A/N: I'M NOT DEAD. I KNOW I TOOK SO LONG BUT HERE IT IS.
Also sorry if the format is weird???? I'm posting from my phone bc I'm an impatient loser and idk what I'm doing I might have to come back and fix it later so anyway
APOLOGIES FOR THE TYPOS
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The rest of the week goes by without any of those more than platonic hiccups. Thanks to Camila's strict and disciplined boundaries.
Or at least she likes to think so.
(Dinah had an annoying habit of reminding her that she and Lauren hadn't really had the opportunity to be alone – completely – to test out said boundaries.)
Not that Camila voluntarily decided to keep her distance.
No. She had been uncharacteristically busy. Which was saying a lot considering she felt she had wasted the majority of her summer doing nothing.
("Especially not Lauren!").
Her mom had put her to work doing chores. Some of which didn't exactly seem necessary.
Like reorganizing the DVD cabinet. Dusting out the garage. Throwing out the cat's litter box.
They didn't even have a cat.
Camila hadn't protested much. Despite the new irritating intrusion on her Lauren time, it was oddly comforting having her mom boss her around. There was a sense of normalcy that hadn't been present in a very long time.
Instead of the dreary mornings of staring up at her ceiling, Camila had been shaken awake with the sound of Celia Cruz blasting throughout the house and the smell of Fabuloso invading her nose.
Her dad had also requested her help with the car in the afternoons. Not that she did much. She had an irrational fear of the sound of the rumbling motor. And anyway, his definition of helping was literally just handing over the tools while she sat and watched him hunch over the engine.
Additionally, with the onslaught of housework, her sister had also provided a new daily ritual. Every morning during breakfast she'd have Camila read over her letters to make sure she was spelling everything correctly. It became something to look forward to as she was eating her plate of eggs. Recently Sofi had taken to considering her opinion on the variation of stickers on the stationary pages.
To say Camila was pleased was an understatement. She had never felt more useful around the house. Dinah had picked up on her attitude as well, teasing her relentlessly.
"You look all glowy," Dinah comments when Camila returns to her room after the morning spent raking up the leaves in the backyard.
They didn't even have a tree back there. And it was Summer.
"Glowy?" She questions as she heads towards her closet to pick out an outfit. Her eyes scan the unorganized rack of clothes hopefully.
"Yeah, glowy," Dinah repeats in a pointed tone. "And I'm kind of wondering why."
"No reason really," Camila replies, focus landing upon a very familiar flannel. She hears Dinah pad over next to her. She feels her skeptical eyes studying the side of her face. Heat rushes up to her cheeks as she moves her attention over to the next shirt before Dinah realizes what she'd been looking at exactly.
Of course, Dinah notices everything.
"You're going to see Lauren today."
Camila huffs and turns to regard her sharply. "So?"
At the first sign of Dinah's signature smirk, Camila flushes angrily.
"Normani and Ally will be there too," she adds. "We're meeting at Lauren's for driving."
"Right, meeting." Dinah's grin turns impish.
Camila frowns, returning back to her perusing. "Whatever. Shut up."
She ends up settling for Lauren's flannel.
Though, Dinah's assumption isn't too far off. As much as she hates to admit it, she does feel a little surge of anticipation at the thought of seeing Lauren.
Even though they had kept up the constant communication it was an entirely different experience seeing one another in person.
The frequent text messages and late night calls hadn't been enough. The conversations had been easy and pleasant, but always underlined with enough sexual tension. As if any moment the tone could turn into something suggestive. It left her in a never ending loop of wanting more.
It's like she's in some kind of roller coaster. The loopy ones Dinah would've forced her to get on.
The tension between them rises unbearably slowly, only for it to fall abruptly with the shattering moment.
She might go crazy. She really just might.
To make matters worse it seems as if Lauren is completely unaffected by the surge of hormones. She keeps her distance. A platonic distance, that makes the heat simmer low in her belly at the potential of an encounter.
The fact that both their parents suddenly required their assistance around the house seemed more than just a little suspicious.
So later, as she's approaching Lauren's house, the thrill of reunion sparks another round of excitement and apprehension. It's silly. Stupid, really, how worked up she's getting, the nerves in her behaving as if she hasn't seen Lauren in years when really it's only been about a week.
A really long week.
She finds Lauren sitting out on the porch. Unaware of her staring.
Camila takes the opportunity to watch her for a moment. The sight is a familiar one. Then again Camila thinks everything regarding Lauren is so distantly familiar.
Lauren looks up, as if sensing her presence.
Camila inhales sharply, hesitating near the driveway. She hears Dinah groan exasperatedly behind her.
It's been a stupidly long week.
When Camila nears, Lauren stands up with a smile, posture visibly brightening that Camila can't help but feel herself slowly warming up to the feeling.
"Hi," Lauren greets, almost shyly.
"Hey."
She waits expectantly, both of them standing before each other awkwardly. Camila almost has half a mind to pull her into a hug, but before she can do anything stupid; she promptly takes a seat on the porch step.
Lauren follows suit.
"Normani says she'll be here soon," Camila murmurs.
An outing that was exclusively a driving day had inevitably turned into an impromptu group hang when Lauren invited herself after Camila mentioned it. Then Normani promptly invited Ally, claiming that they might as well include the older girl. Though according to Dinah, it was really because Normani refused to be the third wheel.
And despite reconnecting with her friends, Camila can't help but feel a little disappointed. That they won't be alone. That their time together has been so sparse. That she inevitably has to share her Lauren time with others.
As if sensing her thoughts, Lauren nudges her on the arm. "I think it's better this way."
Camila had waved the third wheel thoughts away, convinced that Dinah was full of shit. But the more Dinah teased, the more Camila had begun to truly question it.
How did people perceive her and Lauren's relationship?
Outwardly they could just look like a couple of friends.
We are friends, Camila thinks stubbornly. And Normani and Ally? Friends.
Camila supposes she doesn't mind it, in the end. What did it matter in the long run? People didn't have to know or understand the nature of their relationship. It was between them.
And it wasn't like it was anything to be worried about. It wasn't like they had absolutely no self control She was more than capable of resisting temptation – if you could even call it temptation.
Though, admittedly she's beginning to feel that perhaps resisting may be easier said than done.
Especially because she immediately notices the frustrating fact that Lauren chooses now to wear a thin, tank top with a plunging neckline.
And Camila comes to the conclusion that:
A). she's been reduced to a horny teenage boy that can't keep their eyes in appropriate places and
B). this is some ploy Lauren's created to steal another one of her sweaters
Jokes on her, Camila thinks smugly, tugging at the flannel that she had stolen from Lauren.
"What do you mean?" Camila asks keeping her eyes trained away for safe measure.
"Having more hangouts with the girls," Lauren says. Camila hears her clear her throat. "You know, as a buffer. Keep things. PF-y. Resist the urges. "
"What the – what urges?"
"Camila, I've caught you literally staring at my chest for the past five minutes."
Her face boils over as she finally glances up at Lauren. There's already an awaiting smug grin across her lips that should aggravate Camila, but all that disperses is a frustrating surge of excitement.
She hadn't seen Lauren in a week. How could she possibly be mad?
"I wasn't staring," Camila stammers.
"Ok not staring," she amends. "Leering."
