Professor C (camren)

10 - Nostalgia

There are days when you just know that it'd be one of those bad ones where everything just goes wrong and optimism would be nothing but a tiny, insignificant particle that could easily be ignored.

Lauren woke up with a pounding headache from staying up all night; reading about the topics of the three sets of projects Camila had left to be able to help the students. She had never hated graphs, bars and numbers so much in her life. What made it worse was the outcome of her research and the struggle to understand them all. Economics had never been as complicated as she remembered and she took two courses as electives back in college.

On top if it all, her eyes were sore. It wasn't the smartest to stay up, reading everything she could find from the bright screen of her phone in the midst of a dark room after going through over a hundred pages of books.

It was a Wednesday, the week after and Lauren still had two days to fulfill the duties vested upon her, which she tackled by studying since Monday afternoon. She had been so devoted on the task that she even dreamt of answering a Microeconomics test whereby she vividly remembers the first question, with which she woke up to.

What is the primary objective of firms?

"Maximizing profit." She mumbled indistinctly as her voice was muddled by a groan; hands shooting up to her rub her eyes and legs extending as far as they could go. There was a pause as Lauren drew a deep breath, body bracing for a yawn while her lips parted to release a deep exhale before she continued, slurring her next words. "Net profit is generated by deducting expenses from revenue. Hence, it's not revenue."

"I need coffee," were what the next words she said upon groggily checking the time on her phone. Of course, she bemoaned those words out amid the ache in her joints from sleeping in the same position all night.

"f**k. I hate studying."

Lauren had to get up. She'd developed a habit to rise an hour and a half before eight in the morning to compensate for shower and coffee time. Those are her two essentials to be able to function everyday.

Begrudgingly, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her twin-sized bed after she threw the thick duvet off. She slouched down as her eyes continued to flutter shut when the will to fight it is kept at a low. There was a desire to focus her hazy vision around the inclusion, but to no avail.

Her windowless room was nothing but blandly simple. It was similar to all her other rooms, except that one was a little too lackluster, even in terms of minimalist designs. Barren white walls meet old light brown carpeting; a bed pushed to one corner and a desk right by it that she used for its purpose and as a bedside table, and a closet/cabinet across the other side, next to the door.

There were no pictures, no little sweet notes she cherished, no letters and no posters. No nothing. There were clothes on the floor though, laundry that she had accumulated in two weeks.

Lauren pushed herself off the bed, charging towards the kitchen; pacing herself like a turtle in its 100s. She was probably slower. Her lifeless feet skid against the soft surface of the carpet, with no intention of being lifted up to even as low as an inch. In no time, she would have generated enough static electricity to zap a person painfully.

That would be a cool superpower.

Lauren checked the cupboards first, searching for a pack of coffee beans but remembered she'd ran out and was supposed to be grocery shopping the previous day. She was too engrossed in Economics, rather, too confused, that she'd march straight to her living room and read three textbooks they used in Camila's classes – forgetting about her chores in the process.

The sudden interest in the subject came from the previous Monday when students came up to the front of the class and ask her about their project that she was quite clueless about. She figured she'd get some "light" reading done which quickly turned into a crash course.

Lauren groaned, frowning her annoyance away as she watched her coffee maker with such envy. It was as if the greedy little machine didn't want to share its life giving, sweet, sweet nectar with her. She didn't want to sulk and decided on simply having milk, even when it's not remotely close to the beautiful serum that is caffeine.

Taking three steps to the right, she stood before the refrigerator and her vision was blessed with a picture of her and Pebble, smiling to the camera and squeezed together. It was right next to the little toddler's drawing of Lauren's portrait – or so she claimed. Strokes were wild and incoherent until they made the frame and structure of a person's face. The lady in it had black hair, green eyes and thick brows; she even wore red lipstick and that infamous widow's peak had been outlined with much precision a three year old could possess. At the bottom of the page, there was a lopsided "Mauwen" inscribed, traced in red crayon.

