A/N: this shit is long omg
also, i like the song with this chapter, idk i feel like it works a little
August 4th, 2006
Lauren's POV
"What the hell is this, Lauren?" my father questioned, roughly grabbing me by the back of my neck and pushing me into the house the second I was within an arm's reach.
"Uh... it looks like a collar?" I wasn't sure if I was supposed to play dumb or not. Probably not, he seemed pissed. Oops.
"Cut the bullshit. Where's the dog?" he leaned into my face, and his breath was a rancid mixture of alcohol and some serious halitosis. I leaned my head back slightly.
"I don't have a dog here. What dog?" I ask, apparently having decided to play dumb.
I feel the sharp sting to my cheek and realize that playing dumb wasn't the right choice.
"Stop fucking playing with me, Lauren Michelle. This isn't a game. Clearly the dog belongs to Cabello. Do you even know who that is?" he was full on yelling now, his hands gripping my collar, almost lifting me off of my feet.
Did he know who Cabello was? Because he seemed to know, and if he knew then maybe I could've saved myself some trouble and just asked him when Denver followed me that night a week and a half ago. But then I probably wouldn't have given him his totally cool new name. Anything was better than 'Princess'. I mean honestly... he's a boy, I just don't get it--
He shook me to get my attention. I can be a bit scatterbrained sometimes.
"No, I don't... I swear, I-I just found him while I was walking and I was trying to figure it out. I have no idea, Dad, you have to believe me," I plead, his knuckles digging uncomfortably into my collarbones.
"Cabello is one of the most respected men in both sides of this town. I don't expect you to fully understand, but here? Veterans get respect. You having his dog and saying nothing about it and making no attempt to return it is the opposite of that," he told me, pushing himself away from me with something akin to disgust.
I catch myself on the banister of the nearby staircase before I could fall, but not without slamming my shoulder and twisting my finger in between two of the spindly balusters. And that hurt like a bitch, let me tell you.
"I didn't know, I didn't know. I didn't mean to disrespect him or anything, I just found a puppy and- and didn't want him to be alone, I've kind of been taking care of him, that's all." I murmur quietly, cradling my probably-sprained left ring finger in my right hand.
He sighed, and I can see some of his anger leaving him, which brings me some relief. It probably means I'm safe from more injury for now.
"Your mother has been taken to the hospital, Lauren. We're going there to meet her in the emergency room," Dad spoke, turning away from me and replacing the beer in his hand with his car keys.
"What? What happened?" I inquire, concerned for my mother who I hadn't seen concerned about me in a long time.
"No. No questions. Come on."
At the time, I didn't really know that you're not supposed to drive if you've been drinking.
——
"Dad, are you gonna call the police?" I ask him, taking off my seatbelt to join him as he exits the vehicle without answering my question. "Are you, Dad?"
"Jesus, just shut up a second!" he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. There's a little blood on his forehead from where he hit his head on the steering wheel. "Obviously I'm not. I'm not trying to get arrested today. It's Saturday; tomorrow, we're returning that dog, and after we'll go see your mother. I can't deal with the car right now, I'm gonna call and have my friend tow it to my garage." Dad's very capable with cars when he's sober, so I don't doubt that he can repair any damage. I nod my acknowledgement, and he continues. "I don't want to see you until tomorrow, so go over to Michele's and out of my hair. I will pick you up tomorrow at 11 sharp. Am I being clear?"
Letting out a quiet huff, I nod again. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now go."
I take one last look at the Acura, and how the front end was currently acquainting itself with a nice and friendly neighborhood tree before I turn and walk in the opposite direction, to Aunt Michele's house.
Lauren: I'm coming over, can you open the back door again?
Austin Mahoe: k
——
"That's a mean ass bruise on your cheek. The hell happened to you?" Austin asks me as I enter the living room and plop down onto the couch.
"I fell down the stairs, definitely sprained my finger," I answer, holding up said injured finger.
"You're just as clumsy as they come, aren't you?" he asks and I nod while laughing convincingly and he joins in, getting up and handing me a controller to the Xbox 360.
"We gonna play MotoGP?" I ask, mentioning the 2006 game that was released just two months ago as I tuck my feet beneath me on the sofa.
