Chapter eight | sunsets
Camilas' pov
My week has taken an interesting turn of events, causing my mental state to be almost bearable. Maybe that's just because Lucas has been out of town, or maybe it's just because I've drown out my emotions.
On the first day back at school after the chaos that occurred Sunday night, Lydia chased me down, and forced me to sit with Charlie, Danny and her. The boys and her said that me having a screwed up background didn't bother them at all, evidently leading to a heartwarming afternoon at their abandoned building.
They all went more in depth about their life stories. Charlie said he, Lydia, and Danny felt like they owed it to me. They didn't, but it was an extremely thoughtful gesture nonetheless. I'm not sure about Lucas, but turns out the rest of that friend group has some fucked up shit in their lives too.
I learnt that Danny's mother has schizophrenia, and is in a sort of nursing home, he says it's a nice place, but he misses her a lot. His father was never really in the picture either, he had a drug problem when Danny and his little sister were younger, I believe he's clean now, but they only really see him on Father's Day and some Christmas'. He and his sister live with his grandparents now, and Danny says he couldn't ask for anyone better to raise them. According to Lydia, his nana makes the best apple pie ever.
Lydia's life story was also shared. She moved from Ireland when she was four, and she has a little sister who's Carlos's age, but I already knew that. The deep stuff she shared was why three years later she moved back to Ireland, and why four years after that she then once again moved back here. Initially, her parents thought moving to America would be fun, but they had no family, no friends, and no money once they arrived here. The three of them lived in a small two room apartment, and lived off cheep food and below minimum wage jobs for three long years.
Lydia was sent to the supposedly worst public elementary school in the state, but she didn't mind. What caused them to move back to Ireland was when her mother found out she was pregnant. The family decided they were going to start the babies life in a happier home back with the rest of the family. So they did. But about a year or so after Lydia's sister, Sage, was born, something they had hoped wouldn't return did, their mothers leukaemia. It was a long fight, but fifteen months and twenty six days later, leukaemia won.
The grief the family suffered, especially their father, was so skull crushingly overwhelming that they packed their bags and caught the first flight back to Seattle. They're doing a lot better now, her father has a good job with steady income, and Lydia helps out with the bills when she needs to as well, hence why she works for Jess. Lydia says that her parents used to be real hippies, but not so much since the death of Mrs. May. She also says that her heart breaks a little bit every time she sees her father staring at a photo of his late wife; his eyes glossy and red.
Charlie's home life is significantly different. His parents split when he was ten. His father ended up moving to New York for a job opportunity, so Charlie doesn't see him much anymore. He's pretty sure that his dad still loves his mom, but she has a new boyfriend, who is a real jerk.
He has two sisters, one older, one younger, but it's just him and his younger sister at home. The older one has already graduated and is a junior in collage. He knew his dad was never too accepting with the LGBTQ+ community, but he's getting better. His mother totally accepts him, and her boyfriends pretty okay with it too, so that's cool.
I don't say much about my self though, I'm not really ready to share. I just say the stuff they already know, but I do open up about my siblings more. I mostly express how I feel responsible for everything that happens to them, and that I love them more than anything.
I also get informed about how "disgustingly loud Lucas and Blair are when they're banging" by Charlie. I blocked my ears for the rest of his rant.
The rest of the week wasn't nearly interesting, the only things that happened was Blair spilling her water on my shirt 'accidentally' at school, and surprisingly having a super enjoyable time working at Jess' restaurant with Lydia.
———
Just like that, it's Saturday once again, and Lucas is back. I saw him arriving back home when I was playing catch in the front yard with Carlos and Maria. I noticed his eyes flicker towards mine for a moment, but they looked somber, and focused on something else.
I'm now curled up on my bed, sketching something random, my eyes pry away from my sketch book when I noticed Lucas' blinds shut swiftly, and aggressively. I don't think anything of it, and go down to the kitchen for a snack. Mark and Jess are sitting in the kitchen, with a freshly baked batch of chocolate chip cookies, neatly wrapped up in plastic wrap, with a little red bow.
"Who's this for?" I ask, inhaling deeply, the delicious scent wafting through the air.
A saddened expression falls upon both of their faces before Mark speaks up, "Are you friends with Lucas Jones?"
"I know him, yeah, I wouldn't say we're friends though," I respond, my eyebrows furrowing in utter confusion.
"Could you please drop these cookies off at his house, we were going to do it, but he might appreciate you doing it instead," Jess said, I didn't really understand why, but I agree anyways.
As I arrive at his door, I knock three times but there's no answer, although, before I left, Mark said that if no one answered, I can just go in because it's probably unlocked. It feels kind of wrong, but I do so anyways.
