Getting coffee with Camila was...well, awkward.
Lauren was still strumming with the emotions from earlier, feelings buzzed and high from the elation of knowing how Camila felt—knowing that everything stemmed not from a desire to hurt, but a desire to prevent it. She was excited for the future, thrilled for the first time in a while, but was still unsure and hesitant and worried when it came to Camila. (It was natural, she told herself. It was expected. After everything, she shouldn't be quick to jump to move on—these things took time, took healing, took the rebuilding of trust. Right?)
They sat across from each other, staring determinedly at anything but each other, Lauren's finger nervously tapping away against the table, Camila biting her lips so hard that Lauren was sure she'd draw blood. And as the minutes dragged on, it became even more awkward—painfully so.
"So. This is weird."
"Yeah," Lauren agreed, meeting Camila's eyes.
"Do you think it's too late?" The question came hesitantly but harshly, like she knew she shouldn't ask but had no other choice—was compelled by some force far beyond her control. And Lauren, Lauren who'd been having the same thoughts, swallowed hard and looked down.
"Too late for us?"
"Yeah."
"Do you think we're that screwed up?"
"I don't know. Do you?" Lauren watched as Camila drew a circle with the tip of her finger on her coffee cup, her entire attention seemingly on the action. But she could tell, tell by the way Camila's body leaned forward, by the way her chin was raised, by the way her eyes darted, that her focus was only on Lauren—waiting with bated breath to hear Lauren's answer.
"I think Mrs. Cabello would say something about love here." She wanted to say more, but Camila met her eyes, a sad smile on her lips, and Lauren's words died in her throat.
"But maybe love isn't enough," she said softly, shrugging. "Maybe it's about knowing when to throw in the towel." She swallowed hard, once again looking down at her cup, aimlessly dragging her fingers over it. "I can't hurt you anymore, Lauren." And that, that was the moment things became easy once more. Because the sight of Camila, miserable and quiet, ready to give up before even trying if trying meant causing pain, made Lauren realize this was what got them in trouble in the first place—made her realize what to do.
"You're an idiot." Camila looked up, something fiery appearing in her eyes. It wasn't anger or frustration, but a sense of discontent—seemingly affronted that Lauren would be so rude.
"Seriously?"
"Well you are. Just half an hour ago we said we were too smart to make the same mistakes again. And here we are, doing it again."
"We can't even get through coffee together. You think we're going to last as a couple?"
"Yes, I do."
"Lauren—"
"No, listen to me. You're playing devil's advocate, and it's pissing me off. We can do this. It'll just take time."
"Love conquers all, huh?" She was being sarcastic, more like her usual self, and Lauren grinned.
"Actually, yes. Mrs. Cabello said that love is like an infinite energy source, and we choose to put in the effort to direct that source towards a single person." Camila nodded, but didn't speak, and after a short pause, Lauren plowed on. "And she's right, I think. But also wrong."
"Oh wow, she'd be so offended if she heard this."
"You don't get to choose who you fall for," Lauren continued, smiling slightly at Camila's comment. "And I don't think you have to put in effort to direct that infinite energy source towards that person. I think it's a natural process, that's just the way the energy flows."
"So there's no choice at all?"
"No, there is. You can choose to let it flow or...just walk away." She cleared her throat, suddenly unable to meet Camila's eyes, feeling open and vulnerable. "I know it's awkward now and it might be for a while, and we need to be friends again before we can be anything else, but I don't want to walk away. I don't."
"I don't want to walk away either," Camila said, forcing Lauren to look up, both of them suddenly grinning like fools. "So we take it slow."
"Slow," Lauren agreed.
(And if Ally and Normani groaned when they told them, if their friends claimed that if they went any slower they'd be going backwards, they didn't care. Because for the first time, it felt right.)
//
After a month of taking it slow, Lauren was going mad.
Slow meant rebuilding their friendship. It meant long conversations, filling each other in on every little thing they'd missed over the last several months. It meant Camila coming with her to visit her mom, it meant Lauren began seeing Dave and Mike and Camila's other friends again. It meant they knocked before they entered each other's apartments, it meant they limited their physical contact, it meant that they were free to talk about any other romantic interests (and if there weren't other romantic interests, if they were both sure of what they wanted, who they wanted, it was a tacit thing, a mutual understanding, and so they only spoke of each other).
