Handwritten (One Shot Collection)

Lead Me Home

"I don't think that's what she meant." Normani sighed. "She's just worried about you, and honestly... so am I. You're always stressing out over your family, and it can't be any good for your body. Be a kid. You're still a minor, so you might as well advantage of it."

"You're still a minor too" Camila grumbled. "Your mother doesn't complain about her daughter not being rebellious enough, or needing to break a rule or two."

"That's because my mother is peaceful, east Texas church goer who enjoys crossword puzzles and hasn't touched a drop of alcohol since she was twenty-five." The girl replied without missing a beat. "While yours is a kick-ass, downtown Miami Latina who knows her way around a pair of designer sunglasses."

"And ugly sundresses."

"Camila." Normani's voice was scolding. "You know what I mean."

"And you know what I mean." Camila released the clamp, letting the warm, freshly curled lock of hair land lightly against the side of her face and travel down her neck. "Besides, she's not wrong about one thing. The four of us are going to have fun tonight." She then twirled a second lock, glancing up from where her focus was locked on the mirror. "Go get changed."

"I am changed." Normani lifted a single eyebrow.

"Oh." Camila shrugged. "Of course, I knew that. You look great."

"Asshole." Normani turned around, throwing Camila a grin in the mirror before turning the corner into her bedroom. Shifting her attention back to the mirror, the girl polished off the remainder of her glass and curled every section of hair before heading downstairs for a refill.

Downstairs, Ally was seated at the table, leaning forward and studying a circular makeup mirror. Around her was a colour wheel of brushes and palettes, mixed in with a number of open beer cans and half empty solo cups.

"Refill Mila?" She questioned, glancing up as she unclasped a thin silver curler over her right set of lashes.

"Refill." Camila affirmed with a nod, removing two ice cubes from the freezer's built-in tray and letting them settle to the bottom of her glass. There was a bottle of dark whisky she had been gifted a few months back tucked on her personal level of the pantry, and it was bound to satisfy the intoxication level required for the night.

"That stuff will get the job done." Ally crossed one leg over the other, setting down the curler and poking gently at the freshly shaped eyelash. "How many of those have you had?"

"A few." Camila sat down on the other side of the table and swirled the drink around momentarily before taking a long, very cold, very painful sip. The alcohol burnt like fire on the way down, creating a reverse heartburn that left behind a warm, tingling feeling.

"Not to bad huh?" Ally smirked, glancing to the stairs to the house's upper level. "Did the iron work okay? I wasn't sure if that old thing would do the trick anymore. Especially considering you have so much hair."

"It did great, thank you. I'm going to be borrowing a ton more of your stuff from now on." Camila smiled, leaning back in her chair and taking another sip. "Did Dinah say when she was going to be home?"

"Anytime now." Ally turned her attention back to her eyes. "And the minute she walks through the front door, we're going to call a taxi. In the rain, it's going to take them an extra ten minutes just to find the house."

"We can blame that on the cul de sac." Camila stood up, stumbling slightly when her line of sight tilted sightly to the left. Swearing softly, she heard the girl on the other side of the table make an amused noise and pause what she was doing.