"Yeah. Oh! Wait a sec. I'll be right back," Austin called over his shoulder as he jogged out of the room. I look off into the direction he went with my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
When I heard the distinct clack of nails on the hardwood floor, I allowed a genuine smile to stretch across my lips.
Denver was still a bit too small to reach the couch, though he'd noticeably grown in the past twelve days; his paws are up on the edge and he's trying to jump up, so I give him a little push and next he's on my lap and trying desperately to lick at my face.
"Ah, Denver, buddy! Calm down, boy. I'm happy to see you, too!" After a few more seconds, he settles down and rests his head on my thigh as Austin comes back into the room with an easy smile.
"I thought seeing him would make you happier; you seem sad a lot lately. I'm glad you've got him for when you don't talk to your friends or me, I guess." He started to look flustered, so I laughed to ease his tension. I knew that he knew that I was grateful.
"You're right. Denver makes me happy, but- well good things tend to not last."
"What? What are you saying?"
"My dad is picking me up tomorrow at 11... he's taking me to return the puppy to his home. His actual owner. Some guy, apparently everyone but me knows him; his name's Cabello. Ring any bells?"
"Oh! He's the Marine Corps dude! Practically a legend! He went to Iraq in the 90s, the dude is a hero!" Austin gushed, and his hazel green eyes sparkled when he mentioned the USMC.
"So... a veteran. Dad says they get respect."
"LJ, that's like the understatement of the year. Not everyone can make it through boot camp, let alone a war, and like, seeing people die and killing people. I don't know, it's always something I've wanted to do. Enlist, I mean. Not kill people. Girls love the uniform too, so I guess that's a bonus." he mumbled the last part and I rolled my eyes.
"No one is here but me and you. Aunt Michele won't be back until dinner time. You don't have to lie to yourself in front of me. I get it, and it's okay. You're still my cousin and I still love you. I... don't care that you're... y'know."
He expelled a large breath of air and turned to the TV, starting up a race between us and computer controlled motorcyclists. Austin nodded almost imperceptibly and I could've sworn I saw tears in his eyes when he glanced my way for a quick second, muttering "thanks".
For a while after that, we didn't talk much, but it was fine, because we didn't really need to. We were really close when we were kids, but some of us have to grow up sometimes, and so we left the kid stuff behind and now we're mostly awkward around each other. It's not often that you'll hear me tell him that I love him. It goes without saying. He might piss me off and he might act like a shithead, but at the end of the day, he's family.
It's the same with Dad and Mom. Dad might hit me sometimes, and he might drink too much, and Mom might always be high, but I don't doubt that they love me. They got a divorce but continued living together for my sake. Or at least I like to think it's for my sake.
After a few hours of playing Xbox and playing with Denver, I paused the game and stood up from the sofa.
"Where you goin'? I was just about to win!" Austin exclaimed, mildly frustrated.
"You haven't won yet, and it's been three hours. I think that means it's safe to say you would've lost again, pal. So on that note, I'm gonna head next door to Dinah's. I haven't seen her in a little while. Mind watching the puppy? I'd bring him with me but he might get squished by all the little kids."
He sighs dramatically and spreads out on the couch, the controller on the floor long forgotten.
"I'll watch the dog, don't worry. Have fun with Dinah," he says with a wink that I most certainly don't understand.
——
Dinah's little brothers all attack my legs with hugs, and Kamila waves at me from the dining room table [where I assume she's working on a summer vacation project (similar to one that I also have but don't plan on completing)] when I walk in and I smile brightly and wave to Gordon and Milika Hansen, who wave back at me.
"Hi baby, Dinah is up in her room," Milika started, smiling sweetly. I thank her and try to take a slow step without crushing any hands, arms, or feet of the boys surrounding me.
"Boys! Let her go. You have to ask a lady before you can touch her legs." Gordon scolds his sons only to flinch when Milika smacks his arm. I snicker to myself as I creep away, undetected. They don't even seem to mind that I'm here when it's around 9 o'clock at night.
The Hansens are the most family-oriented family I've ever met. There's so many of them, yet no one is ever forgotten. Must be nice.
