CAMILA
11:47 PM
I miss two turns on the way home. I make it back in a daze and everything about me feels numb and heavy at the same time. I try to push away the memory of Lauren kissing me, of me wanting to fall into her, of me kissing back. It's hard when I can still feel her lips on mine if I close my eyes long enough. A couple minutes pass before I realize I'm already parked in my driveway and it takes a lot for me to finally get out of the car.
I don't notice the light is on from outside and it doesn't register that my dad has been waiting for me at the kitchen table until his voice breaks through the harsh silence of the house.
"Mija, you're already back?"
I shrug. "I said I would leave a little bit after you and I did. And now I'm home and wanting to sleep."
I hope that my clipped tone makes it clear to my dad that I don't want to continue this conversation. He's always insisted on ignoring things like that.
"So you and Lauren didn't..." there's an almost wishful lilt to his voice and it grates my nerves. It shouldn't, and I know that. But it does anyways.
"Didn't what? Didn't ride off into the night after buying into the idea of being together forever? No, can't say that we did." My tone is sarcastic and straight up bitchy but I can't bring myself to take it back. He just sighs, leaning back in his chair. A few moments pass before he responds.
"I didn't want to push it before because we both knew the chances of you finding Lauren were so small, it was a non-issue. But now, things are different-"
"Nothing's different. Things aren't changing. Her and I won't be together."
"Honestly, mija you're being silly," he admonishes.
"You think it's silly that I don't want to be a shell of a person-"
"That's not going to happen-"
"It's what happened to you!"
My outburst is loud and unforgiving and everything I don't mean to be. There's silence and there's parts of me that want to reach out and take back each word I've said because today has been too much and so have I. My dad takes my words as a slap to the face and the way he looks pained almost makes me wish I didn't mean what I said. But I do- and I know that it comes from an angry place in my heart where I'm fifteen again and resent my dad for making me feel like I wasn't enough reason to try really living again.
I clench my jaw and my eyes are set because I've done too much already to back down. We're left staring at each other while my dad seems to consider his next words carefully.
"Losing Sinu took a very large on toll on me," he starts slowly. I bite my tongue and resist the urge to roll my eyes because it took a pretty huge fucking toll on me too. "She was one of the most important people in my life."
"She wasn't the only person in your life, papi!" I had thought I was all cried out until there's a familiar sting in my eyes as they brim with tears and I know I don't need to but I raise my voice anyways because I can't stop myself.
"I was here! I was here asking all the babysitters when you would get home while you buried yourself in your work so you didn't have to come back to an empty bed. I was here needing someone to tell me how to handle my first day of highschool, and how to study for exams, and what to do when your friends don't understand what the fuck it's like to lose your mom. I was here when Sofi learned to walk and talk and when she learned to read. And then when she started school and when she got invited to her first slumber party and the first time she realized other kids are mean. I was here for all of it!"
My voice is hoarse and it cracks at the end and it's a lot like how the rest of me feels. I angrily wipe away at the tears that stream down my face and they're immediately replaced by more. A choked sob makes it past my lips and I hate how much I've heard that today.
"I- I didn't realize," my dad stutters with shock evident on his face as if this is the first time he's seeing me. "I know things were hard for you too, but I didn't know it was anything like that."
I can only scoff.
"You always told me you'd take more hours at work so you can provide better for me and Sof." I sadly shake my head at the memories of asking my dad why he was always so busy.
"Yeah you'd make time to tuck us in and maybe have breakfast with us but you didn't stay long, always 'needed more hours.' You provided just fine, we weren't tight on money and you knew that." I let out a shaky breath, my voice small and broken.
"I just needed you to be there."
He makes a move to stand and I flinch, taking a step back.
"Don't," I say softly. "Please just...don't."
"Mija please," he tries.
"No," I tell him firmly, disregarding how out of control I feel. "You wanna tell me how you're sorry? Probably wanna tell me how I don't get it and how I couldn't really understand. Fine, I forgive you. But don't give me that cop out- that there's no way I could understand. Because losing mami ended up with me losing you too." I swallow thickly as I try not to grit my teeth.
"And that is something I know you couldn't really understand."
A voice in the back of my mind is cursing at me, disappointed and furious at how I handled this. It insists that I apologize but I really don't want to. Instead I turn to the stairs because I'm suffocating between every word that's settled in the air between me and my dad.
