A/N: okay so it's like a several hours late. sorry. apologies for any typos :) it's :) almost :) three :) in :) the :) morning :)
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Nerves immediately spring upon her, like she knew they would, the moment Lauren pulls up to an unfamiliar house.
Camila recognizes the area for what it is – the richer side of town. Every lawn manicured (a result of routine sprinklers going off despite the potential drought threatening Miami), with a neat patterned walkway down the middle. Two stories follow the same mold as the rows upon rows of houses form the cozy neighborhood.
"Snob hill," Dinah mutters from the backseat.
Camila glances at Dinah through the rearview mirror, and catches the smug look on her face. Probably from making another Disney reference. Why someone thinks that's a noteworthy accomplishment, she doesn't know.
Camila rolls her eyes, and Dinah's smirk only grows.
Lauren shuts off the car, making the music come to an abrupt stop. The distant atmosphere the music created breaks, allowing the awkwardness and doubt to leak right through the newly created holes. It seeps through like water dripping through a make-shift cup of cradled palms.
Despite not recognizing the song (or any songs recently for that matter), Camila really wishes she would just turn the car back on.
She drums her fingers against her thighs to an uneven rhythm. She sees Lauren's eyes darting towards her hands, as if willing her to stop the nervous tick.
"We don't have to go," Lauren begins slowly, as if reading her thoughts. Though at this point, from the body language Camila is blatantly exuding, she's not sure mind reading abilities would make that much of a difference. "I can turn right around, and head back home."
"You were the one who invited me," Camila mutters distractedly. She tugs at the loose ends of her denim shorts.
"Looks like she's having second thoughts," Dinah murmurs from the backseat.
Camila doesn't acknowledge Dinah's comment with words, but exchanges a worried look with her through the rearview mirror. Her eyes then dart towards Lauren again in the driver's seat.
Her neighbor is tense, beginning to look as tense as Camila feels. And suddenly she begins to wonder if Dinah's observation is correct.
"I'm fine," Camila replies stiffly.
It's the last thing that's said between them before they're walking up the white steps to Alexa's house.
They pause before the door, and Camila takes a moment to study the intricate design of the wooden mahogany door. It looks too fancy to be in house that was practically identical to the next door neighbors'.
She clears her throat, attempting to say something before Dinah decides to make some kind of dumb Hunger Games joke.
But the words fail make it past her lips when the door suddenly flies open.
Out pokes the head of a girl who looks vaguely familiar.
She swings the door open fully, and Camila gets the chance to see her from head to toe. The first thing she notices – because, well how could she not – is that the girl is pretty. Like ridiculously pretty. The kind of pretty that would swallow up the whole attention of everyone the moment she steps into a room.
"I saw you pull up," the girl says with a wide smile.
It's at this moment that Camila understands. She was one of those girls that had picked Lauren up that time Camila had approached her on her doorstep. The Jeep girl.
The girl runs a hand through her shiny tangle of brown hair, and it falls in an annoyingly perfect part as if her hand was some kind of sacred hair taming comb.
Camila frowns when the girl outstretches her arms and embraces Lauren warmly. Her frown deepens when Lauren returns the hugs.
Camila recognizes it. She knows those hugs all too well.
From the start of their friendship Lauren had always been the one with the best hugs in the group. Of course, Camila probably thinks it's just a bias that she would prefer Lauren's over anyone else's. Her arms always had the way of making you feel like you were being taken in, in all of your entirety. Wrapped up close and snug like she was trying to bring you closer than just the physicality of the act.
It started in the shoulders, then the press of her body against yours, then her face buried in your neck.
Yeah, Camila remembers.
Even though she hasn't been on the receiving end of one of those hugs in a very long time.
"Long time no see," the girl murmurs against Lauren's shoulder.
"I saw you like last week, Lucy," Lauren says sheepishly.
Another girl comes to the door, after the two break apart.
"Who're you?"
"Nice to see you too, Vero." Lauren rolls her eyes before also bringing her into a hug, albeit a shorter one. "This is my friend Camila."
Camila tries not to notice the way Lauren stumbled over the word friend. Instead she forces a tiny grin (that probably ends up looking like a grimace), and extends her hand.
They both look down at her hand, before looking at each other, and laughing out loud.
"No need for the formalities. Any friend of Lauren's is cool with us," the first girl - Lucy - says with a dazzling smile.
It unnerves Camila how shiny this girl's teeth are, and how pretty she is, and how she locks arms with Lauren playfully.
She looks away from their intertwined arms to notice Veronica studying her intensely.
"I feel like I've seen you before," Veronica says, pursing her lips.
"She was a grade below us Vero," Lauren sighs.
"I remember now." Veronica's eyes travel up and down her body. A slow smile spreads across her already rather mischievous looking face. "You're the girl with the bows right?"
It's something so trivial and meaningless now, Camila doesn't know how to respond to it. There's a disassociating feeling that grips her whenever she's reminded of her past self.
Her face flushes and she glances to Lauren for help.
"Oh my god, Vero, way to be creepy," Lucy interjects with an eye roll.
Camila feels her face burn and the flush deepen beneath their stares. She isn't sure which is having more of an effect on her sudden facial pigment change – their curious gazes or the fact that they bring up the bows.
"Don't worry," Veronica consoles, as if she notices the way Camila's face has turned crimson. "It was pretty fucking adorable."
"Okay, can we come inside or what?" Lauren huffs.
"Fine. Alexa's upstairs anyway," Veronica says turning on her heel, and heading back inside. They follow suit.