(But their eyes strayed, lingered for longer than what would be considered strictly 'friendly,' and Lauren's heart pounded, and the slightest of grazes against Camila set her nerves on fire, sending wave after wave of signals to her brain, leaving her tingling and warm and wanting.)
(She was driven mad by the proximity, by the sudden inability to keep her desires under wraps. Because Camila was no longer something untouchable and off limits—she was opportunity, she was the future, she was nothing but unbridled potential. There was something there, and as the weeks dragged on, as her wounds healed, as forgiveness sealed the last gaps in her heart, Lauren wanted to capitalize, wanted to go for that something.)
(But they were taking it slow, and so they waited.)
//
It was three months after being asked on a date that Lauren finally said yes.
They were preoccupied with classes and exams and due dates and hadn't seen or spoken to each other in a days. So when Camila came by, laden with her textbooks and computer, claiming she didn't want to be alone while she studied, Lauren let her in without complaint, ordered Chinese, and they sat on opposite ends of the couch, facing each other, studying and chatting and eating. And when Camila speared her peppered beef with a chopstick, when she grinned widely at Lauren, looking positively proud of herself, the word came out of her without any prompting.
"Yes."
"Yes what?" Camila asked, her eyes now on the television, her textbook going ignored. "You know, I think I've seen this episode before."
"No, Camila. Listen. Yes." Camila turned away from the television at Lauren's tone, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Yes what?" she asked again. Slowly, clearing her throat as she did so, Lauren set her container of food aside and sat up straight, refusing to break eye contact, no matter how nervous she was and how much she wanted to.
"Yes, to the date." Camila merely blinked in response, and for a second Lauren wondered if she made a terrible mistake, if she somehow misunderstood. "I mean. We don't have to—"
"Oh my god, finally," Camila muttered, interrupting her, and the next thing Lauren knew, Camila had thrown herself on top of her, hugging her so tightly that she could barely breathe. "I was starting to get worried, to be honest," she admitted, her hot breath against Lauren's ear, making her shiver, embarrassingly enough. "I was going crazy. Why did we think waiting so long was a good idea?"
"You know," Lauren began, tangling her fingers with Camila's, smiling slightly, "I don't even remember anymore." Camila opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to argue, but after a moment, she just let out a laugh, shook her head, and settled back on the couch, resuming eating and watching television—still determinedly ignoring her textbook.
They didn't let go of each other's hands.
//
They had their first date not a week later.
Lauren fumbled slightly with the flowers and box of chocolates in her hands as she knocked on the door, wondering if she was being too cliché and silly, wondering if she should at least go toss the chocolates. But then the door opened, revealing a frazzled Camila, and all of Lauren's thoughts dissipated, and she could do nothing but smile.
"Hi."
"You're early," Camila accused, but she was grinning widely as well, stepping back and letting Lauren in. "About two hours early."
"I was excited."
"I'm not ready." Lauren looked Camila up and down, at her worn jeans, paint covered t-shirt, her hair pulled back into a messy bun, and she shrugged.
"I think you look great."
"I was painting."
"I can tell. You still have some here." She gestured towards Camila's neck, and Camila grabbed a rag, rubbing furiously, only managing to irritate her skin. After a moment, Lauren took pity on her and wordlessly asked for the rag, and Camila groaned as she handed it over.
"Are you nervous?" she asked as Lauren gently began wiping the paint off Camila's neck. "Because I'm nervous. I paint when I'm nervous."
"I know. And yeah, I'm nervous."
"Even if the date goes terribly, we'll always be friends. Best friends."
"Yeah."
"The fake date wasn't bad. I ruined it. But before that, it was good, right?"
"I liked it when you called me attractive. And when you kissed me," Lauren chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind Camila's ear. She dropped the rag, but her hand didn't move away from Camila's neck, her fingertips itching to close the last few centimeters of distance, itching to feel Camila's skin against her own. "I made reservations for dinner," she continued.
"Did you?" Camila stepped forward, her hands gripping the front of Lauren's jacket, almost like she was off balance and needed something to steady her.
"Yeah." She was sure Camila could hear the sound of her heart beating, but she didn't wonder if that was normal. Instead, Lauren was totally fixated on the softness of Camila's skin beneath her fingertips, the way her breath hitched as Lauren let her fingers trail over Camila's neck, down to her collarbone, then back up to her cheeks. "It's not a very good restaurant," she whispered, and Camila nodded shakily, tugging on Lauren's jacket, slowly pulling it off of her.