So, yes, it must be Lauren and Lauren loved it, she still does that the initial reaction was an adoring smile that made her hazy green eyes twinkle.

The little flame of happiness was easily taken away when she pulled the refrigerator door open and found a wilted apple, a bunch of spinach in a similar state, some salad dressing and condiments she had forgotten. She didn't even have milk and eggs.

"Dry cereal it is." She murmured dryly, faking a jovial smile upon closing the refrigerator door in defeat.

Lauren plopped down onto one of the two seats around her small square table that was pushed against the wall, by the pair of double hung windows on the opposite side of the little kitchen. The shimmering rays of the sun glistened against morning dew adorning the glass like sparkling crystals. It had rained hard that night, cooling the dawn into what Lauren found comfortable. It wasn't as frigid as the early mornings of winter and it was her favorite.

The only problem Lauren had with rain was puddles – pesky puddles that she'd have to leap over to get to the building's designated parking area, which was right across the street. The path that lead towards the asphalt lot, save for the concrete road, were a bed of withered grass. It wasn't just the weather that wilted its effervescent green leaves, the heavy foot traffic had paved it, and after an onslaught of rain, it'd be a perfect place for puddles.

Still craving for coffee, Lauren stormed towards the bathroom to shower faster than she usually does. She figured she'd grab coffee from a nearby café and to get there without getting late, she'd have to move fast. And so, she breezed through her morning routine like the Flash.

It was colder than the days prior but it looked like a good day except for the heavy clouds and still, Lauren couldn't focus on anything but her thoughts. Her head had been racing, sorting through the books of her mind to conjure up the chapters she read about Financial Economics, Camila's first class of the day. She'd have to worry about the topics concerning Microeconomics later.

Lauren wanted to help the students and not just answer them with an easy "I don't know". But, she felt as though she bit more than she could chew or Camila was simply showing her class the ruthless, and most likely evil, professor the whole of Indiana has heard of.

A hand holding the keys to her car, office, apartment building and unit; hoop loosely slipped through her thumb, Lauren thoughtlessly twirled the metal object around. The clanking noise of keys slamming against each other filled the otherwise, quiet space. The rumbling noise of cars and little drowsy voices, whining about school being too early would occasionally make an appearance and still Lauren didn't hear any of it.

It took successive jolts and the ringtone of her phone to shake Lauren out of her thoughts. Sure enough, as she attempted to leap over a puddle while reaching for her phone in her back pocket, she dropped her keys. The world was silenced as Lauren stood frozen; watching with great annoyance and defeat, as the thick, murky water very slowly and dramatically drowned the hoop and held it hostage.

It wouldn't have been much of a bother if the key fob to her Jeep wasn't attached to the actual key.

"Son of a dirty ass bitch." Lauren grumbled, crouching down to dunk her left hand in the puddle. She shook the excess water off before rushing back towards the building; head whipping to both directions just to avoid accidents and murmuring indistinct swear words that her mind could feed her.

Panting, Lauren hurriedly shoved the key to her unit, pushed it open and raced towards the bathroom. She climbed six flights of stairs, having less patience to wait for the elevator. Keys beneath running water, Lauren did her best to wash excess mud off and watched as the water turned brown. With great difficulty, she pried the key fob apart and again, flushed it with water.

Satisfied with the cleaning, Lauren proceeded to plug her blow dryer and attempted to rid of the excess water by the strong gust of hot wind. She would have tested if whatever she did worked but stopped when she found the time.

There goes the extra time she had. Upon the realization, Lauren released a frustrated huff to relieve the tightness in her chest despite the deep desire to scream at the top of her lungs. With little rationality left in her, she settled for retrieving the spare key and simply told herself she'd visit the dealership to have the damn thing checked.

On her way out of her room, Lauren found footprints, indentations of her boots that have apparently been dunked in mud. Looking down to her black lace-up boots riddled with wet dirt, she closed her eyes as her hand flew up to her head, lacing her fingers up through her mane.