Camila sharply inhales before crossing the threshold, Dinah closely behind her.
She tries to take in her surroundings, the fact that everything inside kind of looks like someone hired an interior designer. Everything strangely matches with that overpriced, overrated rustic looking furniture someone would find at Living Spaces.
After a few more observations, she's beginning to believe it.
"I'm feeling a little out of my element," Dinah admits, letting out a low whistle.
"How do you think I feel?" Camila retorts, lagging behind the three girls.
"Awkward and probably a little jealous, you know, considering Lauren isn't holding your hand," Dinah says suggestively, tilting her head to the girl specifically. Camila's eyes dart towards the direction of the gesture and instantly feels her mouth tug into a sour frown.
Because Dinah's observation (no matter how grating it is) is correct.
They're holding hands now, fingers loosely intertwined that looks far too comfortable for Camila's taste.
Lauren looks over her shoulder, and catches her eye. Eyebrows pull together in confusion, before Lauren glances down at their hands and grimaces. The contact is broken in an instant. Not that Camila cares. Because she doesn't.
Lauren can hold hands with whoever the hell she wants to.
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Alexa Ferrer isn't anything Camila expects.
Then again, her expectations were a bit distorted considering she didn't really know the girl. The one chemistry class they shared a table had only lasted on semester. And it wasn't like they shared any common interests besides – well – Lauren.
She expects someone unapproachable, edgy, hip, unfairly beautiful. Like one of those girls who wear flower crowns, with the shredded croptops and sinfully short denim shorts to a summer concert.
She's expecting someone shallow, someone with a knack for being a really good poser.
The assumption is especially strong after Camila steps into Alexa's room.
Which looks like some kind of aesthetic tumblr post that probably has soft grunge somewhere in their blog title. Bare white walls, adorn with dim Christmas lights lining the edges of the ceiling. It casts a soft glow across the large room, illuminating the clothed poster hung over the head of the bed. Camila glances at the intricate patterns of the poster, reminding her more and more of some antique looking carpet found in her grandma's living room. She wonders what it means. She wonders if Alexa even knows what it means.
But her initial judgements about Lauren's friend gets thrown out the window when Alexa looks up from her phone, and cracks a friendly half smile. "I see you brought company."
"This is Camila-"
"-Cabello. I know," Alexa says, eyes flickering to her. "We had chemistry together."
"Uh, right," Camila stammers.
Alexa sits upright and sets the phone down on her bed. "It's good to see you."
Camila's eyebrows knit together.
"Lauren's told me a lot about you," Alexa continues.
"She has?"
"Good things I promise."
"What? She doesn't ever tell me anything," Veronica complains, plopping on the computer chair.
"That's because you have a big mouth," Lucy quips, moving to sit on the bed beside Alexa. Veronica rolls her eyes at this.
"And she tells you things?" Veronica questions flatly.
"She tells me more than you."
"Only because you guys have hooked up. I bet if I slept with Lauren, she'd totally have no filter."
"Oh my god Veronica."
Immediately Camila's eyes fall to Lauren's red face. The accusation is on her tongue, but she bites it down.
"Oh wow this just got awkward," Dinah murmurs beside Camila.
Awkward is an understatement.
She feels incredibly stupid, as if she purposely set herself up. Which, in hindsight she supposes she kind of did. Of course this was a bad idea. What did she possibly expect walking into a house with fucking Victoria secret models?
(Camila wouldn't even be surprised if she found all of that fluffy angel winged lingerie in the closet).
"Still think your life isn't a rom-com, Mila?" Dinah giggles.
She's out of her element. It's another understatement. At least with Ashley, there was practically the middle of the fucking country between them to lessen the increasing feeling of inadequate in front of Lauren's hookups.
"Okay guys that's enough," Alexa's voice rings through her pity party. Veronica and Lucy's bickering comes to an abrupt stop, and Alexa turns back to Camila. "Sorry about that. My kids are normally better behaved," she teases, making Camila smile softly despite the situation and the newly revealed information.
She isn't sure what it is with Alexa. Perhaps it's the warm smile or the soft voice that puts her ease.
(Or maybe it's because Lauren is standing so close to her that the smell of shampoo is becoming increasingly distracting).
Oddly enough, Camila feels genuine comfort. A sincerity she forgot people were capable of. Alexa's smile is small and thin, but it immediately calms her. Because even though Alexa does dress like she stepped out of a weekend at Coachella there isn't anything fabricated about her.
It's a no brainer which of Lauren's friends she prefers.
She takes a seat at the edge of the bed, and the conversation resumes without her. She absently listens to them, gossiping about who they saw at the supermarket, the casual conversations about school, who they think is hot.
And then the conversation takes a turn as Veronica addresses her.
"What about you?"
"What?" Camila's head snaps up.
They all look at her expectantly. She hates this new recent development that's been with the newfound act of socializing. At least in a relatively normal setting catered to her age group.
They want an answer. What's her thing? What does she do? What is she?
She thinks she should learn to be prepared by now. Have a planned response to these sorts of questions. Because obviously the trust is far from what she ever wants to reveal.
Camila immediately falls back to the list. It baffles her how that comes to her and has come to her in the past. How was she so willing to share this? It's the only thing she's actually doing with her life. The only thing worth mentioning.
She's not sure if that makes her exciting or just pathetic.
"I'm actually, um, working on a bucket list," Camila begins, eyes flickering uncertainly between the girls.
Lauren stares at her almost incredulously, as if surprised with the fact that Camila has so willingly given up this piece of information. "I'm having some trouble trying to finish writing it though."