"Waste, really," Camila muttered. "We could always do something else." She let Lauren's jacket drop to the floor, then pulled slightly on her shirt, pressing them flush together.
"Are you drunk or sad?"
"No. Are you?"
"No. Do you want this?"
"Yes, yes. Do you?"
"God, yes."
(They never made it to their reservation.)
(They didn't care.)
//
They sat together on Shawn's couch, hands tangled.
"I don't trust it," he announced, looking at the two of them critically. His eyes darted between them, narrowing and widening, looking unconvinced. "How long?"
"Two months?" Camila said, looking at Lauren for clarification.
"I knew it!" Normani hissed, jumping up. "I fucking knew it. Lauren's been way too happy, I knew she was getting laid."
"Well, I'm not allowed to have an opinion," Ally said, handing over the beers. "But if I were, I'd say it's about time. God, it was torture watching you two torture yourselves. How could you wait three months?"
"We wanted to do it right," Camila said, raising her eyebrows, daring anyone to argue. When no one did, she let out a self-satisfied huff.
"Well, for whatever it's worth, I'm glad," Shawn announced, getting to his feet and holding up his beer, his eyes on Lauren. "I know we've been shitty friends to you, and I know you're tired of the apologizing and gifts—"
"Shawn the fucking suck up," Normani interrupted, rolling her eyes. "You and Lauren always got along better than the rest of us. She even told you about moving out beforehand."
"Maybe because she knew she could trust me?" Shawn countered, and Normani's eyes narrowed, but she didn't reply. "Anyway. The point is, I'm glad you two worked things out, but more importantly, I'm glad you two are happy. You are happy, right?"
"That would be awkward, if they weren't," Ally muttered, making Lauren laugh and Camila glare at her.
"We are," Lauren said, and Shawn grinned.
"Right. So this is getting sappy," he said, clearing his throat roughly. "I need to be drunker for this." He left the room, heading towards his kitchen, and Ally leaned forward.
"He's so thrilled, he can't even hide it," she mock whispered. "lame softie."
"Better than you, Ally," Normani said, rolling her eyes again. "You're not even allowed to have an opinion."
//
"It seems like a colossally bad idea," Lauren muttered, approaching Camila and hugging her from behind, resting her chin on Camila's shoulder. "It's like they want Christmas screwed up this year." Camila turned around, not moving away from Lauren's embrace, leaning back against the counter, facing Lauren with raised eyebrows.
"Why would inviting you screw up Christmas?"
"Do you remember last year?"
"Last year was my fault. Besides. It's common knowledge that my family loves you more than me. It'll be great."
"Did you tell them we're dating?"
"I did. My mom said she'll believe it when she sees it, and my grandmother claimed she was glad that I finally learned to respect the candy, which apparently, should mean something to you." Lauren laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Camila's lips before pulling away to help with fixing dinner. They both still had their own apartments, but they never spent a night apart, and Lauren found herself at Camila's place more often than not (even going as far as to call it 'their home,' a comment that had Camila grinning madly for hours).
"We could always spend Christmas alone."
"And face the Cabello ire the rest of our lives?" Camila asked, feigning affront. "We spent Thanksgiving with your family."
"Yeah, but my family consists of two normal people. Yours is a mess of insanity." Camila narrowed her eyes.
"You say that, but I know you're mush, and I know you're thrilled to see my grandmother again. You've missed her."
"Mrs. Cabello is the only sane one, true."
"Lauren."
"What?"
"It's only three days."
"I never said no. I merely questioned your family's decision to invite me this year after the fiasco last year."
"So it's a yes?"
"If you want."
"Lauren." With a sigh—mostly an act on her part, for Camila was right about one thing, she did desperately want to see Mrs. Cabello again—Lauren rolled her eyes and faced Camila completely.
"Yes, Camila," she said, "it's a yes."
//
"You'd think they'd have learned their lesson last year," Lauren muttered, looking out the car window as Camila drove up to the house, still large, still impressive, still imposing. "I still can't believe I was invited."
"You weren't just invited. This entire gathering rests purely on your shoulders. The foundation upon which the Cabello family stands."
"Oh ha. Done having your fun?"