There's definitely no one home, I'm about to just drop the cookies off and leave, but then I see a note placed on the kitchen counter.
Dad I'm at the graveyard,
you don't need to call the cops
because I'm not missing.
-Lucas
Curiosity sparks in my brain. Is that why I'm giving him cookies right now? Who's grave? What is happening? I know I probably shouldn't disturb him, but I'm already intrigued as to why he's there, so I pick up the cookies, and run back home.
"Jess, can I please use your car?" I ask, she eyes me suspiciously, but then grabs her keys.
"You're going to find Lucas aren't you," Jess says with a twinkle in her eyes.
Shrugging my shoulders, I grab the keys, and to my surprise, she swiftly scribbles down an address and hands it to me. It's the location of the grave that he's at. "Tell him Mark and I say hi."
I nod, and head off.
Twenty minutes later, I'm walking through the gravesite with the bundle of cookies rested in my hand when I see a certain brunette haired boy sitting down by one. As I get closer and closer, the sniffling and bloodshot eyes from crying become more prominent. So does the bottle of alcohol next to him.
Lucas' head jolts towards my direction as I arrive next to him, he looks at me up and down before turning his head to the grass beneath us. He takes of swig of his beverage before speaking up, "What are you doing here?" He questions, I simply sit next to him and place the cookies between us.
I'm still beyond pissed off at everything he's done, but nobody deserves to lose a loved one. I keep my eyes away from the grave out of respect, he doesn't have to tell me if he doesn't want to.
"Jess made you cookies, she wanted me to give them to you." He nods, then looks up at the grave.
"Are you okay?" I whisper, I think my sincerity catches him off guard, because he looks at me with a baffled face.
"Why do you care? I've been terrible to you."
"Yeah, you have. But nobody deserves to sob in front of a grave and not be asked if they are okay."
Lucas takes a deep breath before speaking, "I was supposed to have a younger sister. Morgan, her name would have been. We were supposed to be a happy four person family. Me, my dad, my mom, and Morgan, but when my mom went into labour with Morgan, there was a problem. The baby wasn't faced the right direction or something, I don't know. They both died during child birth. My mother and my baby sister. It fucked up me and my fathers relationship pretty bad. And today is the anniversary of their passing." He says in one breath, a small tear rolling down his rosy cheeks, he whipped it off quickly though, seeming somewhat embarrassed about showing emotions. He shouldn't feel embarrassed at all.
About three minutes of silence passes before I respond, I don't really know what to say, but I'll just say I can relate. "My mom died too, suicide." I mutter, sympathy rushes through his face as he looks over to me.
"You wanna talk about it?" Lucas asks, his face softening.
I grimace at the question. I hate talking about my parental situation more than I heart to heart moments, "Not much to talk about I guess, she over dosed on antidepressants when I was twelve. I knew it was gonna happen, so it wasn't a shock. She was sick and fucked up in her head for practically all my life, it got the worst when I was around ten. Dad ditched after my youngest sibling, Maria, was born, no aunts, no uncles, no cousins, grandparents all dead. We've been bounced in and out of foster homes since then. Not the good kind, shitty, twisted foster homes. But we lucked out with Jess and Mark I guess, they seem pretty good so far. I'm really sorry about your mom, Lucas."
Lucas' pov:
Wow. I think that's the most Camila has ever said to me.
"I'm really sorry about yours' too. And about your dad leaving." I respond, she gives a small smile, but I can tell it's real and not some "okay thanks now get the fuck away from me" smile.
I glance up to the sky, which is now almost at the point of setting, which fills my head with reminders of what I do when the sunsets on this day every year.
"Alright, it's getting kinda late, we should probably head back to our houses," I say, standing up, throwing the empty bear bottle into the trash and grabbing the cookies.
"Are you really drunk or just foolish and reckless?" Cami asks, following behind me towards my car.
I scoff, but turn my head towards the brunette who's standing with her arms crossed over her chest. "What do you mean?"
"You really think I'm going to let you drive? Even the slightest bit of alcohol could make you crash." She says, snatching the keys from my hand and walking to the drivers seat.
"You don't have to do that," I argue, it's not that I don't want her in my car, I just don't want to be a pain in the ass, I'm not even drunk anyways, but maybe a little bit tipsy.
"Yes I do."
"What about your car?"
"I'll just walk back after I drop you back and get it, this place isn't to far from Jess's restaurant anyways." Camila says, unbothered as she gets into the drivers seat. She gestures for me to get in, so I follow promptly to the passengers seat.
"Are you sure you're fine with this?" I ask once more, she sighs loudly, in a jokingly frustrated way.
"Am I sure that I don't want you to drive under the influence and then crash and fatally die, yes I'm sure." Camila says, quietly giggling at the end.