"Yeah you're having trouble actually finish it too, Mila," Dinah adds.
It doesn't take long before she's telling them about each and every item on the list. She leaves the important one for last, casting a furtive glance towards Lauren who has moved away from her during her brief explanation.
Lauren promptly averts her eyes, and pretends to fiddle with something on Alexa's desk.
Veronica sits upright in her seat as Camila's list comes to a close; it reminds Camila distinctly of a dog with their attention grabbed. Striking a close resemblance to an overly enthusiastic golden retriever waiting for the frisbee to be thrown.
"Wait you're a virgin? Dude sign me the hell up I'll totally sleep with you."
Camila flushes and Lauren drops whatever she's holding in her hand. It lands as a sharp clatter against the wooden desk making all heads turn to her.
Lauren scrambles to grab her phone, Camila realizes.
She wonders absently if Lauren's been texting Ashley. The thought makes her lips curl into frown.
"I kind of already made an – arrangement with someone." Camila forces herself to train her gaze away from her flushing neighbor.
It seems to be futile considering she catches Lucy and Alexa exchanging a look. Veronica remains oblivious, hanging over the back of the chair again, and pouts.
"Bummer, but you know, if you ever change your mind..." She smiles widely. "I can help you out with your weed problem though," Veronica continues with an appreciative nod. Camila watches as the girl rolls on the chair towards Alexa's desk. She reaches for the purse with the long strap dangling over the edge of the table.
"Are you gonna smoke a bowl now?" Lucy questions.
"We're helping bow girl with her list," Veronica retorts, digging through her bag.
"I don't want to go home smelling."
"You're not going to smell, Lucy," Alexa drawls from the bed.
"Excuse me. Tell that to my dad. He's like part bloodhound."
"I got a special delivery from my dealer's boss. She actually flew in from Texas with some new strains straight from Colorado."
Camila watches as Veronica pulls out various prescription bottles.
It reminds her of the pills on her nightstand. A cold chill falls down her spine when Veronica uncaps the bottle. She brings the edge of the rim up to her nose inhaling briefly. Her mouth curves into a mischievous smile. "Dank."
The other girls laugh. Camila's attention flickers to Lauren and catches her neighbor roll her eyes, making Camila wonders if Veronica is the type of person who wears weed socks.
Veronica passes around the bottles, allowing the girls to observe them.
Camila is too busy watching the exchange that she doesn't notice Lauren sidle up to her. There's a nervous expression across her pale face that Camila recognizes as embarrassment.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I think.
The prospect of actually doing the smoking sounded a lot more appealing as she was writing it down. Now that it's finally presented before her. Well...
"This isn't your best idea, Walz," Dinah says. "Then again, I don't think you've ever had any good ideas." She adds with an amused smile.
"No one's going to pressure you," Lauren mutters, reminding her that her neighbor is watching her closely.
Despite the apprehension with the situation, Camila feels a twinge of annoyance at Lauren's concern. She's not a child. She doesn't need one of those stupid lectures they gave in excess in middle school about saying no to drugs.
Her mouth twists into a frown. "I know that."
There's a bite in her voice that she doesn't mean to come out. Lauren's tiny recoil is evident enough that her response was harsher than necessary. Immediately, the guilt comes to surface and she feels herself visibly deflate.
The apology is on her tongue, but before she can make words form, Veronica lets out a loud cry. Both of them turn to the girls to find Alexa shaking her head and Lucy roll her eyes as Veronica brings a hand to her forehead.
"I forgot Elda," Veronica whines.
Camila blinks, perplexed at the sudden outburst. "Elda?"
"Her pipe," Lucy murmurs exasperatedly. Camila pulls her eyebrows together, and glances from each girl even more befuddled.
"She bought a pipe," Alexa begins, patting the girl's head. "And according to Vero it reminds her so much of the Elder wand from Harry Potter. She calls it Elder, but then later changes it because it felt more like an Elda."
"She's beautiful," Vero mumbles, voice muffled by her hands.
Alexa sighs. "Joint it is then."
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Music blares as Lauren and Alexa fiddle with the speaker sitting at her desk. Something with a heavy bass drop that makes Camila feel like she's in some club.
She watches silently, as Veronica twists the grinder a few times, then peels open the metal cylinder and pours out the unfamiliar substance.
The smell tickles her nose, and leaves an unsavory taste in the back of her throat. She makes a face before she realizes it.
"Don't knock it until you try it bow girl," Veronica says, with a wide smile.
"You can't roll a joint to save your life, Vero," Lucy sighs, reaching for it. The other slaps her hands away.
"And you think you can do any better?"
"I don't think, I know."
Vero ignores her and proceeds to fold the paper. The process takes a few tries, commentated by Lucy's snide comments and disgruntled scoff. But eventually Veronica holds up the rolled paper triumphantly.
"The way they praise it is like they're holding up simba or something," Dinah mumbles.
Veronica grabs the nearest lighter on the table. The flame flicks on, dancing dangerously close to the tip of the joint, until finally Camila sees the tiny embers, and the trail of smoke spark the end.
She holds it out to her.
"You wanna do the honors bow girl?"
"She doesn't know how to smoke it, genius," Lucy snaps, snatching away the joint.
"I know that." Vero rolls her eyes. "That's why I offered, geez. Besides," she says slowly, glancing back at her. She feels Vero's gaze, heavy against her. Traveling up and down her body slowly. Camila shifts uncomfortably. "She looks more like a hands-on learner. Aren't you, bow girl?"