When I get to Dinah's door, I enter without knocking, and see her looking down at her Motorola D&G RAZR V3i, which she won in a contest. It's the only way she would be able to get the phone, since it was going for about $899, which I think is overpriced for something so... tacky. Or maybe 'flashy' would be a better word; it is Dolce & Gabbana, after all. But it fits Dinah; the girl loves to stand out.
"Who you talking to?" I ask when I'm looking directly over her shoulder.
She flinched so hard, her elbow was probably only centimeters from hitting my eye, and I jerked backwards in an attempt to save my vision.
"Lauren! You scared me, you jerk!" Dinah shouted with a startled glare, and I started to laugh at how flushed she was, and she had no choice but to join in, and suddenly we were both just laughing loudly. I admit, it felt really good.
"I couldn't resist, sorry. But for real, who are you messaging?"
"These two girls from rec. They're older, but they're really nice. I wish there was a way for us all to talk at once, like as a group. It would be so much simpler than having to two separate sets of messages every time," she rolled her eyes, but immediately went back to smiling down at her phone's screen.
"Anyone I know? I know I never played softball recreationally, but some of them are on the school team, too."
"No, I don't think so... They're Ally and Normani... they go to West Side. Ally's gonna be a sophomore and Mani is starting freshman year, like you," Dinah tells me, and I don't fail to notice the way her cheeks darken when she says "Mani". Hmmm.
"Oh so you've known them the entire summer? How come you never mentioned them before?" I question.
"I've mentioned Ally, she bakes things for our games... it's heavenly!" Dinah says, nearly moaning. I roll my eyes at this. I do a lot of eye-rolling.
"Okay, but what about Mani, huh, DJ? I don't believe you've mentioned her before. And I know on the days you're not here or at practice your parents have told me you bike across town. Does my little baby Dinah Jane have a crush?" I ask in the most teasing voice I can muster, snickering when her scarlet cheeks give her away completely without her having to say a word.
"Sh-shut up, Lauser! I'm gonna kick your assets if you say anything to anyone! She's really cool and she doesn't care that I'm 12, she's a great friend to me, like you, but it's different. I don't know. She's cool, and if you tell my parents, they'll scare her away. You know my parents think they're so rad but they're just... not?"
"Totally. I won't say a word. Well, maybe to Logan or Austin." I reply, and at Dinah's sheepish look, I raise my eyebrows. "They know already, don't they?"
"I promise I was gonna tell you, Lolo. I was just waiting for the right time. You know you're my bestest friend," she says apologetically, and I shake my head, and she frowns.
"You know what this means, right?" I ask her, my face expressionless, watching her frown deepen as her eyebrows stitch together.
"...No?"
"It means, next time you take a trip across town, I'm going with you. I gotta meet the girl who's stealing my best friend away," I say with a good-natured smile, and she squeals and crushes me with a bear hug, her phone long-forgotten on her duvet.
I only stay over for a couple hours after that, listening to Dinah talk my ear off with 'Mani this' and 'Mani that'. I felt like I knew the girl already and I'd never even met her yet. Well, whenever I do meet her, I'm sure it'll be interesting, at least.
——
August 5th, 2006
It was almost 11 am, and I was sat in the living room wearing my school's sweatshirt - in the middle of summer - to hide the bruises. I don't want to answer any questions. I'm there with Austin and Aunt Michele as Denver slept on the floor in the middle of the scratchy rug.
"So, this dog was here for almost two weeks and I had no idea?" She questioned, looking from Austin to me, and back again.
"Um, well-" Austin started, but I cut him off.
"It was my idea to hide him here from my dad, Austin kept telling me that I should tell you and my dad about it, but I didn't want Denver to be taken away, so I didn't tell. It's not Austin's fault, it's all me." I say, my voice growing smaller as I went on, and I looked down to the puppy on the floor. As the silence stretched on, I looked up slowly.
There was a calm smile on my aunt's face, and I tilted my head in confusion.
"I'm not angry with you. If you had told me from the start, I would've allowed this. Next time, just talk to me. You both know you can. I won't yell at you without hearing what you have to say and reasonably thinking things through." she tells me, reminding me of why she's definitely my favorite - yet only - aunt.
