Bad Things

27. Devastation

Standing from her position on the bed, Camila moved over to the door, averting her eyes from the nearing double of herself, and opened it back up to direct the mirror's truths away from her. Once it was hidden, she could breathe easier. Making her way back to the bed, she plopped back down onto her side and focused on the lesson on her laptop.

It had been almost ten days since Camila had been "recommended" to start the online home-school rather than attend regular classes. Seven of those had consisted of her father and her locked in a standoff over her coming home. She didn't want him to think she was just going to forget everything, come home, and play by his rules now, because she wasn't. There were certain things he couldn't have power over anymore. Things she wouldn't let him control.

In the end, what either of them wanted didn't matter in the least. The school district insisted an adult, legal family member oversee her home-schooling. So as much as Camila wanted to remain a stubborn teenager and fight him, that fact made any argument to the contrary a moot point.

Camila's gaze drifted to the bags sitting at the foot of Hailee's bed and a chill raked over her. She'd had them packed for days, but today marked the final day she was allowed to stay. Tomorrow she'd be going back home. No more excuses. She'd already stalled long enough.

With a sigh, Camila looked back at the screen, squinted, and tried to remove all thoughts not centered around the lesson on the computer. A task that was becoming more and more difficult, with the voices from downstairs floating through the open door, and her son playing soccer with her bladder.

Grabbing a pair of headphones from the nightstand beside the bed, Camila pushed them into her ears and soft strands of music floated through the tiny speakers. She closed her eyes, tapped her fingers to the rhythm against the part of her belly receiving the hardest beating, and let the melody tune everything else out: the noises in the house, the thoughts in her brain, the worries of her heart. As she calmed, the baby did too, his kicks and wiggles slowing until they were practically non-existent. For at least fifteen minutes, she lay there with her eyes closed, letting her mind slowly clear, and her son fall asleep.

It felt so good to just be empty for once, to be still, nothing running through her brain or kicking against her skin. It was just her and the music.

When she felt like she was ready to fully concentrate, she opened her eyes, startling when she caught sight of a figure resting against the doorframe.

"Holycrap!" she said, tugging the buds from her ears and resting her hand over her pounding heart. "You scared the crap out of me."

Shawn stood unmoving in the doorway, his jean-clad legs crossed at the ankles and his arms folded over his chest. "Sorry," he said. "I thought maybe you were sleeping."

"So you watched me? That's kinda creepy, you know."

Shawn said nothing, but his mouth lifted slightly in one corner.

"How'd you get in here?" Camila asked after noticing the utter silence of the house.