Blame It On Bad Luck (Camren)

Chapter 3

Lauren watched her curiously as kids swarmed the shorter brunette, running to grab the hand-me-down guitars the store offered or clutching their own in their petite little hands. Camila only glanced up briefly, not really looking for Lauren but she caught her gaze for a moment and a particularly excited boy grabbed her attention shortly after. Camila felt Lauren's eyes on her for a while as she got everyone situated and led them to the back room so they could begin. Even through the glass, Camila caught her stare from the corner of her eye before she bought only one record and then left.

After work she decided to go for a run to clear her head and to delay going back home. It wasn't too late and Camila loved to run; next to music, it was always an outlet for her and she always found comfort at the feeling of the wind against her face and in her hair and the heat radiating off of every inch of her skin. It made her feel alive. She felt free.

She was still sporting a smile on her entire way back to the apartment, too engrossed in the high she got from running to remember that she lived with the human version of a headache with literally zero chill. She maintained her pleasant disposition as she let herself inside, heading straight for the kitchen for water.

She scanned the fridge, reveling in the silence that filled the apartment and Camila tried not to sigh in relief at not having to deal with her psycho roommate so soon. She grabbed one of the water bottles, unscrewing it quickly and taking a large drink of it. The second the liquid touched her lips Camila cringed and spit before she could choke.

"LAUREN!" she screamed still spitting into the sink but her throat still burned for relief from running so much and from the overly pungent taste of vinegar lingering in her mouth. She wanted to strangle the girl with her bare hands. She went back to the fridge and checked the other bottles—all of them replaced with vinegar. "God dammit Lauren!"

"What did she do this time?" a voice called out of nowhere causing Camila to literally jump away from the counter, clutching her frantically beating heart with her hand.

"Fucking hell!" she yelled, finally looking over to the living room at a girl shorter than Camila she couldn't believe she didn't notice sitting on the couch before. She stood up and gave her an apologetic look, a deep frown marring her delicate features. She was a petite girl with very light brown almost blonde hair and tanned skin. Camila eyed her suspiciously and she could sense her apprehension. For starters, why the hell was this stranger in her home?

"I'm so sorry; Lauren said you were at work. She told me to wait here for her," she explained but it did nothing to ease Camila's nerves. She continued to stare at her until the shorter girl gave her a smile that confused Camila.

"Um...hi..." she offered hesitantly, still not coming closer to where she was. She stayed in her spot by the sink, almost completely forgetting about the horrible taste of vinegar stuck in her mouth. The situation wasn't helping. This girl looked different from the people Lauren would bring around and fool around with. She looked too...wholesome. Camila thought the girl picked up on her worried state because her eyes widened and she laughed nervously. She came over to the kitchen.

"Oh, no, don't worry. I'm not...one of those friends of Lauren's. I'm Ally. I'm her best friend," she said quickly, and extended her hand to Camila who shook it tentatively. She was surprised—that this girl looked so normal and that Lauren actually had any real friends at all. How did anyone put up with her? "Sorry, I probably should have started with that. I hate to ask you your name but the only times Lauren mentions you she...she's used like ten different names and I'm pretty sure none of them are right." Camila rolled her eyes and she could tell this Ally girl knew it wasn't directed at her. Has this girl had to have this conversation before, she wondered.