The frustration is stupid. It's even more stupid when Camila begins to realize that she's not exactly as frustrated as she's trying to be. In fact, whatever this is it's almost – amusing. And she wants more of it. More of the light, playful energy that's beginning to make her stomach flutter.
"Yeah well, I saw you checking out my ass before I sat down." Camila's grasping at straws here really. But from the way Lauren suddenly turns an angry red makes her wonder. "Wow, I was only kidding, Sir Mix-A Lot."
"What?" Lauren blinks, perplexed.
"Or were you lying about liking big butts?"
It takes a moment for the joke to sink in, and Camila expects the deadpan (especially from Dinah), but Lauren bursts into laughter. It's loud and corny and it makes Camila's chest ache.
Lauren ducks her head bashfully. Camila's eyes follow her smile, feeling her own lips pull into a silly grin. She drinks in the soft blush spread across pale cheeks, eyes dipping down to trace the little curve of her smile.
"You're so dumb." Lauren nudges her with her arm.
Camila inhales sharply at the brief contact, looking away before she does something dumb like call Lauren beautiful. Which wouldn't be so terrible because, like, yeah, okay, Lauren is beautiful. She's always thought Lauren was beautiful. From the moment she learned what the word meant, probably.
It's not like she hasn't refrained from calling her beautiful before.
And from the way the laughter still lingers on her happy expression, it's not like Camila's opinion on the matter is changing any time soon.
But it's weird. Especially after the whole incident at the concert. Things between them had still been tentative. Whatever fragile confidence Camila was beginning to feel towards the nature of the relationship was so easily dismantled.
Lauren sobers, finally noticing her sudden silence. Her smile turns into a worried frown. "What is it?"
Camila stammers incomprehensibly, even to her own ears. She hears Dinah snort from somewhere behind them.
"You're so..." Camila's voice dies in her throat. The lump already forms, clogging anymore words from making it past her lips for a moment.
Lauren lowers her head, trying to meet her eyes. She stares at her for a long moment, studying her, trying to read her. Camila trains her expression into impassivity, only meeting Lauren's intense gaze when necessary.
"I'm so what?" Lauren looks at her as if she knows exactly what she wants to say. It's the air of the confidence that she used to remember Lauren possessing. The very same kind that used to leave boys wrapped around her finger back in high school.
It's an entirely different experience being on the receiving end of said behavior. And the more she thinks about it, the more she starts to feel like an idiot. Was she as obvious as those dumb boys falling over their feet just to get some sort of affection from Lauren? Was she as desperate for the attention?
Camila feels a stab of bitterness at the thought, before letting out a small chuckle.
"You're the dumb one," she says. "not getting my reference. Who doesn't know that song?"
Lauren blinks. Something flashes behind green eyes that offers Camila what seems to be a little glimmer of relief but it's quickly shut down by an unreadable iron curtain. The drastic divide leaves her dizzy and confused as she tries to grip one emotion with certainty.
Lauren looks away. It makes Camila burn with embarrassment.
She wishes she hadn't said anything. Why couldn't she just keep her big mouth shut? Why was she cursed with such a loose filter?
"Camz," Lauren begins. Her tone is soft. The way her nickname sounds is even softer. It's weighted with something – something more. Something riddled with a kind of secret meaning that has Camila frustrated with her lacking ability to solve it.
Lauren's hand comes to cover hers and immediately, Camila's attention darts down to their joined hands.
Her eyebrows pull together in frustration. For once something recognizable flickers in the green depths. She looks like she's dying to say something.
Say it.
Lauren opens her mouth to speak again, but before she can, the sound of a throat clearing interrupts her.
Both of them turn to see Normani standing there nervously, as if this is the last thing she wants to intrude upon.
Her eyebrow rises as she regards them both. Camila suddenly feels worse than the time she'd been caught by Clara (which she didn't think was even possible).
"You guys don't know the meaning of discretion," Dinah comments idly.
Do you?
"Um." Normani presses her lips together and plays with the keys in her hands. "Your dad's blocking the driveway, so I parked next door." She juts out a thumb in the direction of Camila's house, and sure enough, Normani's SUV is perfectly parked in the driveway.
Though Camila has a feeling that they still probably would've been caught up in their own bubble even if Normani had parked a few inches from them.
Lauren coughs awkwardly, drawing both of their attention. "I'm ready. We're ready. Where's Ally?
Camila's swears Normani's expression almost turns smug, before the polite smile graces her lips. "She wasn't ready yet. I told her I'd pick her up after you guys."
They waste no more time. Camila takes the driver's seat as Normani moves into the passenger seat. Lauren slips into the back.
The drive to Ally's house is quiet. Normani doesn't make a comment about what she walked in on thankfully. And for the umpteenth time Camila feels a wave of gratitude towards her friend.
(She can't say the same for Dinah and her teasing).
As they approach Ally's house, Camila takes in the notable renovations. The broken fence that had been there since she's known Ally is replaced with intricately designed wooden planks. The roof's been redone with terra cotta tile. The expensive kind. The one she remembers her father raving about wanting. House repainted an earthy brown.
Camila's interest piques as she takes in the fixer upper, noticing how brilliantly it stands out compared to the neighboring houses.
Ally's grandparents' house, she should say. As soon as Ally found out she was accepted, the family made plans to move out to Texas. Though her grandparents decided to remain in Florida.
"Grandma Hernandez really outdid herself," Camila mutters, not realizing she's spoken out loud. Normani glances at her from the passenger seat. Her smile tightens.
"Ally paid for the remodels," Normani answers quietly. There's a pregnant pause, one that Camila expects to be filled, but Normani remains silent.
Camila returns her attention to the house, staring at it thoughtfully. Eyes running across the trim hedges. Camila doesn't really feel anything to the changes. For the longest, Ally's house had been the least visited place to hang out.
Camila remembers Ally insisting that her place wasn't that suitable for guests, what with her grandparents and her mother constantly suffering the injury sustained a couple years back. Camila remembers Ally always dipping out early during their hang outs to go back home because her mother wasn't doing too well.
Camila feels a pang of guilt as she realizes she hasn't once asked how Ally and her parents were doing with that. The subject had never been brought up. But truthfully, the thought hadn't even crossed Camila's mind.
A sour feeling settles into her stomach as Ally come bustling out the front door. She takes in Ally's hasty stride and bright smile, as she waves to them in the car. Her eyes flicker down to the large bag hanging over her right shoulder. And Camila feels the guilt fade as Ally's familiar presence pushes it away.
Some things never change.
She remembers Ally and her compulsive need to over pack whenever they went out. Anything any of them could have possibly needed was stuffed into that bag. Hand sanitizer, lotion, an extra pair of sunglasses, first aid kit, granola bars and snacks for later. Dinah used to often tease her and call her a mom of four with her huge diaper bag. In fact, Camila wouldn't have been surprised if there actually were diapers in Ally's bag.
Ally was a natural care taker and she relished in babying them. If any of them were sick, Ally was always the first one to spoon feed them homemade soup. If they were in an argument, Ally would try to be the peacemaker between them.
She had a comforting, accommodating presence. A solid form of stability that their group needed, from Normani's reserved demeanor, Lauren's stubborn individualism, and Dinah's outlandish antics.
Perhaps it just was an inherent trait in being the oldest. Camila isn't sure.
