Death of Me • Camren

Seven

"Hi mom." Lauren breathes, her green eyes practically burning a hole through the woman's skull. She doesn't verbally respond, but the unapologetic hatred on her face sends shivers down Camila's spine. She looks up at Lauren, who's demeanor hasn't changed, and concludes that she is in fact the bravest and most deserving person she's ever met.

"You remember Camila..." Lauren continues, when Clara still fails to speak.

"What are you doing here?" The woman eventually asks, not acknowledging anything her daughter said before.

Camila had to grasp Lauren's hand to keep herself from punching the bitch in the face.

"I'm here for Taylor's birthday." She answers softly.

"Well, it's tomorrow...." The mother answers, rolling her eyes. Although Camila's not sure she could be called human, let alone mother.

Clara goes to close the door, but Lauren stops it, putting her foot in the frame. Which, must have really hurt because Camila could swear she heard something crack with the amount of force the woman used. "Can I at least see her?" Lauren begs , using her hand to keep the door open. "You can see her tomorrow." She says quickly, and with that, the door finally shuts.

More so, lauren allowed it to. Because she didn't have to.

She could have kept her foot there until it wasn't attached to her body anymore, until Clara actually wanted her there.

But neither of them had that kind of time.

Lauren groans, limping toward the railing. "Are you ok?" Camila asks cautiously.

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt as much as you think," she smiles up from the position she is in, and had it been six years ago, Camila would have gone along and not pushed the subject any longer, but it wasn't, and she didn't see the point in holding back anymore.

"No, I meant...are you ok after how she acted?" She clarifies, honestly waiting for Lauren to burst into tears. "Oh," Lauren stands up straight, "I'm used to that," she answers indifferently.

"Still, I'm sorry you have to deal with that. You deserve better." Camila says, and she almost considers spilling her guts right then, but figured another time better.

Instead, she helps lauren down the stairs, almost completely passing past the hallway where she used to live. "You don't want to go see it?" Lauren asks, referring to the apartment in which she had grown up in. "Nope," Camila whispers, but she's not sure Lauren's heard. "No," she repeats after Lauren fails to move.

"There's nothing to see."

All that place was ever going to be was the home where her mother died and nothing more.

And maybe not even that.

Lauren nods understandingly, throwing an arm around Camila's shoulder. "Come on, let's go get something to eat." She says "you can pick."

...

They decide on Olive Garden and sit in a booth in the corner away from most of the other people. They order the same thing and talk. About nothing, really. Just simple things like music and work. They don't mention Julia, or drugs, or anything that would somehow ruin the mood.

Camila enjoyed it, and might even go as far as to say she preferred their relationship now. When one of them wasn't unnecessarily distant or angry.