Her eyes dart nervously towards Lucy taking a deep drag, and Veronica smiling widely at her.
"We could always do blowbacks," Veronica suggests, taking the joint from Lucy. "Come closer."
She doesn't wait for Camila to move, instead scooting too close the already short distance between them.
Veronica's fingers tangle into her hair. She feels her manicured nails gently scratch into her scalp. She brings their faces closer, as she goes to take a deep drag of the joint.
"Whoa whoa what are you doing?" Lauren's voice booms over the music. Camila directs her attention towards her. Lauren is glaring at Veronica, as she pulls Camila upright from the edge of the bed.
"She wanted to try blowbacks." Veronica shrugs.
Lauren then whips around to glare at Camila.
"Did you really? Or is she just saying that?"
"Glad to know you trust me," Veronica mumbles sardonically.
"Yes," Camila snaps, roughly tugging her hand away. "Now let me do my blowback."
"I'm liking you more and more bow girl." One of Veronica's eyebrows cocks upward.
"She has a name," Lauren scoffs.
"Unless, you want to do them with her, Lauren?" Veronica questions rather smugly.
At this Lauren promptly flushes. Veronica jumps from her seat and points an accusing finger at her. "I knew it! You guys are totally dating."
"That's not - no - we're not-"
"So you really don't mind if I try to hook up with her?" Veronica asks innocently.
"What the hell? Of course I fucking mind. I don't want you corrupting my friend."
"What if I want to be corrupted?" Camila finally pipes in when she gets the chance.
Lauren stops what she's doing, and stares at her. Something flickers in her green eyes, something that looks an awful lot like betrayal. And then her expression tightens, a wall comes up that leaves Camila forced to decipher her face.
She doesn't get much of a chance to read it because then Lauren turns on her heel and storms out of the room.
"Is she mad?" Veronica probes awkwardly.
"No shit Sherlock," Dinah scoffs.
Camila feels a twinge of annoyance at the question. If anyone who knows Lauren it should be these people, right?
She rises from her seat, and moves towards the door.
After walking around the empty house for several minutes, stumbling into multiple rooms just to find them empty, she finds Lauren downstairs in the kitchen. She's leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and a frown on her face.
"What are you doing?" Camila is the first to speak.
"What's it to you?" Lauren snaps. Camila sighs wearily.
"Can you stop that?"
"Stop what?"
"Being so – I don't know – petulant."
Lauren immediately straightens her posture. "Me? Petulant? You've got to be kidding me. Who's the one that sulks every time Ashley gets potentially brought up?"
"I do not sulk. The only one sulking here is you."
"Whatever, Camila. Do what you want. I don't care," Lauren snaps.
"Are you sure? Because it really seems like you do."
"I don't care what you do."
"Really?"
"Or who you do it with. So go do your dumb blowbacks."
Anger begins to flare up in her chest at the turn of conversation. It's irritating how hot and cold things are with Lauren. If she isn't trying to kiss Lauren, she's arguing with her. And this whole thing could have been avoided had she not invited Camila to this stupid get together in the first place.
Camila begins to get the distinct impression that they're talking about more than just blowbacks.
"If you would just stop acting like your friends stole your toy you'd realize I want you to care," Camila snaps. "And I don't want to do blowbacks with them. I want to do them with you."
Lauren's rigid posture falls. Her green eyes widen, dropping any sense of bite. The longer she holds her gaze the faster the annoyance fades away. Because it's Lauren, and Lauren has this infuriating way of making the anger bubble inside of her while simultaneously making it fade away.
"You want to..." Lauren begins uncertainly.
"Yes," Camila murmurs softly. "With you."
"Me?"
"Only you."
"Camz."
The nickname rings through her ears, sounding soft and melodious at the same time.
"So will you come back and do a blowback with me? Because I'm pretty sure we're breaking about fifty rules on your dumb list right now," she mutters. That immediately breaks the tension because then Lauren scoffs.
"Camila there are only six rules."
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By the time they head back to the room, there's another joint going around.
Veronica hands it over, wearing a shit-eating grin, as her brown eyes dart from Camila to Lauren.
Camila tries not to think up of the ridiculous scenarios the girl has probably conjured up during their time away from the girls. Instead she tries to pay attention to Lauren holding the joint.
Camila has never been into smokers.
(She thinks it probably has to do with lung cancer or something).
Yet, she cannot deny the strangely satisfying feeling that comes with seeing Lauren hold the joint close to her face.
Then again, it seems as if everything Lauren does is strangely satisfying, as annoying as that is to admit.
"Come here," Lauren commands tentatively. If Camila weren't so close already she probably would have missed it. Green eyes lock upon hers for half a second before sliding down to her lips.
She feels Lauren grab her wrists, bringing their hands up between them.
Lauren turns her head, making Camila's nose brush against her cheek. She feels the flesh hallow out as Lauren brings the joint to her lips and inhales. She quickly turns to face Camila, cupping the tiny space between them. She barely feels the brush of Lauren's lips as she inhales deeply.
An earthy taste filters through her mouth, mixed with something she assumes is irrevocably Lauren.
"Now exhale," Lauren mutters.
"Blowbacks never work," Alexa mumbles. "She needs to actually smoke it."
Camila pulls off the scrunchie from her wrist, and throws her hair up into a ponytail.
"Alright, let's do this," Camila says, hoping the nerves aren't apparent in her voice.
"Don't think this is a good idea, Walz," Dinah chimes in. Camila gives her a look that roughly translates to 'I can do what I want'. Dinah then promptly shrugs.