"Okay. I'm sorry. Next time, I'll talk to you, promise."
"Yeah, promise," Austin says, and I look down in my phone in horror, realizing it was 11:02.
I leap up from my position and scoop up Denver, who yelps in surprise, and dash out the front door, throwing a quick "sorry, gotta go, bye!" over my shoulder.
——
I rushed outside and stopped in shock when I saw what car my Dad had driven here in. I had only been allowed in the blacked-out 2005 Lamborghini Murcielago once, and that was to my grandfather's funeral. Funny enough, it was with the money my granddad left for my college that my dad used to buy it. The money was for me and any other children my parents might've had, but I guess they changed their minds.
Maybe Dad wasn't still angry about yesterday, and hopefully her wouldn't be too angry about me being late. I figured he must be in a good mood if he brought out the Murci and is letting me bring the dog in it. It was either that, or he was really trying to impress Mr. Cabello. I'm sure the latter is closer to his actual logic.
I quickly recovered from my shock and dashed up to the car, gently opening the door and carefully taking my seat and gingerly shutting the door with Denver perched on my lap.
"Dad, I'm really sorry I'm late, I was just talking to-"
"I don't care, it's fine. I knew you'd be late anyway. You never do anything right, so I don't know why I bother with you," he said, resignedly, which I think is worse than when he's screaming at me until he's blue in the face. Nothing like fresh disappointment on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.
"We're going to see mom after this, right?" I ask, and receive a nod in return as he peels away from the curb.
"So why didn't we go drop off Denver earlier? Like in the morning?"
"Easy and simple answer. The Cabellos are good people. And good people go to church on Sundays, and praise God so they don't go to hell. And before you say anything, we're not good people. Going to church wouldn't help us; we're too far gone, and I don't think even Jesus could save us. Returning this dog is the least I could do.
"I actually had the pleasure of speaking to him on the phone last night before you decided to come back home, and he told me it was okay to drop off the dog after 11:30, after the morning service had concluded. We'll be there in a few minutes," Dad explained, and with that, he turned up the radio as if to say 'we're done talking'. So I just sat there, feeling so many things I couldn't even describe, and one of them was anger, and the anger was going on unexpressed, and it threatened to bring tears of frustration to my eyes. I blinked them away and rolled my eyes in annoyance. Closing my eyes and petting Denver's soft fur, I allowed myself to venture into my mind until we arrived.
—
And when we did arrive, it was around 11:45, and the house was very nice, but on the west side, people had more money, so it only made sense. The area looked safer, too. Miami had the kind of police department that was more inclined to patrol the west side and responded faster to calls there. I'm not bitter, I just notice things. Hell, we're not good people was still playing in my mind on a loop. I wasn't sure if i'd ever understand why he treated me like this.
It didn't matter. What I was focusing on now, was trying not to cry because my constant, my guaranteed daily source of happiness was going away to brighten someone else's day; someone who deserves it more, I guess, because Denver - or Princess - was never my dog to begin with. I wasn't mad at the Cabellos, I was just mad at myself, for getting so attached when I knew this would happen.
My continued frustration caused me to slam the door harder than I intended to, and I inwardly gulped and cursed myself because I knew there'd be hell to pay for that later on, at home, where there would be no witnesses.
"Don't slam the fucking door. Are you gonna pay for this shit to get fixed after you've broken it?" It was a rhetorical question, don't be a smart ass and answer it. Save yourself.
My dad rang the doorbell after he and I had made the trip up the long walkway. About 22 seconds later (I count things. Numbers, time - usually time - because not knowing how much has passed gives me anxiety. It's hard to explain) a man answers the door. He stands shorter than my father, but the most notable difference between the two to me, is that the man's face holds a warm and genuine smile, while my father's bears thinly masked irritation. I inspect his features and realize that yes, I've seen him before, on the local news, and also around town. When I was in middle school softball, practices were at the high school, and I remember seeing him there a few times, talking to the older kids. I can't remember why, though.