"Hey guys," Ally chirps, as she slides in.
Despite the lack of music and the prolonged silence, Ally seems to brighten the atmosphere. It spreads and coils warmly along the confines of the car, making a fluttering feeling settle in Camila's stomach. She catches Lauren's eye in the mirror again to find a smile mimicking the way she's feeling.
She doesn't feel so alone.
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They drive around as Ally fills in the chatter, creating a warm fluffy buffer zone between them. Camila answers when addressed and when she can't, the excuse to concentrate on her driving proves to be sufficient enough for Ally to accept.
Not that that really became an issue. Ally got the hint whenever the words felt like too much. Most of the talking was held between the two in the back, anyway.
Camila tunes the conversation out, inhaling and exhaling briefly, focusing in on Normani's occasional suggestions of directions.
It isn't until Lauren lets out a loud gasp, which causes Camila's focus to split. Her eyes dart to the two in the back.
"You're a drug dealer?!" Lauren sputters, and Camila almost slams on the brakes reflexively upon hearing that. She glances over to the girls in the back. Ally is flushed, looking out the window and away from them.
"I prefer the term cannabis wholesaler," Ally mutters sheepishly. "Why? Do you want some?" She pushes her face between the passenger and driver's seat. Camila blanches.
"I've never taken a weed," Camila splutters awkwardly. Dinah scoffs from the back seat.
"Hello, did you forget that everyone and their mothers' have seen your dumb list?" Dinah rolls her eyes.
Camila winces, as she catches both girls' unimpressed stares. "I mean I've already crossed it off my list."
"Darn," Ally sighs, slumping back against the backseat. "I had a few extra snickerdoodles at home. They're some of my best sellers."
Lauren clears her throat, fiddling with the ends of her shorts. "I mean, Camila hasn't tried edibles. She just smoked a bit from Veronica's supply. And really, it would be beneficial to get the opportunity to try another form of consumption. Purely for the sake of Camila's list though," Lauren adds brightly.
"This bitch just wants edibles," Dinah deadpans.
"Veronica? As in Veronica Iglesias from English?" Ally questions.
Lauren groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Ally, please don't tell me you're the dealer she's been raving about."
"She's one of my best customers in Miami," Ally defends.
"If you heard the things she wants to – actually nevermind you probably wouldn't want to know," Lauren mutters offhandedly.
"So, this is like illegal right?" Camila asks.
"Like half the things on your list are legal, Mila," Dinah pipes in from the back seat.
Ally's expression falters. For a moment Camila wishes she hadn't opened her mouth.
She feels a pang in her chest as she studies the shadow that passes over Ally's face. It unsettles her, leaving a disturbing chill trail down her spine as she watches. It's gone as quickly as it appears.
"Oh my gosh guys, I'm not gonna go, like, Walter White or anything." Ally laughs it off, waving a dismissive hand, and then smiles brightly. One of those bright ones that used to make Camila feel warm inside, like slipping on a pair of fuzzy Christmas socks.
Ally and Dinah had that in common – the ability to brighten up a room with the warm tilt of their lips. It was a selfless kind of smile that one couldn't help but return.
And maybe Camila would have still felt the same way if the smile didn't look so different now.
It's still comprised of the same qualities she was used to. The same curl at the corner of her lips. The same dazzle of white teeth, and roundness of upturned cheeks. But it all falls short because it doesn't quite reach the now absent sparkle in Ally's brown eyes.
It's startling the moment Camila recognizes what's wrong.
And immediately she feels a small upset in the pit of her stomach the more she studies Ally through the rearview mirror. The pang turns into a tightness.
She steels herself away from looking so blatantly. But it drips down upon her, sticky and thick like blood oozing out of an open wound.
She's run out of bandaids.
Because if there's one thing she knows, it's that Ally is not a disingenuous person. It's not in her to be insincere with her actions. Or dishonest in her words.
Yet Camila knows the look plastered across Ally's face all too well, having spent the remainder of her high school life trying to appease the people around her with a fake smile.
They drive in relative silence. The cool air wafting through the half open windows.
The carefree mood has subsided, dropping as quickly as Ally's smile, shifting into something awkward. Something Camila was afraid of with being in their mixed company.
Ally uncharacteristically falls silent. And Camila could slap herself for opening her big mouth. She doesn't know what to say. The silence permeates past the seats, settling uncomfortably between them all. She wants to apologize immediately. She wants to just disappear right through the driver's seat.
It isn't until Lauren clears her throat the nervous energy finally breaks.
"We should hang out next weekend."
Ally takes the bait, visibly brightening in the next second.
"Why don't we do something from your list Camila?" Ally adds in.
She doesn't know if she should feel annoyed or relieved with Lauren's save. That weekend she had...other plans. Plans that would just involve Lauren.
The girls all turn to Camila and she feels her face burn with the sudden attention. They wait, expectantly for a response. Camila sighs, before finding somewhere to pull over.
Once she sets the car on park, Camila digs into her back pocket and pulls out the freshly folded list.
Lauren reaches over the headrest and pulls the paper out of Camila's hand. She and Ally both huddle over the list after she unfolds the paper. Even Normani peeks over the seat curiously.
"Tattoos?" Ally asks brightly.
"I know a guy," Lauren adds.
Camila shoots her a flat look, making her shrink away.
"Okay, no to the tattoo then."
"What about a party?" Ally suggests, but then immediately frowns. "Not that I know of any parties happening this exact weekend."
"We could try to get some alcohol," Normani finally speaks, which makes them all burst into nervous giggles. Normani has the decency to look a little chagrined. Camila glances at her curiously, but Normani rolls her eyes. "Not to get drunk."
"I don't have a fake I.D," Camila mutters.
"Clubbing?" Lauren suggests. They all sort of look at her silently. Dinah lets out an excited yelp, making Camila flinch. Lauren's gaze lands on her. "What?"
Camila shakes her head. "On second thought, I think alcohol sounds like the better idea."
Again, she meets Normani's eye, and she notices how apprehensive she is about these plans as well.
"What's the point of making a bucket list if you don't want to do anything on it?" Dinah whines from the very back seat. Camila glances at her through the rearview mirror, taking in the mocking expression.
Camila sighs in defeat, before silently agreeing.
And so whatever driving plans they had originally made immediately deviate in favor of looking for outfits.
The decision to head to the mall is out of her hands, and with a very feeble protest, Camila moves from the driver's seat, and allows Normani to take the reins again.
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The mall is packed. Not that she would expect anything less on a Saturday. Yet Camila still feels slightly worried upon seeing so many people in one place. It's been so long. Too long.
She thinks back to the very few times she went to the mall with the girls.
It was more of Dinah and Normani's thing back then. Dinah was a fiend for the mall, window shopping, getting her eyebrows done, flirting with boys in the food court. And it was normal occurrence to see Normani strolling out from each store, shopping bags dangling from her wrists.
Sometimes they'd even bribe Camila with the prospect of free food if she'd hold their bags for them the whole day. Well, Normani at least. She distinctly remembers Dinah saying she would buy her Mongolian BBQ but never actually doing it.
She catches sight of the BBQ stand, watching the workers fry up the prepared bowls for the eager customers.