"Not even a little." She parked the car, shut it off, then sat back in her seat, facing Lauren with a smile. "Excited?"
"I'm going to learn how to bake a pie. Either pumpkin or apple."
"Now I'm not excited."
"I'm a great baker."
"No, Lauren, you're really not." Before Lauren could protest, however, Camila leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, placating her. "It's three days with my family. And all the wine you could want. What could go wrong?"
"You just jinxed it. Everything's going to go wrong. Mrs. Cabello is going to hate me now that we're actually dating." But Camila didn't seem to share Lauren's worries. She just laughed and got out of the car, grabbing their bags and heading inside where chaos awaited them.
And Lauren, Lauren felt her heart flutter with excitement.
She walked into the Cabello home and was immediately assaulted with a tight hug, a child's face buried in her stomach.
"You're here!" came a muffled voice, and Lauren awkwardly patted the top of Peter's head, unsure what else to do.
"I was forced," she said, grinning when Peter pulled away to look at her carefully. "Apparently, you and Ellie need to be a taught a lesson in Monopoly." His eyes narrowed, but before he could argue, he was literally shoved aside by his sister, and Lauren found herself in a second hug in the span of five seconds. "I feel popular today."
"Popularity's never been your issue, has it?" Camila muttered, standing to the side, totally ignored by both her cousins.
"I'm so glad you came, Lauren. Aunt Hannah claimed you wouldn't, so I told my mom I wouldn't stay," Ellie said, grinning wide, making Lauren wonder when and where she'd made such an impact on the girl, enough for her to stand up to her mother. "You're the only reason staying with family was any fun." Lauren's eyes narrowed, realizing Ellie's sudden affection was less about her and more about the drama she caused.
"Hate to break it to you, but we're all sorted out. No shouting matches for you."
"It was the cliff analogy, right?" Ellie asked, pulling away. "You pushed her?"
"Cliff analogy?" Camila asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Lauren just shook her head.
"Will the Maddies be attacking me too? Or can I go see Mrs. Cabello?"
"She's in her bedroom," Peter supplied helpfully, while Ellie just snickered away, caught up in explaining the cliff analogy to Camila—Camila, whose eyes were quickly narrowing, a frown appearing on her face, clearly offended.
"What if there were jagged rocks at the bottom?" she asked her cousin as Lauren inched away, heading up the stairs. "Seems like a serious safety hazard." Lauren didn't hear Ellie's response, too focused on knocking on Carol's door.
"Mrs. Cabello?" she called, stepping in hesitantly, preparing herself for the collage and overabundance of photos she'd seen last time. Except, she needn't have prepared at all; Carol's bedroom—thought still homely, flowers in a vase, warm, nice—was mostly bare except for a small picture frame in front of the mirror, a photo of the entire Cabello family in the corner, the rest of the frame taken up by a large picture of James Cabello.
"Lauren Jauregui" Carol said, grinning widely and getting up from where she sat at her desk, giving Lauren a tight hug, the first hug of the day that she didn't immediately stiffen at, the first hug she welcomed. She seemed healthier than from what Lauren remembered—the frail woman who had lost everything was gone, replaced by someone far closer to the Carol of when James was alive (though somehow, Lauren knew that that Carol was forever lost). "I almost didn't think you'd come."
"Because of all the trouble I caused last time?"
"No, because there's a bet between John and Hannah that you two are still putting up an act." Lauren laughed and Carol pulled away, patting her fondly on the cheek. "I think I'm going to win a lot of money."
"Bet on us, did you?"
"Always," she said simply, as if no other possibility could ever exist for her. She smiled, and Lauren waited, waited to be asked a million questions, waited to be asked to recount everything that happened—from the moment she and Camila left last year up to this moment. But instead, Carol continued to smile.
"Don't you want to know all the details?"
"No."
"Really? You?" Carol raised her eyebrows at Lauren's disbelieving tone, but she just shook her head. "You don't want to know anything at all?"
"Are you two happy?"
"Well, it would be really awkward if we weren't." When she just continued to wait, Lauren sighed, nodding and staring up at the ceiling to avoid Carol's eyes, still uncomfortable with sharing her feelings. "Yeah. We are."
"Then that's all I need to know. Camila respects the candy, no cliffs were necessary, and your backbone seems pretty sturdy. All in all, I'd say I know more than enough."