When I reach my old room my eyes wander over the walls, taking in all the posters and the pictures pinned up. I remember every attempt I made to take down the pictures of my mom because it hurt too much to see her be reduced to a corner of a corkboard and a few frames in my room. But it hurt more to take them down, seemingly not caring to put in the effort in remembering her.
I take a deep breath, flexing my fingers as I tell myself not to rip down everything on this wall. Then I count to ten when anger starts to well up inside me and my hands turn into fists, mulling over the idea of punching anything. So much time was spent making up excuses for my dad because I could see how devastated he was. Everything he did was so that he didn't have to think about the wife he lost.
Bitterly I wonder how often he thought about the daughters he still had.
With a frustrated groan, I run my hands through my hair when my fingers start to dig too hard into my palms. I hear footsteps come up the stairs and grow anxious when they seem to reach my door, tensing when I anticipate the knock.
It doesn't come.
There's a flash of guilt that's overcome with relief when I hear the footsteps walk away and I let my body relax. Communication is always important, but I know I've said enough today. I try not to dwell on any of what I said, not wanting to face the reality of everything having hit the fan.
Everything from the day seems to catch up to my body and I'm suddenly feeling exhausted, my body heavy and my movement slow. I throw myself onto the bed and let my eyes drift close, hoping for a peaceful night's sleep to end the shit show of a day I've had.
--
3:10 AM
My exhaustion doesn't help in getting me any real rest as I'm tossing and turning in bed after having woken up a second time already. I reach for my phone and groan when I notice the time, giving up on the thought that I could get any sleep tonight. With an aggravated sigh I quietly walk out of my room, careful not to make any noise as I descend the stairs.
I pour myself a glass of water despite being not at all thirsty. My eyelids feel heavy and if I allow them to stay closed for long enough I can almost feel Lauren's lips on mine again. And if I keep them closed for even longer I can remember the look of desperation on her face as I pulled away. If my mind listens hard enough I can even hear the way her voice breaks as she tries to convince me to stay.
Something wet slides down my face and when my fingertips touch my cheek is when I realized I've started crying. A moment after is when I register that my heart hurts and my body aches. I don't let myself listen to my thoughts because they all call for Lauren.
"Kaki?"
My eyes dart open and my head whips around to the doorway to find Sofi in her pajamas and wrapped in her favorite blanket. Hastily, I wipe away at my tears with the back of my hand and attempt to play it off.
"Hey nena," I cringe at how hoarse my voice sounds. "What are you doing up?"
She shrugs before taking a seat at the table. "I couldn't sleep so I went to your room but you weren't there. I thought you left."
Her voice is so small and there's a pang in my chest in knowing she'd think I would leave.
"I didn't mean to worry you Sofi, I just couldn't sleep either and I thought drinking some water might have helped."
"You didn't drink any of it though."
I quickly look down at my still full glass and falter before turning back to her. "Why can't you seem to sleep?"
Sofi seems apprehensive to tell me, no longer looking at me, her eyes instead focused on her hands as she fidgets with her blanket. She offers me a weak shrug and remains quiet. I'm crouching next to her after a few quick strides and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Sofi, baby. What's wrong?"
She turns to face me and her lips quiver while her eyes look so...scared?
"Do you hate dad?" Her words are barely above a whisper but they nearly knock me to the floor anyways. My jaw drops and I can only stare at her for a few moments. I sigh in destination when I begin to understand what's going on.
"You heard all of that between me and him, huh?"
Sofi gives me a small nod.
"I heard your car pull up and when you came in, I wanted to ask you how the party went but then you and dad started talking," she averts her gaze from me back to her hands, seeming unsure on if she should continue. Her hands fidgeting with the blanket again.
"I stayed by the stairs and listened."
"It's not good to eavesdrop, Sof," I tell her softly, holding no weight to the scolding. Guilt washes over me when I consider what everything looks like to her. I watch as her lip quivers and her hands fiddle with her blanket even more. I reach up to gently turn her face towards me, my features softening when I see tears brimming in her eyes.
"I don't hate dad, Sofi. I just-" I pause as I struggle for what to say. I inhale deeply and consider my words carefully. "I've been angry. And I've been angry for a really long time, as much as I wanted to say I wasn't."
"Angry at papi?"
"Yeah, angry at papi." What I say is honest but does nothing to make me feel better when I know that they're not what my sister wants to hear. Instinctively, I stroke her cheek with my thumb in attempt to soften the blow of my words.
"He didn't mean to do all those things. He was hurting," Sofi's voice holds remorse that she has no place taking responsibility for.