Camila feels a painful twinge in her chest as she catches a whiff of the familiar scent. Remembering the times Dinah would compete with her stuffing their bowls up with as much food as they could. She remembers Normani's wrinkled nose of disapproval and Ally's nervous laughter, trying to distract the employees from reprimanding Camila and Dinah. She remembers Lauren offering half of her bowl (after Dinah's inevitable victory), claiming that she wouldn't be able to finish it anyway.
Even though Camila had known that wasn't entirely true.
People walk by them. Groups of friends. Families.
She takes them in and the same disconnect filters towards her. Outwardly, she thinks that perhaps their group does fit into this scene. Four friends hanging out on a Saturday at the mall.
She can't even remember the last time she did something this normal before summer rolled in. The teenaged kind of normal, like going to the mall. It so typical. The very same typical that she's missed in her life.
But the more she looks upon the groups of people she can't help but feel like a recluse.
It's the same thing all over again. The same ostracizing feeling that somehow creeps its way deep inside her heart every time she hangs out with her friends. The same doubt plaguing her thoughts. That maybe it's too soon to say friends. That maybe they're doing all of this out of pity, and really would rather be on the other side. That maybe she's just forever going to be on the outside looking in.
"You okay?" Lauren asks in an undertone, nudging her on the arm. Camila blinks away from her thoughts. She sees the concern forming in green eyes. In the pull of her eyebrows.
But Camila wills it away, swallowing down the discomfort. "I'm good."
Dinah doesn't share the same concern. Instead, choosing to press her face against the nearest window. "That top is cute. I need it."
Camila inhales sharply, holding in the deep breath. She clears her head, trying to take in the moment for what it is. A hangout.
It's like she's looking at the world from underwater. Being in some kind of see through water tank, and she can't break the transparent glass barrier.
But then Lauren loops an arm through hers, effectively pulling her away from her thoughts in one sweeping motion. Her attention instantly zeroes in on the press of their arms together.
She glances up to find Lauren looking straight ahead, so all she gets is a profile view.
She can't read the expression. Or the look in her vibrant, green eyes. Nor the way her bottom lip tucks snugly beneath her teeth.
It's distracting enough that Camila doesn't realize that she's broken up to the surface.
She lets out a shaky breath, turning her attention to the two walking beside her. Ally and Normani avert their gazes, but she doesn't miss the look they exchange with one another.
She questions it again - what Normani and Ally think of them. Do they suspect anything? Would they mind?
It's several minutes later, after deciding what store to go to, that she realizes she doesn't really care.
They enter the shop Dinah had been hungrily staring at.
Ally chatters away, gushing at nearly every clothing rack while Camila hangs back. She watches the girls scour the store.
Before she knows it, they're scurrying her over to the changing room.
Camila feels a fond smile form on her face. Normani had visibly brightened. And Camila wonders how long it had been for Normani too. To just be – normal.
It feels good. So good that perhaps she can forgive them for stuffing her inside the fitting room to fight with this dress.
She gets back to her struggling. Huffing, as she slips the dress up into place. The zipper gives her more trouble than what it's worth. After a few minutes of arm aching reaching she stops, slumping against the wall and glowering at herself in the mirror. She pushes her stomach out for good measure, watching as the fabric strains against her belly.
"Wow, so attractive," Camila snaps at her reflection.
She lets herself wallow in self pity, until she hears Dinah's voice from the other side of the cubicle.
"Are you done yet?"
She sighs deeply, before poking her head out of the changing room. Dinah looks at her impatiently, gesturing to the pile of dresses beside her.
"You still have these to try on!"
Camila groans, two seconds away from ripping off the dress she's wearing and throwing it at Dinah, when Lauren shuffles by carrying another pile of dresses.
"Can you help me?" Camila asks.
Eyebrows knit together for a moment, before Lauren sets the pile down.
The door closes behind her with a loud snap. It's startling but not as much so as the feeling of Lauren's hands on her. She feels fingertips brush against her exposed skin as she fiddles with the zipper.
"It's stuck," Lauren murmurs.
Camila rests her forehead against the mirror, an exasperated chuckle falls from her mouth. "Well yeah, that's why we're here."
She lifts her head and catches Lauren's eyes roll in their reflection.
Lauren's lips tilt into a soft smile. When she feels the brush of her fingertips again, she shivers. It doesn't go unnoticed by Lauren.
"Cold?"
Camila clears her throat awkwardly. "Uh, yeah."
Lauren doesn't comment any further, but Camila suspects that she knows exactly how riled up she is beginning to feel.
"How does it look?" Camila asks, watching her expression with rapt attention. She catches Lauren's eyes dip down to her ass.
She squirms a little under the attention, feeling the heat pool across her cheeks.
Lauren glances up at her and flushes when she realizes she's been caught.
"Good," Lauren mutters. "You look good."
"I look like a stripper."
This seems to break Lauren's awkwardness as a soft chuckle falls out. "That's a bad thing?"
"No," Camila responds quickly. "I mean I don't know. I don't want to know." She adds at the smirk on her face.
Lauren hovers behind her. Encroaching up on her personal space, making the room stuffier than before. Yet Camila doesn't seem to mind. Not when her heart is beating in an encouraging manner and her stomach is fluttering in anticipation.
She doesn't actually feel Lauren's body pressed into hers, but there's a tug deep in her belly that lets her know that they're nearly touching. The miniscule gap only further deepens the urge to lean back against her. She feels the pull, like some stupid kind of magnetic pull and the delay is only intensifying the urge.
A trembling sigh falls from Camila's lips
The atmosphere in the room slithers into a familiar one. A painstakingly familiar one. One that's lingered in the back of her mind since the last time she and Lauren had alone time. Proper alone time.
It's a slow foggy moment before Camila realizes that this is the first time they've actually been alone since –
"I'm still on your mom's shit list aren't I?" Camila breathes out shakily.
It doesn't look as if Lauren registers what she's saying. But then she blinks, and pulls away slightly. The subject change serves to clear Camila's mind (though she really thinks it has more to do with her irrational fear of Lauren's mother).
Neither she nor Lauren make any further comment, as she steps out of the room.
Camila blushes, adjusting the top part of her dress, making it ride up. After a while she gives up.
Normani actually smirks.
"It fits!" Ally exclaims, clapping her hands.
That's an understatement.
Camila begins to get the sneaking suspicion that this whole trip was an elaborate ruse to coerce her into shopping. If the fact that the rest of the girls have neglected to purchase anything wasn't an obvious indication, it's the fact that Ally had insisted on buying her outfit.
Maybe it should bother her. That it can be construed as them babying her, holding her hand through this process, but it doesn't feel that way.
They're trying.
And it's good enough for her.
.
.
.
.
Next Saturday approaches faster than Camila would have liked. She'd spent the remainder of the week chastising herself for even including something like that on her list. Something completely out of her comfort zone.
At the mention of it, her parents' eyes nearly bulged. She was waiting for the refusal. She anticipated the lecture. But when she dropped the fact that Normani and Ally were also going, it was as if she had said two angels had descended from heaven to guide her on a holy journey.
It's a little weird knocking on Lauren's door now, after spending so many days climbing in through her window. But when Clara answers the door, Camila is grateful for her decision.
"Big brother is watching," Dinah murmurs, as Clara calls Lauren down from her room.
"Hey," Lauren greets with a flash of a smile. It's bright, teeth gleaming that all Camila manages is a returning lopsided grin.