"Master Sergeant Cabello. Pleasure to finally meet you in person. I've heard wonderful things." My father speaks in a polite and almost cheerful tone that sounds completely foreign to me as he extends his hand.
The man takes my father's hand and gives it a couple of firm shakes before letting go. "Please, just call me Alejandro. Formalities aren't necessary; I'm not formal when I'm not in uniform. Michael, the pleasure is all mine. Might I ask who this beautiful young lady is?" Alejandro Cabello asks my father, though I know the question is directed at me, and I blush.
"I'm Lauren. Hi..." I try not to mumble, but when I'm meeting new people, my voice is too low, my pulse is too fast, my throat is too dry and I just end up feeling socially inept.
"Hi sweetie, it's very nice to meet you. Your Dad told me that you found my daughter's puppy, hmm?"
I nod, still unable to say my more, and I hear the damn sigh of disappointment from my father, and for some reason, I don't care.
"I'd like to thank you for that. She was very sad when he ran away, but she'll be so excited to see him again, and thankful as well," he shares, excusing himself for a few moments to go and fetch his daughter, who he said was 11 or 12. I couldn't remember.
"You are an embarrassment to me, I hope you know that. Why is it so hard for you to just fucking speak? You had no problems running your mouth and talking back last night. You need to realize your place, and start being more respectful if you know what's good for you..." He keeps muttering, and I feel so much anger and resentment towards him bubbling up in this moment, and I feel like I might be reaching my breaking point for today, but all thoughts leave my mind when Mr. Cabello reappears with a girl.
"Michael, Lauren, this is my oldest daughter, Camila. Mila, honey, these are the nice people who found your puppy and took care of him for us." He explains softly as he strokes her brown hair that looks well-groomed and silky.
"Thank you," her voice is small, but strong, with a light rasp that warms something in me. She's cute.
Meanwhile, Denver is squirming a little, and my Dad hits my sore shoulder "good-naturedly" (insert eye roll) and I flinch noticeably, and Mr. Cabello meets my eyes for a quick second. My eyes immediately find the ground very interesting.
"Don't just stand there, Laur. Give her the dog." I stumble forward like the klutz I am, again, ignoring the anger. He had no right to call me Laur. That name is strictly reserved for the memories of when things were good. And they weren't anymore. Hadn't been for a while.
I sat him down on the ground, and Denver stands on my foot with one paw, while stretching his body forward as much as he can to sniff Camila, who had began inching closer.
"Hey, Michael, I know you've just met me today, but I can watch over Lauren today while you.. take care of the things you were telling me about yesterday evening over the phone." Alejandro offers, and my head shoots up and I look at my dad.
"But Dad, you said we were going to-"
"Oh, thank you so much, Alejandro. I'm going to take you up on that offer, but I'll try to be back by 5 tonight," he explains, already starting to back away, and I clench my jaw.
"No problem, whenever is fine. I can tell Lauren's a good kid." My expression softens a bit at that, and I look up at Alejandro.
My father chooses to ignore the compliment about me and thanks him a few more times before leaving. I have no idea where, though wherever it is, it's without me. And I'm glad.
With the other adult gone, Camila seems to open up more, and Alejandro says a few welcoming words to me and tells us to come inside whenever we're ready and leaves the front door open and closing the screen door.
"Thanks for finding Princess. I thought I wasn't going to see him again." she says gratefully, and I nod and smile a little. I don't think it reaches my eyes.
"Camila is your name, right?" I ask.
"Yup."
"Cool. My best friend's little sister is named that, too."
"That's so cool!" her smile is radiant, though crooked, and the realness, the authenticity of both her and her father are enough to make me look past my father and his many shortcomings. For now.
"Camila?"
"Yeah?"
"Why did you name your male dog 'Princess'? I'm not judging you or anything," I was totally judging her. "But I'm just curious."
"I lost a bet..." she mutters lowly with a cute eye roll. I let out a chuckle.
"What was the bet?"
"My best friends bet that I couldn't eat 10 bananas in one sitting. I bet that I could. I lost. I didn't tell my mom or dad though, they'd never let me live it down. So I just pretended I liked the name a lot," she explains to me with a giggle, and I burst into laughter, because that bet was the silliest thing ever, but it was brilliant, Princess was such a bad name!