I mean to assure her that I understand that he was hurting. Instead I say "I was hurting too."
I let my hand fall to my side, no longer holding her face as realization dawns on her.
"Because you lost mami too," she whispers with conviction and I think she finally gets it. There are tears in my eyes again and I don't bother wiping away at them when they fall.
"Yeah," I croak out. "I lost mami too."
Small arms encircle me and I almost fall, still crouching next to Sofi as she hugs me. I wrap my own arms around her, holding her tight as I try to stop both of our crying.
"It's okay, Sof. You don't have to cry about it. Me and papi are going to be okay, we'll figure things out. It's probably about time I stop being angry him, honestly." I feel her nod and pull back to wipe away at the wet streaks on her face.
"Is this why you won't be with Lauren? Because you're angry with papi still?"
My whole body stiffens and I clench my jaw, caught off guard with the direction this conversation took. "Nena, It's a little more complicated than that."
"How is it complicated?"
A mix of annoyance and guilt addle my mind and I take a moment to respond and untangle our limbs to look at Sofi fully. "I just think it's a little more than you'd understand."
The younger girl completely throws me off when her features suddenly take on a look of anger. "What's there to not understand, Kaki? You act like you don't want to be with Lauren so you don't risk losing her the way dad lost mami. But that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"
It seems that she's regained her voice, all softness totally gone.
"Excuse me?" I'm too taken aback to come up with anything better.
"It's stupid, Kaki and you know it! You're being a dumbass about this."
My eyes widen at her outburst while my jaw drops.
"Language, Sofia." I say through gritted teeth, doing my best to remain patient with this tantrum my sister seems to be having.
"Fine," she says defiantly. "Creo que eres una pendeja."
I cannot believe-
I'm suddenly standing, shocked at the nerve my sister has in saying these things to me.
"What the fuck, Sofi?" I don't mind my own word choice because it's clearly nothing she hasn't already heard. "Where is all of this coming from?"
"I'm just trying to help you be happy!"
"Then you're not understanding what would make me happy because I seem to keep having to have this conversation."
"Lauren could make you happy though," she insists.
"You're missing the point-"
"What point? That you don't want to end up losing her the way dad lost mami? Isn't this the same thing? You know she's here and you're choosing not to be with her. You already lost her."
I take a step back, stunned silent at the words that she's throwing in my face.
"We learned about this in language arts," Sofi presses forward. "You're ending up exactly where you didn't want to be, what you've been trying to avoid for so long. It's called irony."
Staring with my mouth hanging open is all I seem to be able to do with no idea of how I'm supposed to respond to any of this. Later when I get over myself, I'll realize that she's right and that she's a lot smarter than anyone gives her credit for. I'm not ready to admit any of this though, instead my mind lashes out and I refuse to give up on the idea that I don't want Lauren in my life.
There's a beat of silence between us and I'm mentally wishing that this could be the end, that I'm finally done talking about this.
"Mami would have at least wanted you to try," Sofi adds quietly, tentatively, like she's not sure she should've said that.
If I weren't so emotionally charged, it would've been exactly what I needed to hear. But right now I'm reeling at everything else Sofi's said to me, indignant and disbelieving of every single thing she's said because she's right and she definitely should not have finished it all off with that.
With no more fight left in me, I turn on my heel and leave Sofi in the kitchen as I head for the stairs. I want to stomp my feet and I want to scream and I want to be angry. But it's late and I'm tired from fighting with Sofi, and fighting with my dad, and fighting with Lauren. I think most of all I'm tired of fighting with myself as I constantly deny myself of every opportunity to be okay.
Angrily, I run my hands through my hair, tugging a bit as I try to calm my breathing. I stopped paying attention to the tears that stream down my face, instead putting all my effort in just making it to my room, making sure to lock my door. I curl up in bed and I let my soft sobs lull me to sleep.
--
I remember starting school after we moved to the states. Excitement poured out of my tiny body as I practically bounced off the walls because everything was so new and it all seemed so nice and I believed my mom every morning when she said I'd have a great day before kissing the top of my head and waving at me as the bus took me to school.
I was six years old, my English wasn't the best and my accent was still so thick.
At six years old, I didn't consider what going to a school with so many...gringos would have meant for me. I hadn't realized how mean other kids could be when they didn't understand you or how small you could feel when you were left out because you couldn't speak well enough to include yourself.
The second of week of school I refused to go, staying under the covers and preparing what to say to my mom when she asked me what I was still doing in bed.