Clara clears her throat behind them. At the sound, Lauren freezes. The smile immediately falls and is replaced with tight purse of the lips. Without saying a word, Lauren reaches forward to grab Camila's hand. Before she can even offer a greeting, Camila is tugged away, stumbling over her feet to keep up with Lauren's rapid pace.
She can feel the frustration oozing before Lauren. She can see it in the way Lauren stride turns more into a stomp.
Once they reach her room, Camila feels like she can breathe.
"I didn't know your mom was gonna be home," Camila says. Lauren rolls her eyes, falling into her bed with an indignant huff.
"Yeah she's had someone else cover the detention shift all week," Lauren grumbles.
Camila tries to picture Clara overseeing afterschool detention in high school. The chilling intense gaze that Lauren has so beautifully inherited filters into her mind. It reminds her of the day she and Lauren were caught in that uncompromising position.
A memory Camila is actively trying not to remember.
"So more mother-daughter time?" Camila probes as she takes a seat next to Lauren.
Lauren falls back, arms outstretched against the bed, reaching to grab the nearest pillow and pushing it into her face. A gesture that clearly gave the kill me now impression. Something Camila was all too familiar with.
But she takes advantage of Lauren's covered face, as her eyes travel the expanse of Lauren's body in this new position, lingering a few moments on the exposed sliver of her pale stomach. Camila swallows thickly, before stretching out to adopt a similar position, leaning her weight on her elbow.
"Please." She hears Lauren's muffled scoff. "She's just slowly trying to ruin my life."
"I doubt that." Camila moves to grab the pillow.
"She's has me on a short leash," Lauren huffs.
"How short?" Camila teases.
Both of their attention turns to the wide open door.
The comment finally snaps her out of the playful mood as the realization of how Clara could just walk in any second and misconstrue this as another uncompromising position.
Camila immediately clears her throat and shuffles away. Lauren snorts at the growing gap.
"I guess it shouldn't matter," Camila mutters awkwardly as she returns to her spot. Though now she realizes there's an uncomfortably distracting, short distance between them. One that she probably should've been more aware of from the beginning. "We're not doing anything inappropriate right now."
"No," Lauren agrees.
"And friends lay in each other's beds all the time," Camila continues. Her tone turns defensive when she hears Dinah scoff in the background. "Waiting for their friends to arrive. To get ready.."
"Have fun explaining that to her," Lauren says, rather sourly.
Camila blanches.
"I'm kidding. Kind of. It's not her I'm entirely concerned about. She's threatening to tell my dad about what she walked in on," Lauren mutters. "If my dad finds out it's just gonna turn into this big thing."
Camila hums. She folds her arm, and leans down upon it like a pillow. Her eyes roam Lauren's face, taking in the upsetting crinkle between her eyebrows. She feels her heart tug at the upset tension that has fallen over Lauren at the mention of her parents.
It's a surprisingly sore subject and Camila wants to ask. It's surprising how much she wants to know. She wants to know why Lauren, who used to speak so fondly of her mother and father, visibly recoils from the mere mention of them. But she's gripped in silence, staring at her friend and the disappointed pull of her lips.
And she remembers the years they've spent laying beside each other just talking. Venting. About what a stupid boy did or didn't do. Or the first F's they got on a test. Or the way their parents had scolded them for something they'd done.
Camila doesn't even really realize what she's doing until her fingers are already upon Lauren's face, thumb smoothing out the knit of her eyebrows. She lingers there, fingertips moving to trace the arch of her eyebrow. The warm skin flushes beneath her touch, inviting another gentle caress, as her finger traces down the length of her nose.
She feels Lauren's slow breath against the palm of her hand.
Lauren's eyes flicker up to her and the look makes her still in her movements.
Camila's hand falls away at her cheek, pulling it away abruptly. She already feels herself scooting away.
"Sorry," Camila mutters, her cheeks run hot. She suddenly feels out of place laying beside Lauren. The room is too hot. The space is too confining.
Her heart is pounding heavily. She knows Lauren is staring at her; she can feel her eyes burning holes into the side of her already hot face.
Camila coughs awkwardly, scooting even farther. "Old habit I guess."
"It's okay," Lauren responds softly. "I used to like when you did that. It's – nice."
Camila gets the distinct impression that it's anything but just nice. Especially when Camila glances down at her to find Lauren staring up at her with a mixture of confusion and apprehension and something else Camila can't quite distinguish (and doesn't exactly want to spend so much time trying to distinguish).
"So, when you say a big thing..." Camila averts her gaze again, glowering up at the ceiling. She swallows thickly, hoping that Lauren gets the hint. "How big is big?"
Lauren's scoff makes Camila feel safe enough to turn back and look at her.
She still seems upset, but more annoyed rather than angry. Camila bites the inside of her cheek to hold back the smile.
"Like the whole interrogation disguised as a family dinner kind of big," Lauren says with sigh. "I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to do some kind of intimidation tactic."
Camila laughs nervously. "What's the worst he can do? Scare me with one of your baseball bats?"
Lauren's scowl turns into a smirk as she meets Camila's gaze. "I forgot about that."
Camila shrugs. "Your dad's gonna have to get a little more creative to scare me away." Camila pauses as she suddenly remembers something. "Now that we're on the subject of dinners, my family also kind of wants you to have dinner with them – us. I've been avoiding bringing it up."
"Why?"
"Because they're embarrassing," Camila snaps.
Lauren rolls her eyes. "I've known your parents for years, Camz. You think they're going to pull out the baby pictures? I've already seen them. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm in some of them."
"Married," Dinah mumbles from the computer chair.
Camila ignores the comment, but not before shooting a withering glare in her direction.
"It's not that," Camila sighs, moving so that she lays on her back. "I'm pretty sure my parents are worried you're going to, like, break my heart or something," Camila mutters offhandedly.
Lauren is quiet for a long moment. It unnerves Camila and suddenly she begins to feel that she's said too much. With an awkward cough, she sits up, moving away from Lauren's intense stare.
"They do that a lot," Camila goes on, trying to feign nonchalance. "Worry too much." Camila sighs. "Worry all the time, actually."
At the somber tone in her voice, Lauren sits up beside her.
"My parents don't worry enough," Lauren whispers. Green eyes glued to the carpeted floor. "At least not for the right reasons."
Camila wants to say something. She wants to reach out, clasp her hand in the same easy manner that Lauren does the second Camila is upset. Her hand curls into a tight fist at her side and she hesitates.
She doesn't know why she hesitates.
Her phone vibrates in her pocket before she can continue with her internal debate. Camila glances down at the display after opening the message.
"Ally and Normani are here."
Whatever residual tension that lingers between them dissipates when they join them in Lauren's room.
.
.
.
They arrive to the club in one piece. Dinah is buzzing with excitement beside her. But Camila can't exactly reciprocate. She's nervous. Almost two seconds away from feeling like throwing up.
Camila eyes the entrance skeptically, watching as the girls pull out their ID's. She remembers the last time she felt this way – this mixture of fear and adrenaline. Dinah had forced her to walk through the haunted maze down at school. And with whatever little pride and courage she had left, she'd entered the haunted house. She promised never to do so again, despite Dinah's constant teasing.
She flashes her very real ID the attendant, before he gives her the okay to pass through.