Lauren holds out the joint, and she takes it with uncertain hands. She holds it between her fingers and brings it up to her mouth, glancing at Lauren who's eyes flicker down to her lips.
Camila inhales, instantly feeling the smoke travel down her throat, slippery and filling her lungs. The intake is too much, and she ends up coughing, except it comes out much more rougher than how it went down. Her throat burns. Thick white smoke rolls out in heavy puffs with each scorching cough. She heaves, a desperate short lived one before she another cough bursts out.
"Give her some water." She hears one of them say.
A water bottle with the top unscrewed is thrust upon her. She grasps it, taking a slow drink. The water cools her throat down, coating her windpipe in a soothing way.
The coughing subsides, and all of the girls laugh, along with Lauren.
She passes the joint back to Lauren, her burning throat being a living embodiment of regret of inhaling that. Lauren giggles, before taking another hit.
"Now you can cross this off your list, bow girl," Veronica says cheerfully.
"Right," Camila mutters, voice hoarse. Another round of laughter resounds through the room.
"I have an idea," Veronica states, abruptly rising from her seat and ambling towards the desk. She searches around the desk until she finds a notebook and pen, and heads back to the bed. "We can help you finish making your list."
"Okay."
"I say you put down stuff you really want to do but never got the chance to," Lucy suggests.
"That is literally what a bucket list is," Alexa deadpans.
"Okay listen, I don't need this kind of negativity," Lucy quips.
"Yeah like what about prom? Did you go to yours?" Veronica asks, ignoring the banter between the two.
"Um, no..." Camila frowns.
Veronica hastily scribbles something down. "You ever been to a concert?"
Camila shakes her head.
The girls continue to rattle off about the things she could be doing. Veronica writes furiously on the notepad, with Alexa and Lucy occasionally chiming in.
She glances around the room and finds Lauren sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. Green eyes stare back at her, dark and wide, melding in with the black pupils. The grey hazy filter in the room circulates in lazy spirals, brushing against Lauren's pale face.
Camila's gaze is locked, entranced with the sight. Captivated with the way Lauren can be so effortlessly beautiful and make sitting on the floor look so attractive.
Lauren's red lips tilt into a small smile. It's the first time this whole night that she's smiled at her this way. The way that reminds her of the moment just before she kissed her that time in her room.
Camila's heart picks up, and she swallows thickly.
"Come sit next to me," Lauren says.
She doesn't need telling twice, moving to sit beside her. Her back presses against the mattress as she scoots closer, shoulders brushing against Lauren's.
She vaguely hears the girls giggling on the bed above them.
"Hi," Lauren says with a smile.
Camila bites down the smile forming on her face as she murmurs a shy: "Hi."
"You okay?"
"I'm good," Camila reassures. "I'm fine."
Lauren's smile grows, showing off pearly white teeth. They contrast sharply to the red lipstick across her lips. Camila's eyes dart down to her mouth, studying the white shiny surface, and ridges pressing against soft crimson skin. She suddenly begins thinking how nice it would be to feel the edges of Lauren's teeth with her tongue. Taste the lipstick smeared across her mouth, feel the soft, slippery touch of Lauren's own tongue.
She flushes at the thought, turning her head away abruptly. She's parched, and she isn't sure if it's just the drugs anymore.
Camila waits for something to come - anything besides the horrible smoky aftertaste lodged in the back of her throat. She sips on the water bottle they handed her, noticing glumly that it's already half empty. Yet the dryness on her tongue hasn't faded.
"Turn up the music." She hears Alexa command from the bed. "Put that playlist we were listening to the other day on."
Camila leans back against the mattress, relishing in the softness of the cushion. She feels the bed dip behind her, and watches as Veronica scrambles over towards the desk, searching through the iPod hooked up to the speaker.
A small snort falls from the girl as she holds the screen up to them.
"Puff the magic dragon. Very original Alexa."
A light, bubbly sensation builds in the pit of her stomach. Camila doesn't realize what it is until afterwards.
Laughter.
"What's so funny?" Lauren's voice breaks through her giggling.
She blinks slowly, realizing just how heavy her eyelids feel. Lauren's eyes are black, and Camila absently wonders if it's because of the dim lighting. Or maybe Lauren's always had black eyes, and she's just noticing now. Black like burning coals.
A dopey smile forms on her face as she leans closer.
"You were in love with a dragon," Camila says.
"What?" Lauren giggles again.
"You told me that once," Camila mumbles. She feels her face grow warm as the words roll out, slick and smooth. A delightful sort of word vomit. "You said you fell in love with a dragon."
"I said that when we were, like, five," Lauren laughs gently.
"So you still said it," Camila retorts.
Her head feels light, but she can't hold it up. There's an ache in her neck that she thinks probably came from trying to hold her head up. It's a fickle contradiction. The though brings a slow, dull smile to her face. And then a giggle threatens to erupt from her upturned lips.
Lauren catches it, and bursts out into a small chuckle.
Adorably half lidded green eyes study her appreciatively. She's sure her face would be burning....if it didn't feel so hot already.
And then she feels warm knuckles ghosting over nape of her neck, as Lauren twirls her ponytail between her fingers.
"I used to like it when you wore your hair up," Lauren mumbles, eyes cast down. "You didn't do it very often."
"Something about being exposed freaks me out," Camila responds thickly. "And I don't really like showing off my neck."
She hears Lauren inhale sharply.
"That's my favorite part," Lauren murmurs.
Camila suddenly feels a slow, tentative stroke of fingertips running along her neck. A shiver erupts, and she trembles beneath Lauren's touch.