"f**k it!" Lauren bellowed, stomping towards the frown door, having enough problems to deal with. The books in her backpack were beginning to weigh her down and she could feel a burning sensation on her shoulders were the straps are. "I get it, okay?! Today is not my lucky day! Hu-f*****g-rray!"

The next time Lauren trudged through her door, the elevator and the building entrance, she took her sweet time while taking deeper breaths in an attempt to level her breathing and trick her heart into thinking she had relaxed.

And it worked. Lauren made it to her car without dropping anything and maintaining the same dirt she carried with her boots. She had managed to shove the key in the ignition and just had time to switch it on when her phone went off again.

It's that stupid caller's fault she wouldn't have coffee. It's the same person's fault that she dropped her keys. And again, it's the caller's fault there's mud all over her carpeted floor.

Anger was rising in Lauren's body and it was suffocating her lungs and crowded her throat. If she had to hold everything in once again, she would definitely implode and that would be the worst possible scenario.

"What?!" Lauren snapped without thinking to check the caller's name, menacing eyes boring holes against the windshield. "This better be a good one"

It wasn't like her to simply let her emotions get to her. She was a counselor after all, a psychologist that was expected to stay still, maintain a steady poker face even when a person was retelling the most traumatizing moment of their lives. She'd often fought the urge to lunge at them and hold them tightly, tell them everything was going to be okay one day – be it tomorrow or in the next couple of years.

"Miss Lauren?" The familiar voice of a shaken woman spoke. It was the same one that Lauren had been dreading to hear from since finding Camila, or the other way around. Semantics.

Lauren figured, her decision to award the caller culpability was warranted. She didn't want to hear from her, and she had never spoken to her since retrieving those folders that had been idly lying on her coffee table for weeks.

"What is it now?" Lauren breathed, defeated. There was a part of her that wanted to apologize but the larger part of her just desperately wanted coffee and it's not even eight yet. It was 7:47 and now, she'd be late if she didn't get going.

"Uh...yes. When do-do you want to schedule the...um...the procedure?" There was an apparent apprehension in her tone, obviously not expecting how harsh the psychologist sounded.

"Yeah, I'm still thinking about it." Lauren answered with no hesitation. She dropped her head down to the top of the steering wheel, resting her forehead against it, and fighting the urge to draw back and aim with a little force.

"When can we expect to hear from you, though?"

"Look, I'll just call, okay?!" Lauren raised her voice as she picked her head back up, to refocus her death glare onto the innocent windshield that she could very well melt or run away from her. Her hands flew up to her forehead as she felt a sudden ache brought about by the tension in her emotional state. "I'm sorry but now is not a good time. I have a class teach...or something and I'd rather not be late."

It may have been the icing on her rude cake but Lauren didn't wait for an answer and simply dropped the call, throwing her phone onto the passenger seat where her backpack was. She had never lost control of temper in a while and that outburst was exhilarating to her.

In the wake of her break-up, Lauren thought she owed it to the world to be nice, to make up for the mistake she was still desperately trying to correct.

Minutes later, Lauren found herself running towards Camila's first class in a lecture hall that was thankfully close to her office. As expected, she was welcomed with a resounding greeting that definitely came from smiling lips. Laptop and cellphone in tow, the psychologist settled down onto the desk and figured, she'd answer e-mails from prospective students who have been notified of the lack of necessary documents.

It was the same drill for the next period, an hour and a half later for Lauren. It was time for Microeconomics, the most influential of the three courses she had spent her night reading about that it ended up in her dreams. The problem was, somnolence had claimed her body. She could barely stare at the oddly brighter screen, resulting in narrowed eyes but still fought through; reading a periodical from a new study in the field of Psychology. They're always so interesting to her but at that time, she could not even care less about it.

"Is there any way I could do this myself?" Rob timidly queried, prompting Lauren to look up as she blinked incessantly – attempting to look alive. The boy's voice was preceded by a set of cagy footsteps, distinct taps from his sneakers. "I think I got the hang of it. I can do it, Miss Lauren."