Camila doesn't really know what to expect, but once she steps inside she begins to think that perhaps the movies really did get it right with how the idea of clubbing is supposed to go. She watches with wide eyes, feeling like she's just stepped into an episode of Jersey shore.
The music is loud, with a heavy bass rattling against her skull. She can feel the vibrations of sound against her body, thrumming through her veins.
The room is dark, strobe lights flickering against the walls and people, creating an almost kaleidoscope effect. The lights become blinding after Camila finds herself staring at one for too long. She blinks rapidly, turning her attention back to the crowds of people.
She thinks that maybe she would enjoy it had she not been feeling so incredibly lost in the atmosphere.
She glances up at the screen and sees the typical sexualized pop video. She watches the music video for a moment, watching the singer dip and dive.
This was the type of song she could picture Dinah bumping her speaker to in her room. She could picture Ally humming to the background noise as she kneaded cookie dough in Dinah's kitchen, Normani dancing to it when it comes on the car radio on their nightly snack runs. Lauren listening to it on her iPod while they all studied, denying she ever liked it.
Camila's chest twists slightly as the images flicker like an obscure, dusty old viewfinder.
Her gaze shifts over to Dinah, head already bopping to the beat, looking around in excitement. Camila can almost feel it.
Almost.
"Come on, let's go upstairs," Lauren shouts in her ear, shaking her out of her thoughts. She gestures to the foot of a staircase that Camila barely makes out in the dim lighting. Ally and Normani are already waiting. "More room," Lauren adds at her confusion.
Lauren's hand is at the small of her back, guiding her up the stairs. She can't help but think back to the concert. Lauren did the same thing then. Perhaps it was an unconscious thing. Or maybe Lauren did this to all the girls.
She follows them up the stairs. There are less people but not much compared to the downstairs floor. The bar is larger with bright neon backlights, highlighting the different liquor bottles on the shelf.
Camila lets out a sigh of relief, as she settles closer to her friends.
She sways on the spot awkwardly, eyes flickering over to Normani who has naturally picked up the beat of the song.
Ally holds their hands up in the air as she attempts to spin Camila. Having to stretch on her tippy toes and Camila having to crouch beneath her outstretched arm. After a successful spin Camila stumbles into Lauren who laughs near her ear. She feels hands at her hips, steadying her.
A shiver trickles across her body as she feels the vibration of laughter against her hair. Hot palms over the thin material of her dress become more than distracting that she has to push herself away.
She turns to Ally, finding her friend throwing her head back and giggling at Camila's wobbly recovery. Normani looks upon them, the sporadic lights dancing across her amused face.
Though Camila tries to pick up the upbeat rhythm from the dancers beside her, she can't help but let her attention linger on Lauren moving beside her.
She's beautiful, Camila thinks dimly, frustratingly so. In that kind of way that one can't help but just stop and stare for a moment.
And Camila thinks that maybe she should care that she's stopped dancing to just stare at Lauren. That it's stupid and someone is going to notice her inept ability to just fit in like a normal person. But she can't help it.
The desire to voice her thoughts have burned in the back of her throat since she suppressed them on Lauren's porch step. And it's even more difficult to restrain her inappropriate thoughts when Lauren can just do the whole beautiful thing so effortlessly.
She's alluring beneath the dark lights, reminding Camila briefly of the night of the concert. How dark Lauren's eyes were bathed in the neon lights of the hallway. Casting that attractive shadow across her pale face.
It all sort of comes back in slow, heavy waves. The memory of Lauren so close. The heat of the moment. The taste of her lips.
Camila swallows thickly, averting her gaze. A short-lived attempt because in the next second she's transfixed again.
Lauren's hips sway to the beat sensually, dipping and swerving in a languid rhythm that leaves Camila breathless. Lauren runs her hands across up waist, trailing around her breasts, caressing her neck, until fingers tangle into her hair.
She's mesmerized with the movements, eyes tracing every curve Lauren's hands have stroked. Suddenly wishing the sweaty palms at her sides were the ones touching her.
The song noticeably changes, dipping into something with a heavier, sensual bass. The air around them shifts into something sexual. And perhaps that's the reason Camila finds herself tuning Ally, Normani and even Dinah out, as her attention focuses solely in on Lauren.
Green eyes finally lock on to her. They're dancing beneath the strobe lights. Camila's sure Lauren's got other people captivated. She doesn't know how she does it. How she manages to make something so small as a dance so sensual.
Lauren is up close before she fully registers what's going on.
"Are you going to stand there or dance with me?" Lauren asks. There's a teasing bite that snaps Camila into abrupt focus. She blushes and is thankful for the darkness of the club so that Lauren can't see just how red her face feels.
"Uh, yeah," Camila stammers. She steps closer into Lauren's face eagerly. "It's just – I don't really know what I'm doing."
Lauren snorts. "Most people here don't know what they're doing." She gestures to those around them. Camila takes a moment to observe. With an embarrassing realization, she notices that many couples around them are grinding.
"Dancing, right," Camila murmurs. She reaches out hesitantly. Lauren grabs her hands, and plants them upon her waist.
"Like so," Lauren says with a laugh. She steps closer. Camila secretly thanks Dinah for the coercion to go with the heels because now she's about the same height as Lauren.
Camila follows her lead. It isn't until Camila's knee accidentally brushes Lauren's that she twirls her around and presses into Camila's back. She feels hands trail down her arms until they grab her own hands, interlocking their fingers as they rest upon her waist. Camila feels herself quake, the fiery contact makes a wave of arousal flare up and down her body.
Okay, okay, calm down, breathe.
She feels Lauren's face near her ear.
"Fun right?" Lauren asks.
Camila swallows thickly. "Fun."
"Or," Lauren continues. The sudden movement leaves her dazed, still trying to grasp the feeling of Lauren's body so close to hers, that she's not prepared for Lauren to spin her around again and press her back into Camila.
Her arms are like jelly when Lauren pulls them around her, making Camila hold her in a snug grip. She gets a face full of Lauren's hair. It's almost suffocating. She's drowning. Senses on such high alert that she can't even concentrate fully on the fact that she can feel Lauren's ass through the stupidly thin material of her dress.
This is Lauren in her element, Camila slowly realizes. Confident Lauren. Charming Lauren. Seductive Lauren. Some kind of black widow version that slowly reels in her prey before making her attack.
It's a sluggish thought when she finally acknowledges that she isn't ready.
She was never ever really ready.
As if sensing her sudden blunder of infatuation, Lauren tilts her head to peek back at her.
"Don't think so hard. Just go with the music. Just..." Lauren pauses, putting her hands on top of Camila's and moving them to her waist. "feel."
It's all too much. It shouldn't feel this nice. It shouldn't leave her desperately wanting more. To feel more. To touch more. Lauren's hands linger on her waist and she wills herself not to move her hand lower. It's hardly appropriate. And the girls were right there. But Lauren is there, and she's so close to her, so willing. So encouraging.
Heat pools in the pit of her stomach, urging her to just touch. To just – feel.
Her hands move on their own accord, skimming along Lauren's sides, tracing the curve of her hip, drifting dangerously lower. Her fingers rake against the thin material of her dress, catching on the seam.
Lauren doesn't make any further comments. And for a moment, Camila thinks that maybe she's doing this whole thing wrong. That maybe her touch is too clumsy and Lauren is just too nice to say anything. But when Camila flattens her palms against her the planes of her stomach, Lauren sinks further into her embrace.