Lauren was always the affection one among her friends. There always were physical words and phrases in the way she touched someone. As if she was speaking a simpler language across someone's skin.
The language was an easier one to understand. It was one Camila was actually quite fluent in. Or at least she used to be.
Because Lauren was always the affectionate one with Camila in particular.
And she relished in it, soaking up every opportunity in which Lauren would dote on her. Play with her hair. Pull her into hugs. Intertwine their fingers. Cuddle up during sleepovers.
She remembers being quite selfish when it came to Lauren's affection.
It's reminiscent now, feeling Lauren's hands on her. It's almost as if she's back to being in –
She isn't really sure how it happens, that Lauren is pressed up against her side, face buried in her neck. She feels Lauren's breath on her skin, warm, slow puffs beating against her neck.
"You smell nice," Lauren mumbles against her. The words dance across her skin, skimming the few stray strands of her hair. An involuntary shiver travels down her spin, causing a buzzing ripple effect down to her toes.
She idly wonders if it's the drugs or if it's just Lauren herself who makes her body react this way.
She feels Lauren's nose, and the nostrils inhale against her flesh, again. Long and deep. It tickles and makes Camila squirm, unintentionally cradling Lauren's face between her cheek and shoulder.
"You smell, like, really nice," Lauren sighs, lips brushing against Camila's neck.
"You already said that."
"I can say it again if I want to," Lauren exhales. Hot breath suffuses throughout her body.
And then she feels something. Something so distinctive, something she hadn't felt in this reality. But it was something that was plaguing her mind ever since that dream.
Lips. The softness of lips. The pressure of pursed lips. Lips puckered into a half kiss. A gentle pout against her warm skin.
Camila's body stiffens, as Lauren's mouth moves without rhythm, without cause or reason, parting and closing around the all too sensitive flesh.
Lauren's mouth parts again and Camila feels the brief sensation of a smooth, hot tongue. And then she feels it again as Lauren abandons any notion of pressing her lips closed.
She begins leaving open mouthed kisses moving closer and closer to the nape of her neck.
Her teeth are gentle. It's not like Lauren's never bitten her before, but now the context is so inherently different. It's – well – hot, if Camila is being completely honest. And beneath this hazy high, honesty seems to be the only thing that's registered from her brain to her mouth.
She feels the tip of Lauren's tongue softly trace a small circle against her skin. Camila swallows hard, hoping it doesn't derail her from her ministrations.
Somewhere between the dizzying sensation of Lauren's sucking, Camila's hand finds its way into her neighbor's hair. Her fingers get caught; unintentionally tugging and making Lauren pull away with a soft grunt.
An apology is already forming on her lips, because really the last thing she wants is for Lauren to stop, but before she can so much as say anything, Lauren bites down hard on her already sensitive neck.
The preconceived words fall out in a strangled sound, a cross between a frustrated cry and a suppressed groan. Her fingers curl into Lauren's hair, mirroring the pain of the bite with a sharp yank. Lauren sighs against her neck. Feverish breathing falls in short puffs, dancing between the miniscule trapped space of her raw neck and Lauren's warm lips.
Camila feels her mouth begin to move up her neck, trailing her jaw line. The kisses turn sloppy again as they come closer to Camila's mouth. Lauren's uneven breathing beats against her lips, her nose brushes against hers. She knows this routine. She'd been craving it ever since Lauren gave it to her that moment that feels so long ago.
Her hand tightens around Lauren's hair, as she pulls her closer, and crushes their mouths together in a searing kiss. Lips part immediately, sucking, tasting, pulling, dipping, sliding. She feels Lauren's moan against her tongue, arousing every part of her senses. Putting everything, every touch, every sound on hyper sensitive alert.
Camila's other hand trails down Lauren's waist, fisting the material of her shirt before coming across Lauren's skin. Her fingertips push the hem of Lauren's top higher until –
"Well this just infinitely more exciting."
Somewhere Camila registers Veronica's voice, but for the life of her can't bring herself to care. Lauren on the other hand, pulls away immediately.
She blinks, eyebrows pulling together. Camila takes in her appearance. Hair disheveled from Camila's tugging, mouth red and puffy, lipstick smudged. It takes nearly everything in her not to pull her back into her space.
"Um, I – I need to use the restroom," Lauren blurts out, rising from her seat before Camila can offer some sort of protest. She scrambles out of the room and the door shuts loudly behind her.
The girls all glance down at Camila on the floor. At least Alexa and Lucy have the decency to try to hide their smiles, but Veronica full on grins.
"You've got a little..." she trails off, gesturing wiping something off her mouth. "And Lucy you owe me five dollars."
"I'm not giving you five dollars. This didn't prove anything!"
"They were literally, like sucking face right now. How does that not prove anything?"
Lucy turns to her. "Camila, are you guys dating?"
"No," Camila mutters.
"See?"
"Camila, are you guys fuck buddies?" Veronica interrupts patiently.
"Guys, come on," Alexa interjects wearily.
No but she agreed to have sex with me.
And apparently she said that out loud.
They all burst into laughter. A flush graces her cheeks, as she leans back against the mattress, head tilted back up towards the ceiling. For some reason this all isn't bothering her as much as it usually would. It's actually kind of – dare she say it – funny.
"I kind of really want to have sex with her," Camila continues.
"Same," Veronica responds sagely.
"I already did," Lucy snorts.
"Me too," Alex adds.
"What the hell why am I always the one left out?" Veronica snaps.
She then expects Dinah's sassy inappropriate comment. Perhaps a tasteless orgy joke.