Scrunching her brows up, Lauren slightly c****d her head. "Why?"

"Everybody's grouped up." He answered with a shrug, averting Lauren's eyes.

Robert McIntyre had always been shy; Lauren knew that. The boy barely associated himself with the students in the school and the only person he was comfortable with was the woman he was talking to. It didn't help that students have been accusing Lauren of favoritism, which brought a little animosity into the boy's school life.

"I can ask them to squeeze you in." Lauren suggested through a small, understanding smile. "You're smart, Rob but I think working with these people would be great for you and for them – mostly for them. You did really well on your test."

Lauren had taken the liberty of going over the boy's test questionnaire the past week, hoping to help him with any problematic area. Her words elicited a broad grin from the boy and she could tell that Robert wanted nothing more than to celebrate his victory in a way or another. He could leap in the air or scream "yes" at the top of his lungs. He could keep his scholarship and it was only Camila's class that he was anxious about.

"I did?" He mumbled disbelievingly, voice kept low. "I really did? Are you kidding? You can't kid about this, Miss Lauren."

Nodding, Lauren hummed in affirmation; stifling a chuckle. "They would need you. Find your friends. I'll tell the professor about this later. But I'm pretty sure she knows about the class number."

"Thanks, Miss Lauren."

"Anytime, Rob."

Lauren went back to reading the article with great difficulty amid the hushed murmurs discussing the project that resounded within the lecture hall. Often times, she'd have to read the same sentence twice – granting she was lucky. She had mixed up words that made for incredibly incoherent sentences that only exacerbated her drowsiness.

Suddenly, the room was quiet – eerily quiet and Lauren could distinctly remember the click of metal bolts and plates that could only come from the door. The psychologist inquisitively lifted her head up, scanning the room and immediately finding wide, terrified gazes aimed at the door. Her curiosity brought her eyes towards their line of sight and there she found Camila, who wasn't supposed to be back until Monday.

Lauren unintentionally held her breath as her brows shot up in disbelief. Her heart's reaction to the lack of oxygen was to kick her ribs harder, maybe attempting to alert Lauren's consciousness of the danger she was putting herself in. However, she was more convinced that it wanted to kill her, instead.

Fear inundated her system amongst confusion, an odd sense of excitement upon seeing Camila, and that default sadness from the reality of their break-up. They were not in good terms, yet again, when Camila flew out to Seattle. Knowing that new version of the professor, Lauren was bracing for another argument.

Only now, they'd have an audience.

"May we step out for a moment, Miss Tremaine?" Camila's words came as rigid as Lauren remembered. What made it worse was the fact that very sentence was the first thing Camila had said to her on the first day of the spring semester.

With that, Lauren figured she was right for feeling terrified. Their conversation was already preceded by a terrible memory, but at least, it'd be away from curious pairs of eyes.

"Of course, Professor." Lauren choked out upon swallowing. She was grateful that her words never wavered despite it sounding quite submissive. That was more than acceptable.

Smiling towards the small crowd, Lauren set an extended index finger over her lips. She was quietly requesting for her students to control their voices while her body was screaming at her, yelling danger. Lauren's skin could feel the apprehension and her cheeks were already burning, ready to accept a hard slap.

"How did the tests go?" Camila queried upon seeing the door swing open.

"It went well." Lauren pursed her lips as she nodded, taking the time and diligence to close the timber structure with as little noise as possible. "I don't know if you've been to your office but the completed questionnaires are stacked with labels, like you requested."

By some strange phenomenon, Camila smiled gratefully. Somehow, Lauren was expecting a chorus of angels with trumpets or maybe being violently shaken up from a dream. It was that peculiar and Lauren's brows were inching closer, stitching together as she scrutinized Camila; to see if something had changed.

"Thank you...Lauren." Timidly, Camila bowed her head down and her eyes were immediately focused on her shoes.

Like a snap of a finger, Lauren's brows climbed up her forehead in utter disbelief. There was a magnanimous chance she was still sleeping and she was still journeying through the realms of unconsciousness. Economics was really messing her brain up and she was fighting the urge to reach forward and touch Camila to see if she was real.