"That sucks so much, oh my gosh... well, when I found him, I was walking and thinking... so I may or may not have changed his name... kind of," I tell her, now feeling fairly comfortable around her and her friendly and approachable aura. She's sitting on the steps now, petting him with one hand. With the other hand, she pats the space next to Denver, and I sit down, the dog in between us.
"Anything would beat Princess, honestly. Princess has to stay his official name, but whatever you picked could be his official nickname. That's fair, right?"
I smiled again and nodded. "I called him Denver. It would take me a while to explain how I came up with that name though... maybe I can explain it to you another time... Do you have a phone?" I ask somewhat nervously, twisting my fingers together and successfully injuring my already injured finger and whimpering quietly.
"Are you okay?" she asks, looking over Denver to see my hands.
"Yeah I just-"
"It's really swollen, you should ice it! My Mom can help, lets go inside!" the smaller girl exclaimed, grabbing my uninjured hand with her small and warm one, standing up. Denver stood up too, curiously watching our movements.
"Princess, go inside," Camila says, holding open the screen door. He stays there, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side. She sighs quietly with frustration, and I giggle a little bit and regretfully remove my hand from hers to snap my fingers.
As expected, I have Denver's full attention now, and he watches my closely. "Go inside, Denver," I point towards the opening, and he cautiously and carefully enters, Camila grabbing my hand again and leading me, Denver deciding to follow the both of us.
"He really likes you... and he listens to you."
"Well, I could help him listen to you, it's really simple. But you never answered my question," I tell her as we walk down a long hallway lined with family pictures, each one - besides wedding photos - containing a young, bright-eyed and brightly-smiling brunette. I find her smile contagious and find myself doing it more today than I had in a few weeks. It feels really good.
"Wait, what question?"
"I asked if you had a phone. You know, so I could get your number and, I don't know, we could message each other and I could give you tips with Denver and stuff." I hope my cheeks aren't as red as I think they are right now.
She frowns, so naturally, I do as well. "I don't. My parents say I have to wait until I'm 13. I have a landline... I think maybe I could talk to you from my best friend's phone, maybe. I've never had anyone to message before, so I don't think she would mind..."
"I could write down my number for you, then?" I offer, and she nods, the bright smile returning, and so my own smile also decides to make a reappearance.
"Yeah! Yay! Oh, but first, my mom has to look at your finger!" She remembered suddenly, dashing off and dragging me with her, startling Denver into running also.
I'm led into a kitchen that is beautifully finished and clean, and see a short woman with blonde hair and glasses feeding apple sauce to a baby.
"Hi," I say, not quite as nervous as before without my father around.
"Hi, honey... my husband told me about you. I'm Sinu. Thank you for finding mi hija's puppy. We were worrying we would never get him back," she tells me sweetly, and I feel bad for being selfish and keeping him for as long as I did. We're not good people.
"Mami, Lauren hurt her finger, can you look at it?" Camila asked with a cute pout playing on her lips.
"I work in an office, not a hospital, but I think it's safe to say that you'll live, miel," she said softly after 'inspecting' my finger. I laugh at this, I don't know why, and Sinu smiles largely at me, surprising me completely by placing a gentle kiss on my finger. My eyes get misty at the maternal gesture and I blink rapidly to clear up my vision.
"Thank you, Sinu. I appreciate it," I say as politely as I can, trying to prove to myself and my father that I'm better than he thinks I am. We're not good people.
"You're welcome, baby. Speaking of babies, this is Sofia, or Sofi. She's halfway between one and two years old. She doesn't talk yet, but she screeches sometimes. I'm very surprised she was quiet for so long. I guess she likes you!" I smile and jokingly extend my hand to Sofi, who grabs my right hand's fingers and tries to suck on them. I evade her mouth, as my hand isn't clean enough for a toddler, and rub her hair gently. I wonder if this is what Camila's hair feels like.
Sofi giggles and babbles, waving her fist. Soon enough, Sinu tells us to go play until my father returns, and we agree, but not before I thank her again for the little baggie of ice she gave me for my finger.