She waits for the crass teasing, followed by the roll of laughter. She even anticipates the smug "I told you so". Except none of these things come. Not one.
She lifts her head up, glancing blearily across the hazy room. Her eyes flit around the girls in a similar daze, looking for the familiar smile, the bronze complexion, and the golden mane of hair. And when none of these features focus in on the girls sitting before her, something inside her brain clicks.
"Where's Dinah?" Camila questions abruptly.
"Dinah?" Veronica probes languidly. "Who's Dinah?"
The grin on Alexa's face falls.
"That sounds so familiar," Lucy comments from beside her. "Like I heard it in a dream," she adds wistfully.
"You claim everything you hear is from dreams," Veronica retorts.
"Guys..." Alexa begins.
"Wait, didn't she go to our school too? She was that hot shot surfer, right? The one that died last year. My brother told me the school had this big memorial service for her."
"Wow, that's so sad-"
"-Guys-"
"-Yeah apparently she got caught in a riptide or something."
"A riptide?"
"You'd think a surfer would know how to swim out of one though."
"Dude that's fucked up. She totally died."
"Sorry, you're right."
"Guys!" Alexa nearly shouts. She gestures to Camila pointedly, and the others fall silent.
"Bow girl, where're you going? You're going to miss my favorite song," Veronica calls, but Camila only half listens. The other half is acutely aware of the heavy pounding her heart makes against her chest.
On her way out she thinks she might've heard their hushed voices beneath the music. She might've heard Alexa.
"Guys, she was their friend."
Camila slams the door behind her before she can hear anymore.
Her breathing is loud and uneven, as she stumbles out into the hallway. Pictures upon pictures of Alexa and her family adorn the painted walls.
She pushes through the hallway, her feet catching on the carpet. Her hands grasp at the wall, blindly looking for something, a door, an exit, anything. Her fingertips feel the cool wall; it contrasts with her feverish skin. For a moment she considers pressing her face against the wall, in an attempt to cool down, but the thought is dashed away when her fingers find a doorknob. They latch on to the metal surface and turn.
She stumbles into the doorway without so much as glancing up. She lets out a shaky breath when she spots the overly shiny floor and realizes she's in the bathroom. A tiny sense of relief trickles down her chest, before it is completely washed away by the tidal wave of panic. It recedes, pulling away like a straining elastic band before crashing back down upon her.
Her chest constricts as her breathing becomes heavy and laborious. Each breath comes out in painful huffs.
She slams the door shut behind her, and slumps heavily against it. The back of her head hits the wooden surface, but the pain goes ignored. It's nothing compared to the tightening of her throat, and the feeling that her lungs are filling up.
"She's not here," Camila mutters, pacing around the bathroom in a frenzy. Her shoes screech against the shiny tile floor, her speed increases. A hand runs through her hair, fingers get tangled within locks, and Camila ends up pulling. "She's not here. I don't know where she's at. She doesn't do this. She doesn't just leave."
The sound of rushing water muffles her ears. Hard pressurized liquid beating against a hard surface. It runs through her ear canal, twisting in rapid motions in her head.
Stop it. Turn it off. Turn it off.
It feels almost as if the water is rattling through her skull, before completely submerging her beneath the surface.
She makes her way toward the running sink, catching a brief hazy glimpse of the white rush stream down the shiny silver faucet. Trembling hands already reaching for the sink.
Her eyes take in her disheveled state in the mirror. The stranger is frantic, dull brown eyes blown out black. Mouth twisted into a pained grimace. The pale skin looks grey, cheeks hallowed out.
Camila glances down the face, past the trembling chin covered in smeared lipstick, and down the neck. That's when she notices it, bright red, shaped in a crooked, slanted over just in the spot where Lauren's mouth was a few minutes ago.
She glances at her reflection again , and that's when she barely comes to the realization that someone is already there.
The water was on...
She sees Lauren behind her, white-faced, as if she's seen a ghost.
"Camila?"
It snaps Camila out of her split attention.
It shatters the panic, piercing it right down the middle. It crumbles around her. The remnants of the panic attack become clear as she blinks weakly. The death grip around the sink loosens and her hands ache from it.
"Camila," Lauren starts tentatively, but she's not listening. In fact, she's less than half aware of Lauren even being here. "What did they do?" Lauren's tone turns defensive.
And Camila feels absolutely disgusted with herself. Ashamed that she still lets this get to her. Mortified that this affects her so heavily at any given moment. That she is still susceptible to even the slightest of triggers – the mere mention of her best friend's name.
It comes out dirty as it rolls out of the mouths of people who never knew her, who probably can't even put a face to a name, who most likely never spoke to her.
It strikes a nerve. It makes everything about her entire situation blatant, and vulnerable.
It makes everything obvious that the residue Dinah left behind is still very much inside, and coated in the inner walls of her heart. A perpetual stain that she can't physically see, but she feels. God does she feel it. Twisting, stabbing, aching, and suffocating.
It's a disturbing sensation that makes her feel irrevocably weak. Terribly below the average line of sanity. Not normal.
Nothing about her is normal at this point. And nothing ever will be.
She wants to scream. She wants to cry. She wants to do anything besides remain silent and let the tension build like a brewing storm.
It feels like swallowing down a dry pill. One of her pills. Bright, vibrant blue. Harsh and out of place sliding down her esophagus, leaving a trail of the taste of manufactured chemicals in her mouth.
You're good....you're fine...