She was still searching for the usually palpable tension whirling and enveloping them. If it wasn't plain and simple suffocating tension, it would be the kind that would inhibit their bodies to act upon carnal desires that wouldn't really be purely of relieving a compelling ache. It always meant something.

"Uh...yeah. N-No problem. It's-it's my job anyway." Lauren stammered, desperately clearing her throat in the hopes of playing the little – but very noticeable – hitch off.

There was a grin on Camila's lips, but it was not that of spite or a twisted satisfaction that she had rendered Lauren into an adorably flustered mess. It was that of adoration mixed with relief as she was almost sure she was close to bursting with the pressure clamping her entire body up.

For once, Camila was pleasant with no underlying enmity. She was just uncomfortable and that, too, was strange.

Camila was taking little steps – baby steps, albeit slower and particularly cautious, she was walking towards the right way.

"So...um...I don't know what kind of coffee you like but the woman at the café suggested the cappuccino; not too strong and not too sweet." She extended a shaky hand and offered the to-go paper cup of coffee to a very perplexed psychologist.

Lauren was just about ready to punch herself in the face just to convince herself that she had woken up that morning and suffered through all that bad luck only to be blessed with a version of the professor who had woken up on the right side of the bed. Within her, she was wondering if her soul had spoken to Camila and told her of her need for coffee. That thought elicited a small smile to form on her lips.

It was only then that Lauren noticed that Camila's hands were occupied. There was an obvious pressure in her paling fingers but it wasn't enough to squish the cup into spilling coffee all over the floor. Lauren interpreted the tension as that of Camila's discomfort at keeping up a friendly façade that she appreciated but found to be bittersweet. Regardless, she was quite entranced by the aroma of the roasted beans that she had only noticed then.

She really did fail at psychoanalyzing her ex-girlfriend. Unbeknownst to Lauren was Camila's nerves and fear that if she'd loosen her grip, her hands would tremble and the noticeable jolt would unearth the insecurities she had been suppressing.

"Oh, my god!" Lauren exclaimed, hands circling the cup and lifting it up to her nose and took a quick whiff. Her emotions were blocking her reservations. "You're a lifesaver, Ca-professor!" She bowed her head down in defeat, both cursing and commending herself for catching her fault before she could utter the name. "Sorry." She mumbled underneath her breath, concealing it by taking a sip of coffee.

"It's okay, Lauren."

Camila shook her head, regaining the amused little smile playing at her lips. For a moment, she had forgotten all about everything that had been riding on what she was about to say. She wouldn't admit it just yet but she was quite gratified of her decision to approach Lauren in a different light.

Camila had never forgotten how weightless she felt around the psychologist and just how beautifully Lauren handled her heart. For the nth time in the many years that had slipped by, she wished she could turn back time and wished to be blessed with the eyes that see Lauren's unshed tears of sorrow and the heart to feel Lauren's suppressed agony.

Lauren had given her so much and she had failed to show how much she appreciated it because she thought when she was ready to, she'd still have that chance.

Deciding on leaving the daunting past behind for the time being, Camila carried out the plan she'd conjured up while on the plane to Seattle and the entire duration of her stay there. Despite her attempts to stay calm and channel all her tenacity, she was disheartened at the thought of Lauren turning her down.

"You want to go grab lunch?" She mumbled quickly, fearing that she'd back out if she took her time. It was her turn to raise her cup to her mouth, hiding as much of her flushed face from view.

Lauren abruptly lifted her head up, wanting to confirm what she had just heard and she didn't just hear the words, she heard Camila's hesitation. Her gaped features was quite amusing and it painted the perfect picture of Lauren's bewilderment. Her pulse ignited with excitement as she was too certain that that opportunity would not rear its head anytime soon. Apparently, she was wrong.

"Wh...Are y-you serious? What about-"

Camila moved to reach for the door knob, careful not to bump into Lauren's shoulder and peeked her head in to find all horrified eyes on her, anticipating her words.