"I'll show you my room, I guess. I hope you don't mind... I have a lot of Backstreet Boys and NSYNC posters," her expression is sheepish as we approach her door.
"No way, I love them! Don't worry, I'm not judging you," This time, I totally wasn't.
We went inside and she gave me a little tour, most of which was spent near the posters on the wall, the bookshelf, and her old mahogany desk.
"This desk is my favorite; I take lots of pictures, and when they develop, I put them here, in all of these different albums," she's explaining this to me, and she looks so happy, and it's way too soon, but hell, it makes me so happy, too.
"You wanna be a photographer?" I ask as I'm looking through the pictures. "Because you should... these are all amazing, Camila, just... wow." I'm genuinely impressed because I've always had a love for art, and these pictures capture so much more than scenery, a smile, or color. It captures feelings, and now more than recently, I can appreciate that.
She blushes and ducks her head, her face becoming hidden by a curtain of pretty brown hair.
"Thank you. I know it's not much, and I'm only 12, basically, but I can only get better from here."
"That's right. Don't be modest, you've got real talent here," I tell her, my eyes wide and earnest. It's then that I notice the camera that had been hanging around her neck the entire time. The entire several hours I had spent here at her house, feeling so at home and so at ease. But most good things don't last.
My phone rings, and I see the time is 3:30 pm. It's Dad. I guess he finished doing whatever sooner than he thought he would.
"Hello?"
"I'm outside. Thank Alejandro and his wife for being hospitable and come get in the car. You hear me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." And with that, he hangs up the phone. I notice Camila's sad expression, and I can't help but to mirror it at this point.
"You have to go?"
"Yeah... my dad's outside waiting," I'm even surprised by the amount of dejection in my voice.
"I'll walk you out." I nod, following her, thankful that Denver had fallen into a deep sleep and didn't hear me leave as I took one last lingering glance.
Both Sinu and Alejandro were in the kitchen playing with Sofi and dancing around when we entered.
"Lauren's dad is here, she has to go," Camila mumbles, and it pains me to hear her sound so sad. Her hand tucks into mine while I'm thanking her parents, who walk me to the door, Camila at my side.
"You're welcome back here, whenever, miel. Anytime."
"Thanks, Sinu. And Alejandro. Bye everyone," I say slowly, turning to leave, when Camila steps forward, grabbing the shoulder I bruised, but I don't flinch this time.
"Wait! Can I... take a picture of you?" she asks in a voice shyer than the one I heard from her earlier.
My whole face softens, and it's all that I can do to keep from saying 'awww'. With an easy slight smile, I nod a bit.
I watch her rather than looking into the camera's lens, and her face contorts in concentration, and my smile broadens as the flash goes off.
As the picture comes out of the old camera, she shakes it and eventually looks at it with a smile.
"Can I see?"
"Not today... maybe when you come back?"
"Okay. Then I won't look at it, just... let me write on the back of it," I offer, pulling out a sharpie as she hands me the polaroid. I scribble down my number and my name, and smile shyly, waving as I finally leave and end back up in the car with my dad.
The second he opens his mouth, I feel the damper he's put on my mood. The rest of the day can only go downhill from here.
"Hopefully you weren't too much of a burden today."
I ignore the unnecessary comment. "Where did you go, Dad?"
"To the hospital, to see your mom. They released her after pumping her stomach. She had overdosed on pills. A good person wouldn't do this. It's just like what I said earlier; we're not good people."
————
A/N: okay this was over 6k words, i don't even know what just happened. holy fuck.
mike is an asshole
clara is... idk??
so camren finally met
some stuff with austin
NORMINAH STRONG (kind of. it's the early stages.)
(btw
)
i wonder if you all have noticed, but laurens thoughts are all over the place. that's not really intentional. it's just the way i think. basically, everything here is a reflection (😒) of my life in some way. um
i love y'all and i hope you're doing well and if not, i hope it gets better and i'm here for ya
anyways, lol was this long ass chapter worth it? (😒😒)
uh
long ass A/N part 5
um um um i have to wake up for work in three hours 🤔🤔
this is the life life life this is the life life life
stay frosty because i am confusing myself rn,
—Courtney