Lauren's hand comes to tangle itself in her hair, coaxing her closer until Camila buries her face in the crook of her neck. She inhales deeply, lips nearly brushing the soft skin. If she moved closer, she could be kissing her. She lets out a ragged breath at the thought, but refrains from moving her mouth.
Yet the more the dance went on, the more Camila begins to question her decision to keep her mouth to herself.
Lauren spins around until they're facing each other again. Pressed so tightly their foreheads flush. She can feel Lauren's heavy breathing against her face. it's all together too overwhelming and not enough.
She swallows thickly, attempting to focus in on the lyrics of the song. Which doesn't really help, considering how repetitive it is. It isn't a song meant for deep lyricism and witty wordplay.
It definitely doesn't help that with every hit of the beat, Lauren grinds closer.
It's not until several songs later that Camila gets some sort of reprieve. Lauren had pulled away to go use the bathroom.
Her body is humming, and she knows it has very little to do with the actual dancing. But rather the feel of Lauren's body so close, from the hairsbreadth gap to the flushed press against her.
She still feels the sting of fingernails digging into her scalp, the soreness of her hair being tugged around Lauren's deft fingertips.
Camila swallows down her building arousal, trying to focus on looking for Lauren.
She had told her she'd be back, told her wait for her. But the dark look she shot Camila told her otherwise. Her stomach twists as she pushes open the bathroom door.
Her eyes take in the muted light, flickering from the strobe above the wall mirror. She glances at herself in the mirror, studying the flushed fade and ruffled hair.
As the last few club goers stumble out, Camila turns to look around the stalls. She waits until the doors close after the girls before calling out Lauren's name.
Perhaps she had misread this entire situation and Lauren hadn't wanted to initiate some sort of sexy times. Maybe she just needed to pee.
God I'm starting to sound like Dinah.
As if remembering, Camila spins around to find her best friend watching her with a judgmental face.
"Y'all are nasty," Dinah snaps. "Have you seen this bathroom? I'm sure there are STD's all over this place."
Before Camila can respond, one of the stalls opens, and a hand grabs her, yanking her inside.
She might've screamed had she not been pressed up so roughly against the wall of the stall by the very person she'd been looking for.
Relief floods her system. But it's soon diluted by the previous thick tension throbbing throughout her body.
"I told you I'd be back," Lauren scolds. But it sounds too teasing, too playful, too sexy to just be admonishing.
Camila feels her lips tug into a smirk as she leans back more comfortably against the wall. "Really? That seemed more like an invitation to follow you."
Lauren's eyes dart between hers. The stare is too much for her to hold so she lets her gaze travel lower. Tracing the firm press of Lauren's painted lips. The clench of her jaw. Down to the vein along her neck as she swallows audibly.
Camila finds herself mimicking the action.
Her heart is still hammering from the dance floor. She's sure she looks a sweaty mess. As does Lauren. Her cheeks are flushed and there are a few strands of hair stuck to her forehead.
All Camila can think below the hazy breath of lust sweeping between them is how beautiful she is. And how much she wished she had voiced it that day. Today. Tomorrow. Every day.
Lauren's arms come to trap against the door on either side of her head. There's a significant distance between their faces but Camila still feels completely towered over. And that...does things to her.
She swallows thickly, watching as green eyes scour her face, drinking in her face the same way Camila is. Heavy intent, sharply focused.
An electrifying sensation surges from her beating chest, to her flopping stomach and down to the ache she's been feeling since the dancing.
She bites her lip, warming the dry flesh, catching the way Lauren's eyes fall down to the action.
Hot, shallow breaths fall against her face, making her swallow again. It tastes like Lauren and Camila can safely say that she knows what Lauren tastes like. She knows the way Lauren's lips move against hers. How soft they are. What her tongue feels like.
It's all catching up to her as she presses her palms flat against the wall. They curl into tight fists, itching to touch. Begging to tangle in Lauren's damp hair or dip beneath the hemline of her dress.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Lauren's strained voice sends a tingle down Camila's spine.
Camila's fist tightens against the door.
"No," she agrees in a shaky whisper. "we shouldn't."
"I shouldn't have pulled you in here," Lauren murmurs thickly.
"I shouldn't have followed you," Camila adds. Lauren comes to chew her bottom lip, and it's Camila's turn to be swayed. She watches as Lauren's lip is pulled by white teeth, stretching in such a delicious way that Camila makes a soft noise.
Lauren notices because then she leans closer. So close that Camila can practically hear the weighted breathing falling from Lauren's nose. Brushing against her face, caressing her reddened cheeks.
And when Lauren speaks again her tone is rough. "I shouldn't want to do these things to you. Not now. Not during PF time."
The stupid name fizzles out into the background. And all Camila is aware of is that growing ache between her legs and the urge to kiss her.
"What do you want to do to me?" Camila presses.
Lauren moves in closer and for a blissful moment Camila expects a kiss, but Lauren's lips brush against her cheek. Her nose traces against her cheekbones, inhaling, dragging a trail to her ear.
"Everything," Lauren husks, lips brushing against her ear. Camila sighs, sagging against the door slightly. Lauren's hair tickles her face and Camila is overwhelmed with her scent. She's ridiculously turned on. Her body hums with arousal, urging her to look for some kind of relief.
Camila's hands move away from the door she'd been unconsciously scratching. They come to seek refuge upon Lauren's waist.
Lauren inhales sharply at the contact.
The heavy bass pounds in the background. A muffled reverberating matching her hammering heart.
Laurens arms create a barrier, hiding them away from everything. Forcing them inside an intimate bubble within the bathroom stall.
They're so close that it's hard to not look at Lauren. Her green eyes are smoldering, hot melting into a dark emerald liquid that makes Camila shiver. It's captivating, drawing her in away from it all. Away from the dingy walls of the bathroom stall and the obnoxiously loud music. Away from the click of heels and the door opening and closing.
It's so distracting she barely notices the tension in Lauren's hands against the stall. White knuckles straining against her fist.
"Is this okay?" Lauren asks. Camila almost doesn't hear her at first because her voice is so low.
Her arms bend as she leans in closer. Camila feels her body press up against it.
"Yes," Camila sighs, feeling slightly delirious.
It feels reminiscent to the night of the concert – this insatiable hunger humming throughout her body. Dancing throughout her bloodstream to the beat of her rapidly drumming heart.
The ache below her waist is insistent and demanding, dragging her thoughts away until all she can truly think about is relieving it. Settling it down. Dousing this heat enflaming her.
Lauren's eyes are on her, glowering unabashedly at her mouth.
She licks her lips in response and promptly feels her core quiver when Lauren's heated gaze tracks the movement.
And then it happens. Lips crash into hers. Hungrily. Overwhelmingly. She feels herself inhale sharply as Lauren moves with intense fervor against her. It's dizzying and hot and Camila almost loses her balance but Lauren presses her body against hers, pinning her to the wall. Securing her.
The pace seems to build tenfold the moment Lauren shifts, until one of her thighs slots between Camila's. A low groan falls between them. She's too caught up to care from who exactly. It could have been either one of them in their shared space. Sharing the same heavy air. An exchange of pants.