"Class is dismissed. You may stay within the lecture hall to work on your projects or do it on your own time so long as I receive all of them by Monday. Thank you." In her typical emotionless tone, Camila uttered in one huge breath; eradicating Lauren's concerns.

Normally, exhausted college students would be on their feet, celebrating their free time. But it was different around Camila. It was as if smiling or laughing or simply feeling great was prohibited and it was not in their intention to be on her bad side. None of them did so much as to tuck their things away – not while the professor's eyes were on them. The ruckus Scott Harrison caused reached every single ear within the campus; serving as a warning. It sent its message effectively.

"Now, about lunch?" Camila queried, raising her brows and looked at Lauren as if nothing had happened.

"Yeah...yeah. Let me just..." Lauren pursed her lips, choosing to end her stuttering problem by simply going in the classroom to retrieve her things.

Lauren looked to Camila and gave her a timid, cagy smile upon closing her laptop to make sure the professor understood that she was up for lunch with her inability to formulate an answer with words like normal people do. Camila had been observing her, maintaining her disinterested poker face that was slowly chipping away. She could see it before her eyes through Lauren's reaction.

"So...if any of you guys need anything; you know where my office is." Lauren addressed the students who still have been desperately trying to watch the two faculty members closely. She flashed them her bright and welcoming grin as she hugged her laptop against her chest. "I'll see you guys soon. Good luck on your projects."

"Thank you, Miss Lauren," came the graceless yet happy chorus from students, eliciting a small chuckle from the psychologist as she sauntered over to the door, where Camila stood.

Without her constant pestering thoughts, Camila's lips tugged to show a smile Lauren had not seen in a really long time. She wanted to say something but refused to have a scowl or some sort replace the serene look on the professor's features. Lauren missed that; she misses Camila and she was going to extend that look as long as she could.

"Do you mind if we drop by at the office? I'll just leave this." Lauren nudged the laptop, unable to hold Camila's gaze.

"No, not at all." She stepped aside and extended the hand holding her cup of coffee towards the hallway, allowing Lauren to lead the way.

Camila followed behind like a little puppy, leisurely drinking her coffee. And as they stepped further away, she could hear the inhibited voices resound from the lecture hall. There was a significant amount of space separating the former couple, both still unsure if walking side by side was the smartest given their dysfunctional relationship or lack thereof.

The problem for Camila was a certain pull compelling her eyes to land on Lauren's shapely backside. Mouth dried like a desert, her wary heart raced with raging desire that had never once visited her until then. Wherever she found the strength and energy to look away, Camila had no idea. Stifling a sigh, she wanted to yell at herself but that would expose her little secret out in the open.

The supposedly solid walls she had put up all these years had met their match; someone Camila never expected to bump into ever again. And she was giving out – she could feel it in her veins. She couldn't even stay mad when it was so easy to do for almost 9 years. But then again, that was when she had one less variable; Lauren.

"I'll be quick." Lauren promised, slipping into her office in a rush upon Camila's acknowledging nod.

There wasn't much time to think about what was actually happening nor was there enough time to celebrate the change in Camila's demeanor. Lauren merely set her laptop down to her desk, grabbed her wallet and keys, and careened back out to join the professor, who had been smiling despite the anxious look spread across her olive features.

One thing was for sure, though, Lauren was giddy.

Nerves were devouring Camila at a very fast pace as she thought of the proposition she was about to offer. There was hesitation apparent in her mind as it reeled, prompting her to go back to the day she had blatantly lied about being dropped off when only hours later, she had been caught. Her lie was a dauntingly live marquee, blinking about in her head that would come full circle after she will have uttered her next words.

"I'll drive us." Camila insisted while she watched Lauren lock up, while holding her coffee in the other hand. She reached inside her pocket and retrieved her own keys, jangling them for effect to drown out the heightening volume of her pulse in her ear. "You know, to um...save on gas and you can drink your coffee."