"Los niños en mi clase...son groseros," I had told her, struggling to get the words out as tears formed in my eyes along with a lump in my throat.
It took a few tries to finally admit to my mom "the kids at school make fun of me. I'm not as smart as them. My english isn't good enough." Looking back on it I realize how easy it was for me to translate all of those things to mean that I wasn't good enough and I understand now why my mom reacted so strongly.
"It is not your fault they can't understand you! They're not any smarter just because they can only speak to themselves. You are smart enough to understand me and them. Maybe sometimes you have to try a little harder but they are not better than you."
I wiped away at my tears and nodded my head, unable to say anything else.
"They are small minded. Do not let that convince you that you are small."
A tiny nod was all I gave in response.
"You won't always be number one, but I always want you to try. Okay, mija?"
"Yes mami," I sniffled, my voice still small.
"Lo prometes?"
"Lo prometo."
I remember when my mom was three weeks away from her due date and for my birthday I asked her to teach me how to be a good big sister. I had just turned 11 and I foolishly worried about being too grown up for my soon-to-arrive baby sister. (I haven't completely grown out of my childishness so you can see how that was a foolish thought.)
"Mami, what if she doesn't like me?" I had fussed before another thought had struck me and I gasp.
"Mami what if I don't like her!" She laughed loudly with crinkles in her eyes, smiling even harder when she noticed the all too serious look on my face.
"Baby, you just asked me to teach you how to be a good sister. You already love her. I promise it won't be hard."
"How do you know? What if I mess up and she hates me!?"
I remember my mom giving a look to my dad who watched us from the doorway and I still wonder what it meant.
"Wanna know a secret?" I nodded eagerly and leaned in really close so she could whisper to me.
"You're going to mess up- in everything. And it's okay to mess up sometimes so long as you learn from it. You have to always try and do good, okay?"
"Kay," I said quietly.
"So you're going to always try and be a good sister, right Karla?"
"Yes mami," I agreed dutifully.
"Lo prometes?"
"Lo prometo."
I remember being nine years old and asking my mom if it's okay that I like girls. Her and dad have known my tattoo says Lauren and they've never asked about it. I wasn't sure if people just didn't talk about it or if they didn't want to acknowledge it. So I asked.
"Is it okay that my person is Lauren?"
I could tell my question didn't make sense to my mom because she looked at me for a long time. Maybe it just seemed really long at the time.
"Of course it's fine, baby. Why wouldn't it be?"
"BecauseLaurenisagirl." I breathed out and I can remember how my voice trembled and I couldn't look her in the eye. My mom simply reached over and brought me into her arms, holding me close and kissing the top of my head. There wasn't any reason to cry, but I teared up anyways.
"And all of your friends in school have boys as their person?"
I only nodded, having hid my face as I hugged her back.
"Mija, listen. You don't choose who you love. There is nothing wrong with yours being Lauren and don't let anyone convince you otherwise." She had said it with such conviction and held me so tight, I questioned what I worried about in the first place.
"Are Lauren's parents okay that I'm her person?"
My mom just kissed my head again. "The universe chose her for you. And the universe isn't wrong. So Lauren being a girl doesn't make her being your person wrong."
I recall how securely my mom held onto me and how my tiny arms wrapped tightly around her to stay close, hoping her embrace would squeeze out the rest of my insecurities.
It didn't. And suddenly I'm asking her
"Do you think I'm right for Lauren?" My words were muffled as they got lost in my mother's shirt, but she pulled back to look me in the eye. I knew she knew what I meant. It wasn't about me and Lauren both being girls anymore, it was about me being enough for Lauren. At nine years old it was too early for me to worry about things like that but that unfortunately didn't stop me.
"Do you want to be?" my mom asked me simply, as if that was the only thing that could get in the way of anything.
I nodded furiously, my mouth having formed a thin line in determination. She just smiled back at me and brushed my hair behind my ear with her hand. I remember how soft her voice was and how sure she was of what she said.
"Well you're already doing a pretty good job considering you're her person and everything," she teasingly pinched my cheek and gave me an encouraging smile. It made me giggle and eased the tension in my small body.
"You won't believe how easy it is, though," she continued. "All you have to do is just try."
"Try what?"
"Try to be right for her. So long as you're always trying, then you'll be right for her."
The reassuring smile my mother gave me was almost convincing enough to have me think that maybe it was actually that easy. But I was sure that there had to be more to it, that there was still a secret to figure out.
