting peace for the first time in God knows how long.

She was glad the record store wasn't too far from her new school and that she didn't have to leave a job she adored more than most things. The pay wasn't anything extraordinary—fairly decent—but it was more of a hobby than a means to an end. Seeing the curiosity and joy on everyone's faces was the most rewarding thing she could ever hope for.

She was so busy with her guitar she hadn't even bothered heading to the back to set up. And she didn't even notice a face she hated that was so familiar as of late enter the record store, barely looking up from her phone. Camila kept her eyes down as well, unaware of her raven haired roommate strolling through the aisles, and strummed lightly as she adjusted the tuning. An obnoxious and irrationally irritated voice broke her reverie and she shut her eyes tightly, wishing—like a monster in a horrible nightmare—that it would make her go away.

"Jesus Christ why are you literally everywhere?" she called out with a long groan, not really wanting a response. Camila shot her a glare as she opened her eyes. Lauren was walking over with her arms folded over her chest, a position Camila believed would end up permanent if she kept doing it as much as she did.

"I work here," she reminded her. "I told you this."

"You did?"

"Yes. I mentioned it one of my first nights after I moved in. I teach guitar to kids, remember?" Lauren stared at her blankly and made a swiping motion with her hand over her head and shrugged uncaringly. Camila scoffed. "Do you just never listen to anything I say?"

"You're catching on, Camelot."

"Camila," she corrected, exasperated, for about the millionth time. Lauren completely ignored her and went back to fiddling through the rows and rows of vinyls. Camila shook her head, mentally scolding herself for letting it bother her, for letting everything bother her—not caring enough to call her by her real name, not bothering to pay attention to anything she says, not even wanting to know anything about her. Her eyebrows knit together in frustration and she grimaced at the sound of her poorly tuned guitar; she hadn't even been paying attention.

"That a Fender?" Lauren asked randomly, juggling a few things in her hands, not really looking up. Camila eyed her hesitantly at the lack of condescension in her voice. This sounded like small talk. And Lauren was not one for small talk.

"Yeah..." she trailed off looking down at the guitar she adored more than life itself. And she remembered where she was and why she was there and suddenly Lauren's presence didn't bother her.

She still wished she would leave though.

Soon kids started to enter the store, their bright eyes and excited grins stretching across their round little faces, all of them running to where Camila sat in the back of the store. She couldn't help but break out in a giant smile herself as she always did whenever the kids would come for their lessons. It combined her two favorite things: music and teaching.