"Sure." Lauren agreed without question as she straightened herself, much to Camila's delight.

The psychologist was well aware of the embarrassment Camila had to endure already. After Milo unknowingly revealed the car brand and Luca had taunting Camila about it, Lauren thought it was best to give her ex-girlfriend a break. She was being nice, after all and congeniality deserved a reward.

Coffee cups in tow, Camila took Lauren to a cozy French restaurant that resembled the Clausnitzer living room called Julienne after a rather comfortable car ride spent talking about the latter's job. The restaurant was all about mismatched furniture, wrought iron chandeliers and elaborate wood carvings surrounded by deep blue walls. All the chaos blended to form harmony and the aroma whirling in the air was delectable. There was an odd sense of comfort in the ambience, making an impression close to the feeling of being home.

The restaurant was overflowing, leaving Lauren to wonder if Camila had planned that day for a very long time or if she knew the owner. Her suspicions were slowly veering towards the latter when the hostess' features oddly lit up and greeted Camila by her name, subsequently leading them towards a table by the window encasing the view of withered trees and grass – the best one compared to concrete and cars. It wasn't the reaction Lauren expected upon meeting Professor C but she welcomed it anyway.

The manager and a waiter came not much later to get their orders, which was easier with Camila's suggestions. Lauren was set on getting pan-seared duck breast with fingerling potatoes and green beans while Camila ordered her favorite lamb stew. Of course, those dishes had French names that Lauren neither dare pronounce.

Not even 15 minutes flew by, their respective dishes were before them, coupled by another serving of gracefully aged white wine. Lauren was impressed. Either they were terrified of Camila or their service was impeccable. But waiting wasn't that much of a burden while they were occupied with each other in a very educational conversation.

"This place is nice and their food, god, their food is heavenly." Lauren expressed passionately, wandering eyes darting from the ceiling, the other guests enjoying their own meals to Camila's brown ones, which have been intently inspecting her. For someone who had fallen in love with their food, she had constantly forgotten about it as her inquisitive gaze scrutinized the place further. "How'd you find it?

"Remember Aunt Patty from the party?" Stilling her knife and fork occupied hands, Camila raised her brows, looking into green eyes as she waited for an answer that came through a nod. There was pull on the corner of her lips, she wanted to smile; maybe even tease Lauren's childlike wonder. It was both amusing and enchanting and that was a combination Camila loved.

"This is one of their businesses. She and Luca are obsessed with French everything, and decided they wanted to go to France whenever they want through food. Most of the kitchen staff are French. They import most of the raw ingredients, too." She divulged, observing Lauren's mouth as it slowly parted to reveal her fascination.

"Your house..."

"Courtesy of the brilliant minds of two Clausntizers." Camila finished for her; huffing her amusement out.

The days Camila spent in Seattle, she spent it thinking about Lauren. Whenever her hands were empty or whenever her thoughts weren't wired to perform her job the only way she could, she thought about Lauren. It was an instinctual reaction that her mind had taken the liberty of putting back into what was considered standard.

Essentially, she was restless and had been constantly nagged by her increasingly annoying conscience.

For what it's worth, Camila was supposed to apologize the same day of the one-sided argument, but somehow, an epiphany decided to dawn on her; thanks to a three-year-old. During her conversation with Pebble, Camila was finally given the last kick in the head to come to a realization that she'd been unfair to Elf. The innocent little boy didn't insist on being a part of her life. He simply shared a house with her and he was understanding of her, and that was the worst attack she had to endure.

Camila didn't expect to feel maternal instinct but she was definitely surprised when spending time with Elf ignited a foreign feeling within her. However, it was that of her being a doting older sister that traveled from the clutches of the past; a distant memory that she welcomed in her obstructed heart. Boy, did she miss her little sister, Sofia, who was almost done with high school.

Camila only saw Elf as a sibling, or her brother's child, and that was an area of concern. She didn't feel like a mother – unlike Lauren.

Regardless, between Camila and Elf, the kid was the mature one.