Camila blinks away the tears she was unaware were building. They spill over her, leaving a hot, treacherous trail down her cheeks. She brings trembling hands, to wipe at her face, attempting to hide the evidence from the girl before her. But it's too late.
Lauren is in her space, encroaching upon what little oxygen seems dispersed around her. Camila inhales, but it turns into heaving.
Leave me alone. Please just go. Please please.
"Mila, breathe."
Her head snaps up, and she sees her over Lauren's shoulder. She sees her over Lauren's worried face. She hears her over the frantic voice questioning her.
Dinah steps closer.
"Just breathe. You're good. You're fine."
Camila inhales sharply against Lauren's shoulder, and lets out a shaky exhale. The process repeats until Camila finally feels her breathing come out in steady, even puffs.
"Please," Camila utters out in a trembling voice. "Please – I need to – I want to go home."
.
.
Camila isn't sure what Lauren exactly said to the girls or if she even said anything at all. One minute she's leaning against the sink, silent beside Dinah, and the next they're inside Lauren's car.
The ride back home is silent. The music between them fills in the empty, distant gap that grew after the bathroom. Camila is thankful for it. She's not sure how she could explain what happened. She's not sure she even wants to.
The thought of having to reveal that part of herself fills her with an oncoming sense of dread.
At this point, Lauren is the only person that makes her feel almost normal. Hanging out with her friends – it was almost normal. She behaved almost normally until –
Shame wells up inside of her as she turns to study the side of Lauren's face. Thick eyebrows are pulled together, green eyes dark and focused upon the road ahead. But even from this side profile, half illuminated only from the stereo screen of the car, Camila can see the look on her face.
It's a look that hasn't really left since they've left Alexa's house.
An expression she's not used to, and immediately makes the self-loathing more apparent. Because Lauren isn't reflecting the look people usually do in regard to Camila. It's different.
Not that fragile tea-cup look.
The normal one that equates to people being scared for her.
It's a different one that makes Camila feel like Lauren is scared of her.
They pull up into Lauren's driveway. The front porch light is off, and they're submerged in complete darkness when Lauren turns the keys in the ignition.
She hears Lauren swallow thickly. She hears the nervous breath and the soft sigh fall from her lips. Anticipation floods her system. Because she knows what's coming next. She had anxiously waited for Lauren to question the entire thing from the moment it happened.
Lauren turns to her. Camila can't really see her face, besides the gleam of her eyes. But even that is unreadable.
"It was just the drugs, right?"
It's not what Camila is expecting at all. In fact it's the complete opposite.
Lauren never brushed things away. She was always so straight-forward in her confrontations. She never was one to beat around the bush, nor one to avoid things entirely.
It takes her a moment to realize that she's giving Camila a choice. She's not demanding anything from her, no explanation. In fact she's giving her an easy out.
For some reason, this makes everything all the more worse.
"I'm not..." Camila hesitates; she averts her eyes attempting to focus anywhere besides the darkness engulfing Lauren's face. Her heart sinks.
And then she decides to meet Lauren halfway in the middle ground she put before them.
"I'm not – okay," she murmurs. She hears her voice shake. She feels her throat clog, and her heart pound painfully in her chest. "But I think that you already knew that."
She glances back at Lauren. She is silent, and Camila desperately wishes she can see her face at this point.
"I thought that maybe I could be, because when I'm with you I kind of forget that I'm not fine."
Lauren moves in her seat. Camila catches the outline of her arm moving forward. A click resounds through the confines of the car, and suddenly light filters around them. Lauren's hand moves from the light switch above the rearview mirror and settles down into her lap.
"Camila," she begins, her voice wavering. Green eyes narrow and Camila is almost sure she's going to refute her statement. Or challenge it at the very least. What surprises her is that Lauren falls back to being quiet.
She takes it as a silent encouragement, though the distressed pinch of her eyebrows says otherwise.
Camila swallows thickly.
"What I mean is... don't expect anything from me, from this." She gestures between them. Lauren eyes lower to her moving hand, before meeting her imploring stare. Camila pauses again, struggling to articulate it the right way.
Lauren reaches forward to take her hand, but she brushes it off quickly.
"I'm not the same person," Camila stops, looking away. "I'm never going to be the same person. So don't expect that from me. Don't expect anything from me because I'll let you down."
Camila waits for the argument. She waits for Lauren's willingness to fight for what she believes in. She waits for Lauren to say something against her. It never comes.
Instead she's met with another middle ground.
"I'm not the same person anymore either, Camila."
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A/N: This was the longest chapter I've written. It was completely unintentional btw.
Sorry for taking so long. Was it worth the wait? I hope so.
And Thanks so much for reading! You guys are still hilarious and fabulous and thanks for putting up with my inconsistent updating skills :))))
next chapter: https://vine.co/v/i13qI5bKUOL
Come say hi: handle-with-utmost-care.tumblr.com
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SOMETHING THAT'S BEEN LOWKEY BOTHERING ME: okay so i've noticed my pillowtalk; camren video has been reposted by a shit ton of people and their mothers' and okay i really don't mind. in fact i'm glad a lot of people liked the video enough to download it, and i totally get that some people are reposting bc the song is copyrighted. but what really grinds my gears is that i'm getting no credit for it, no acknowledgment whatsoever, or no link to the actual source of the video? i might be overreacting but i work hard on the things i post up on the internet and to see it somewhere else with absolutely no credit to my YT account kind of feels like stealing. again, i want to stress that i do not mind reposting, but at least give a shout out or something. it feels like a backhanded kind of promo. it also kind of sucks the fun out of sharing stuff. k cool good talk.