All I managed to say was a soft 'okay.'
"Lo prometes?"
"Lo prometo."
With a sigh I pull myself out of my thoughts and finally get out of bed, stretching and groaning as I prepare all of the apologies I'll be doling out today.
--
LAUREN
11:47 AM
Vero Iglesias is one of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. And I really, truly mean that.
I would also like to strangle her. And I really, truly mean that.
She lasted about three days before breaking like a dam, talking nonstop about Lucy. Camila had introduced them with a not at all suspicious intro line of "Hey Lucy, Vero was super interested in your thesis about the negative environmental effects of the patriarchy. You two would probably be great friends."
Vero specifically held off on bringing up anything soulmate related, not wanting to have that conversation with Lucy over text. Instead, she's already setting aside money to fly up to North Carolina to visit Lucy at university. And I promise, I'm happy for her. But at the same time she sucks because she literally found her soulmate through mine yet I'm not even on speaking terms with Camila.
But now it's been 6 days since the disastrous run-in with Camila at my parents' holiday party and of course, she's all I can think about. Not that I've really thought about anything else since meeting her, it's just worse now. Because she's here and she's technically mine she just...doesn't want to be.
On the surface, I was hurt. Of course I was hurt, rejection from the one person everyone looks forward to meeting is kind of a really shitty feeling. I tried to remind myself of Camila's reasons, tried to keep in mind that she's scared. And I'm at a loss of what I'm supposed to do, torn between respecting Camila's wishes and going after her anyways. If I let myself think about it, below the surface, I so desperately want to be angry. I want to scream and I want to yell about how selfish she's being, how her trying to preserve her heart was only breaking mine.
I want to hate her.
Vero doesn't let me though, constantly telling me to remember where Camila is coming from, how hard this would be for her to get over. But she insists that Camila will come around, that she wasn't expecting me to actually show up in her life. She bets Camila probably guessed she would never find me, so she never had to worry about me. Admittedly it makes sense, but it doesn't take away the sting of rejection.
None of this is made any easier with my best friend trying to act as if I'm not completely heartbroken over all of this.
"Do you really think I need to be stalking her Instagram? I don't need to keep pining after her," I do my best to keep the bite out of my tone.
"But you do! You gotta keep your eye on the prize, Laur."
I turn away from her, my eyes rolling as I resume wiping down tables. The diner is empty and I'm running out of things to pretend to be doing- meanwhile Vero makes use of the free time by stalking Camila's social media.
"Do she got the booty?" I hear Vero ask, I try not to acknowledge her because I know she'll-
"She dooooooooo-"
"Vero!" I snap at her, twisting my body around to face her. "Look, I really appreciate this whole attempt at making light of things but I'm going to be honest and say it sucks. It really really fucking sucks because she's had her mind made up about this- about me for years. She doesn't want to be with me or with anyone and I can't do anything to change her mind. So can we please just-" I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. "Can we please just drop it?"
A minute of silence passes between us and I want to breathe out a sigh of relief but I see the conflicted look on her face, replaced with an apologetic look.
"I can't let you give up on her," she says quietly.
I feel anger rush through me and there's an urge to slam my fists, yell at Vero how Camila doesn't want me and how it's a lost cause and how we should all just fucking. Let. It. Go. Then I'm hit with a wave of exhaustion because all of this is so genuinely tiring and I am simply out of energy.
"Why not?" I sigh deeply. The tiredness evident in my voice.
"You just need to give her some time-"
"I've given her time," I insist.
"Laur, it hasn't even been a week. She needs more than that to figure out how to face all of this. She wasn't expecting you, let her come to you on her own time."
"Why are you taking her side?! I'm your best friend and I got my heart stomped on and you're telling me 'she'll come around,' " I erupt.
"How are you so sure? " There's a little desperation in my voice because if Vero has answers, I would really like to know them. She averts her eyes from me though, faltering in her previously confident stance.
"I just have a feeling about this, okay? Can you trust me and wait just a little bit longer?" Vero asks me imploringly. I narrow my eyes at her, skeptical of her blind faith in Camila. She doesn't know what it's like to feel literal love of your life leave your arms and be left to watch her drive away. And I don't want to waste my time trying to get her to understand.
"Whatever," I respond with a clipped tone, effectively ending the conversation.