Lauren's mouth falls away, as she moves to kiss along her jaw, before lips trail down her neck. A deliciously familiar routine, one that has Camila wilting against the stall and tilting her head to give Lauren more access.
Her hands tangle in Lauren's hair, fingers already tugging the long locks. She feels the rumble of a groan against her skin, before the wet kisses shift into rough sucking.
An embarrassingly loud moan falls from her lips. Loud enough that she's pretty sure someone outside of the stalls can hear and know exactly what was going on.
"We're in a bathroom stall," Camila mutters.
It's dirty and sloppy. And Camila is sure under normal circumstances she'd be opposed to a quick hookup in a public bathroom of a club. She feels, rather than hears, Lauren making a noise of affirmation against her neck. For a moment she gets lost again in the feeling of Lauren's mouth, of her hands, of her body so flushed against her, of her thigh so snug between hers. For a moment, she doesn't even care.
"Take me home."
Lauren's lips still on her neck and then she's pulling away.
Camila runs a hand through her hair, leaning back against the stall wall. She takes Lauren in, sweaty hair, flushed face and red lips. And it was all the result of her.
Lauren meets her eye and it seems as if she's thinking the same thing.
She catches Lauren's eyes drop down to her neck and she knows there's bound to be a bunch of bite marks.
Green eyes flicker back up to her.
"Are you sure?" Lauren's voice is gravelly. Her toes curl in her shoes at the sound. They stand there, for a few more moments sizing up one another.
She nods once.
"Okay."
Camila yanks the door open, stumbling out with Lauren hot on her heels.
"Please tell me you didn't just lose your virginity in the bathroom," Dinah whines as she meets Camila. "That's so tacky."
She's only half listening. Too distracted by Lauren's hand in hers. Too fixated on the ache simmering below her waist. Too concerned with getting home as soon as possible.
"Let's find Normani and Ally," Lauren says in about as much as rush as Camila feels.
.
.
.
They scour the club together. And though it proves to be a troubling feat to distinguish people beneath the neon lights, they collectively come up with nothing. Which is beyond frustrating and Camila begins to get agitated with the fact that when she wants the two to pop out of nowhere they choose now to vanish.
Lauren fishes out her phone and the brightness of the screen reflects both of their frustrated expressions.
"Ally just texted," Lauren says, squinting at her phone. "She says they're outside."
She bubbles with excitement.
Lauren intertwines their fingers, before pulling her through the crowd. They maneuver their way around the dancers, some more sloppier than others, across the bar and head straight for the exit.
They find the girls near the entrance. But the sight doesn't exactly bring any sort of relief to Camila. Whatever anticipation that had been buildings is effectively expunged the moment she sees them.
Normani's head is bowed, leaning against the brick wall. Ally beside her is in tears.
Normani sighs heavily through her nose, before looking up to meet their eyes. She glances at Camila and almost looks guilty. Which makes Camila feel guilty for even catching it.
Normani's eyes then flicker to Ally. Her eyebrows knit together softly and she makes a soft noise as she reaches out to grab Ally's hand.
"Don't do that," Normani mutters. More tears brim in Ally's eyes and Camila suddenly feels uncomfortable standing before the two of them. "I'm okay."
Ally had always been the crier of the group. Always the one to blatantly wear her heart on her sleeve. It was very clear whenever things were bothering her. Her face was always open and welcoming.
Camila remembers one time she had burst into tears when she realized that she had accidentally stepped on her dog's foot. Not that was completely unusual. Camila's sure she'd probably cry too.
Ally blinks rapidly, trying to brush away the glaze, before clearing her throat. She glances over to Camila and Lauren, finally notice them. She raises her chin stiffly.
"I'm gonna go get the car," she states. There's finality to her tone. Camila slowly realizes that Ally's cutting their night early. Not that she minds. But Ally stares at them almost challengingly, as if waiting for some kind of dissent.
"I'll go with you," Lauren volunteers, breaking the strange tension. She shoots Camila an apologetic look. But she understands.
"I'll wait here," Camila offers, eyes flickering over to Normani.
Once the pair of them leave, Camila sidles up to Normani. She gives her a once over, studying the pained expression riddling the crease between her eyebrows.
Normani looks shaken.
"Sorry," Normani mutters, but it's so low Camila has to crane to hear it. "I didn't mean to ruin your night."
"You didn't," Camila reassures quickly. She fidgets with her fingers, watching as Normani continues to shake like a leaf. Camila wishes she had a sweater to offer her.
"Are you hurt?" Camila asks finally. Her heart hammers in her chest and it's a completely different reason that the one in the bathroom stall.
Normani doesn't answer right away, instead stares at the passing cars.
"I just thought for a moment I saw..." she trails off, but then shakes her head. "The music was just too loud."
Camila feels her heart sink. She looks up at Dinah and sees the frown forming on her face.
Normani shakes her head again. "Never mind. It's nothing."
She doesn't say anything more, instead slumping against the brick wall. A long sigh falls from her frowning mouth. They stay in relative silence, the only noise coming from the chatter of the club goers walking by.
She brings a hand to her forehead.
And Camila recognizes her face. She knows the deep pull of her eyebrows like the back of her hand. She understands that lost, far off look. Because it's one that she's felt at her very core. She's lived it for the past year, searching for something and coming up empty.
Camila studies Normani, eyes roaming across the tightness in her face. The frown marring her stained lips. The pinched pull of sculpted eyebrows.
Her eyes are closed. And for a moment Camila thinks back to the morning she had caught Normani dancing. The same closed off expression shows itself. An impenetrable glass.
She doesn't know how long she stares, but it must be for a noticeably long time, because then Normani inhales sharply and glances up at her.
Camila tries to convey her understanding. To mold her face into something of reassurance. But her lips feel too heavy. Her eyes feel too watery. Everything feels too much.
Normani's eyes narrow as they scour her face. Studying. Taking her in. Camila lets her.
"I'm fine, Camila."
Camila flushes.
Normani's face clears over, rapidly turning into a blank slate. It's so fast Camila thinks she would have missed it had she blinked.
She watches Normani leaned up against the wall. She takes in the dark make-up around her eyes, wondering how much is covering up the bags beneath her eyes. She wonders how many times Normani's hidden her expression. How she's developed the art of concealment.
Normani's words ring in her ears. And Camila can see it. Normani in college. Normani alone in the classroom. Thoughts and feelings bottled away.
It would be admirable if it wasn't so sad. Camila realizes it hurts. And not in the way she's been so accustomed.
"Grab her hand," Dinah instructs.
Her eyes fall to the hand curled up into a tight fist at her side.
The car pulls up, snatching up Camila's chance. Normani gives her a wistful look before rising and heading towards Ally's car.
Camila follows, feeling like she's slowly fall back into herself again. The longing ache deep in the pit of her stomach. The doubt creeps in as she watches Normani hold out the door for her with a sad smile which Camila feels carving into her chest. The out of place sensation hits her, making her feel more and more estranged the more she watches.
It was too good to be true.
She knew the productive feeling could only be short lived.
Everything in her life is so short lived.
.
.
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A/N: i'm gonna keep this short bc i'm late af rn.
thank you for reading and still reading and still sticking with me and my inconsistencies.
next chapter is coming soon!!! heres the preview: https://instagram.com/p/BifNuhSlExy/
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