"It almost didn't work out," Lauren muttered, meeting Carol's eyes, trying to goad her into asking questions. But Carol continued to smile, humming slightly.
"Really?"
"Oh yeah. Took months. Lots of work on both our parts."
"That's nice, hon."
"You honestly don't want to know anything? You?" At that, Carol laughed, a deep, loud sound, echoing in the room.
"My work is done, Lauren," she said, patting her shoulder. "I wanted to help, not meddle in your relationship."
"So if we start fighting again, you'll be around?"
"Always."
//
"They pulled the wool over our eyes once before," John shouted, shaking his head dramatically, "I won't fall for it again! The relationship will never last!"
"Turn off the TV, John," Kate said patiently, smiling at her husband, and all Lauren could do was stare, flabbergasted that anyone could deal with him all day every day. "Camila and Lauren are here."
"Are they really?" He turned off the television with gusto, getting up from the couch with a grin. He immediately hugged his niece, causing Camila to groan, but when he reached out for Lauren, she shook her head. "Reached your hug quota, did you?"
"Three's the limit, sorry."
"Harsh words from a harsh girl. And I still like you better than the other guy." His grin slipped off his face as he watched Camila wrap an arm around Lauren waist, as they stood there as if they couldn't bear to be apart for even a second. "Dammit," he said, shaking his head.
"Is something wrong, Uncle John?" Camila asked innocently.
"Who told you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "Who spilled the beans?"
"Other than Lauren?" Sinu called from the kitchen. Camila laughed, but Lauren let out a sigh, knowing she should've expected such treatment. The Cabellos hadn't been shy about including her in their jokes before she and Camila started dating; it was only bound to get worse.
"No, seriously. Who told you about the bet?"
"Whatever do you mean, Uncle John?"
"Look," he said, his eyes narrowing at Camila, "you made you point. Now act normal so I can at least fool a hundred bucks out of Hannah."
"Only if you split it with us," Lauren muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. John let out a longsuffering sigh, but he nodded seriously.
"Fine, fine. Fifty-fifty?"
"Are you kidding? With all the work we have to put in to fool her? Seventy-thirty." John's eyes narrowed further, but before he could speak, Camila cut in.
"As fun as it is to watch you shakedown my uncle, I'm going to go find Aunt Hannah and Aunt Lizzie," she said, pressing a light kiss to Lauren's cheek before heading towards the kitchen, deep in conversation with Kate, both of them laughing. Lauren and John watched them go for a moment, then he turned to her, his mock seriousness gone, replaced by total sincerity.
"You guys worked things out," he observed unnecessarily. "That's good."
"I tried the sarcastic route, but turned out all I needed to do was talk to her." He laughed, shaking his head before running his fingers through his hair.
"If Ale were here, he'd probably give you the speech," he said, and Lauren knew the words were coming out with some difficulty because he no longer looked her in the eye. "But I'd like to state for the record that I was right about you."
"About what?" John looked up then, and he smiled his small, sincere smile, the rare one, the one that was different from all the rest.
"You never needed it."
//
It was like they'd never left.
The book she'd forgotten to pack in her haste to leave still sat on the desk, one of Camila's shirts still was folded in the dresser. Lauren stood in the doorway of the bedroom, taking a deep breath, noticing only then that the boxes that had been tucked away into the closet were gone.
"My mom took some stuff, my grandma put the other stuff up. She said she didn't want to hide him away anymore—not my dad and definitely not my granddad," Camila explained, noticing where Lauren's eyes were. She dropped their bags and laid back on the bed, letting out a loud groan. "Can you believe the last time we were here, we weren't getting along?"
"We still don't get along," Lauren joked, dropping down next to her, grinning slightly when Camila just huffed. "Thanks." Camila turned to her, frowning, eyebrows raised.
"For what?"
"For asking me here. For being you. Just...everything." She threaded her fingers through Camila's, her heart humming in contentment, her very arteries and veins and nerves thrumming with a sense of belonging. There was a key in her suitcase, wrapped up in a small box and ready to be given to Camila at any moment, there was a sense of urgency to get back downstairs and help the other Cabellos with dinner and fooling Hannah, there was a debt of Monopoly to be paid to the kids, and Lauren knew things would only become more chaotic the following day, when her mother and sister arrived, for the first time bringing both their families together.
But for now, here with Camila, she was home.