Vero walks away to tend to a couple that's come in and I make my to the kitchen, allowing myself a few minutes to gather myself. I take a few deep breaths, willing away the tears that well in my eyes and step back out. Knowing the lunch rush is about to hit, I chastise myself to get my shit together, trying my best to focus on the next few hours I have to spend at work.
--
6:48 PM
The rest of my shift goes without incident, though the tension between me and Vero is at an all time high (we rarely ever fight). If our manager notices anything, she doesn't say anything. Neither does Vero, though the look on her face says she wants to. I look away before she gets the chance.
It's nearing the end of the shift and I'm itching to get home, away from this tension and away from Vero's sympathetic eyes and my manager's questioning looks.
"Are you upset with me?" her voice is timid and there's an inkling of guilt inside me and I do my best to ignore it.
"No, I'm just tired. I'm sorry for snapping at you," I say easily because I don't know how to ignore any sort of guilt I feel.
"I know it's not what you want to hear, but I'm only trying to help."
She is and I know that and I shouldn't hold anything against her, but all I want help with is how to let go of all these feelings.
"I get it and it'll take me sometime to really appreciate it, but it's hard right now."
Vero nods in understanding and I'm hoping we leave it at that. So of course- we don't.
"I can't imagine how hard this must be for you," she continues. No the fuck you cannot, I mentally agree.
"Though I could guess that this is really hard for Camila too and I'm not trying to side with her," she quickly defends. "I'm only trying to nudge you two along."
There's a softness in her voice that's so genuine and tender that it almost physically hurts to hear. I recognize now that she's only pushing this so much because she cares and I could never fault her for that. Any and all anger that had creeped into me throughout the night, eases out of my body and I feel the tension in my shoulders release as I turn to face Vero with a tired smile.
"Really Vero, it's okay."
She extends her arms out to me with an exaggerated pout, urging me into her embrace. "Come here, gimme some suga'."
Rolling my eyes, I feel myself grin as I step into her arms that wrap tightly around me. I hear her mumble an 'I love you' into my shoulder and my hold on her only tightens when I say it back.
"Lo?"
"Yeah?"
She hesitates for a minute.
"Promise you'll at least try to wait a little a longer?"
I close my eyes and I consider her words, beside myself about what I want and if I'm being honest with myself then there's no question about any of it.
I whisper an 'okay' into her hair before pulling away to finish out the rest of our shift.
7:27 PM
I miss two turns on the way home. I make it back in a daze and everything about me feels numb and heavy at the same time. It takes fifteen minutes for me to get out of my car when I park outside of my apartment complex, my thoughts edging on overwhelming.
Exhaustion is all I feel as I climb up the steps to reach my apartment and I'd look forward to getting some sleep if I weren't so sure that I only have a restless night waiting for me. I've made it my floor and am halfway through the hall when I'm pulled out of my thoughts at the sight of a figure standing in front of my apartment door.
I freeze at the familiarity of them, even with their back turned to me.
I can only stare for who knows how long, finally noticing that there's a phone held to her ear and watching as she begins to pace width of the hallway. My feet slowly, almost cautiously carry me forward as I (un)intentionally catch her end of the phone call.
"You said she'd be home by now...are you sure? Do you think something happened to her? Oh god I can't breathe- I fucking can't." She runs a frantic hand through her hair and tries her best to inhale but it seems caught in her throat.
"Okay. Okay, yeah. She's probably fine. I just....I need to see her, Vero," her voice cracks and she lets out a shaky breath and it distracts me from realizing she's on the phone with Vero of all people. I want to reach out to her, but I stay rooted where I am and my throat is suddenly dry. But I want her to see me and a small part of my mind wills her to turn around just a little more...
"Could you maybe text her for me? Just make sure- so I know she's okay?" she asks in such a broken voice that I feel myself step forward, needing to bring myself closer. It's then that she finally sees me in the midst of her pacing and her whole body stops.
Deep brown eyes brimming with tears meet mine and I almost reach forward to wipe them away but I hear her gasp and I can faintly hear the voice on her phone calling out her name. I can feel my heart pounding against my chest and the silence between us makes her seem farther. The hand holding up her phone falls limply to her side, her gaze never leaving mine and the quiet stretches out for longer than I can tell, until she finally decides to break through.
"Hi Lauren," she says lamely and I have to swallow the lump in my throat.
"What are you doing here, Camila?"
A/N hey babes, thanks for reading ily! sorry for the cliffhanger and taking like a month to update and again for the cliffhanger lmao
hopefully the next update won't take as long but bc of who i am as a person, can't promise anything :T