I mutter in agreement, but can't help but laugh and respond to her dramatic statement, "That wouldn't happen!"
"But it could!"
"Whatever," I mumble, sending her a sarcastically annoyed look, which is cut short when she utters a series of curse words in Spanish, not directed at me, at least I don't think.
"What's wrong?"
"Why the fuck is your seat so far back! How tall are you!" She yells, throwing her hands up in the air.
I burst out in laughter, causing her to groan once more.
"6'3, and you can change it if you want," I say, chuckling at the statement.
"You fucking giant," she mumbled, almost inaudible, as she adjusts everything to the way she likes.
Once we start driving, I ask her, "Hey can you please make a stop please, there's this lookout I like to go to and the suns about to set, so I really want to see it. Only if that's okay of course."
Camila nods, "Yeah, sure."
I smile at her, then type the directions into my phone and plug it into the car. I then put on some music, which Camila clearly likes, because a grin ear to ear appears on her face, and she hums along as the songs play.
This is definitely the happiest I've ever seen her. It's nice to see her truly enjoying life; it was obvious the first day we met that she wasn't in a good mental state. I'm glad that she seems better, she looks better too. Her eyes are brighter, her skin has more color, even her voice has a cheerfuller ring to it. I hope we can put everything past us and just be friends, without the unintended toxicity we've caused between us, well, I've caused.
I'm drawn out of my thoughts as she pulls into the lookout. It's on a cliff side, it looks over the whole city, you can the the sunrise and sunset perfect from this spot.
We walk over to a bench, and just sit in silence, comfortable silence as we watch the sunset.
Camilas' voice fills my ears as she begins to speak, softly, "What's your favorite season? Mines fall. I think the prettiest sunsets happen this time of year. I like that's it's cold too. The heat sucks, summer sucks. You have to wear shorts, and go the the beach. I hate the beach."
"What's wrong with the beach?"
"It's always a competition. Who has the nicest body, who's the most tan. The tan part isn't really a problem though, because, you know, I'm not white, but still. It's all about supporting other people until you don't fit there standards, especially in a bikini. Also, it's always so humid and sticky in the summer. I think that fall is a perfect season, everything looks so pretty, there's always a breeze, and you can drink hot chocolate every single day and not get bored, because it warms you up, so you have to drink it everyday or else you'll be cold and unhappy." She says, smiling to herself as she stares out at the view.
"I like spring. It's never to hot, it's never to cold, it's the season of new beginnings. I think it's the best," I add, Camila nods.
"Springs good too, it's like fall in a way, springs just warmer and brighter, falls colder and darker."
I hum in agreement. Her face goes content once more. She seems so peaceful, focused on the almost set sun before us.
"I love watching sunsets, you wanna know why?" She asks.
"I turn to her, "Why?"
"No matter how bad a day is, you can always watch the sunset and know that the next day is right around the corner, and you can hope for the next day to be better. If it isn't, you can just repeat the process until your day is actually good."
"That's a good way to look at it," I say, she nods, then whispers something along the lines of "I should take my own advice."
"Okay, we should probably start driving home," Camila says, patting me on the shoulder, walking towards the car.
I laugh to myself quietly, following closely behind her.
The drive home was spectacularly peaceful; the only sounds were the music and the quiet hums of Camila, singing along with each and every song that played. Damn she has good music taste if she likes my music.
She pulls into my driveway, turns off the music, and then the engine, and then hands me the keys.
Taking a deep breath, I speak, stating the obvious, we both want to say it, it had been floating in the air since we started watching the sunset. "Friends?" I stick my hand out, indicating her to shake it if she agrees.
I'm assuming she does, because she smiles, grasps my hand, and shakes it timidly, "Friends." Holy heck her hand are cold. It's like holding a fresh icicle.
With that, she gets out of the car, waves goodbye, and walks back to her home. She lives next door, so it's not like it's a mile walk or anything, but I peek back and watch her to make sure she gets inside okay. I slide down in my seat, grinning to myself, elated that I've make a friend out of someone who used to most likely hated me.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see several missed calls and a couple texts, all from Blair. My smile stays plastered on my face, Blair was worried about me, that means she remembered what today was, gosh she's great.
—
A/N
YAYAYAYYAAY I FINALLY UPLOADED AND THIS IS A REALLY LONG CHAPTER WHOOOHOOO
HAPPY EASTER!!!!
also hehe tonnes of Camila and Lucas content in this chapter 😻😻
i'll try to get chapter nine out in a couple of weeks at the latest, again I'm so sorry it took so long for this song to come out :))
ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE I ENJOYED WRITING IT
- juniper x