Maturity.

Camila was going to be mature about dealing with Lauren; she was going to be cordial, and was gladly surprised when there was no need to suppress hostility...so far.

It would have been a little less complicated without Camila's admission to still having feelings for her ex-girlfriend. She couldn't have just made it up, in the middle of a rampage. She couldn't have lied about it; she wouldn't achieve much if her only goal was to purposely hurt Lauren. That wouldn't do it.

Now that caused a rampage in her otherwise calm heart.

"What exactly do you do? I mean, only if you don't mind talking about." Lauren probed, swallowing another bite of her food as her taste buds dove into a burst of flavor. She wanted Camila to have a choice to decline. At least, she thought she owed it to her.

Camila nodded incessantly, reaching for the sweaty goblet of water and took a giant gulp to wash her food down. That was a subject she would willingly and openly discuss. It was a much appreciated delay in the conversation she was intending to have with Lauren within the lunch hour.

"Typically, I have to do some research to predict market changes and see trends in a specific period. But they usually do that for me and there are a lot of periodicals I compile for references, and updates. Luca plays the stock market. What he gathers helps me, too. It's more data I could use to make accurate models. What I do is analyze them, interpret whatever that means for the company, and whether it would affect them in any way. And from there, I make policies or just strategies to make sure the company would stay afloat." Camila explained, wagging her fork about; delving deep into her method with pride.

"Sometimes, I use it to decide whether it would be smart, profit-wise, to invest in something. I work for several companies and oftentimes, they coincide, which means less job for me to do. At least, they're not in the same industry. That would be a little complicated." Smiling sheepishly, Camila shook her head, suddenly realizing how lame and nerdy she sounded. She would have gone on and on, and would even give Lauren a sneak peak of her last assignment. "That essentially is it. It's really boring."

"No. No. It's actually interesting to me." Lauren hurriedly assured her; genuinely intrigued by Camila's job. "A little confusing with all the numbers and technical terms but still interesting."

"How so?"

"I got the textbooks you assigned for your three classes. They just about gave me a headache but hearing you talk about what you do is something more interesting to me. I guess, you just translate everything in 'earth words' for an ordinary person like me." Lauren laughed lightly, finding humor in her struggles through the past days as Camila's substitute. Of course, it was her who complicated everything. Camila's only requirement was for her to expedite the project to the students and sit in front of the class.

The biggest surprise came when Camila joined her, chuckling and the sounds she was making played with the strings that kept Lauren's heart in place. She missed that contagious and adorably goofy little laugh. It was youthful and refreshing, and Lauren was suddenly filled with vigor; a renewed soul inhibiting her body. She wanted to close her eyes and relish in the moment but refrained from doing it, fearing she'd look creepy.

Camila didn't think Lauren was ordinary. She had often lost herself in every aspect of Lauren, especially those green eyes. Lauren was too smart, too witty to ignore and her voice alone was knee-weakening and spine-tingling music that made it easy to drown out the surrounding indistinct murmurs. She was slowly being levitated by the stupor of nostalgia that drifted her towards reminiscing the yesteryears with great fondness for a change.

And that may have been tactless.

"I find that hard to believe. You were great with your electives in college. We even-" She abruptly stopped as her entire body tensed, successfully stifling a gasp when she realized how she got carried away by her emotions. Apprehensive heart racing, she cleared her throat, flashing a tight smile as she feared for Lauren's reaction. "Sorry. Let's just forget about that."

Camila waved her hand dismissively, more in the hopes of literally shaking her slip up into oblivion. She would be too embarrassed if she were to remember that very moment. She wanted to ask why she was always the one that broke between the two of them. It was beginning to irritate her amid the hurricane that ravaged her already convoluted mind.

All the stress had begun to congregate in her dry throat and chest, preventing her from breathing while asphyxiating her at the same time. She was beginning to feel disheartened by the events and was beginning to doubt that it was the best idea to invite Lauren.

Camila thought she was stronger than she was and she needed a diversion.

"Do you want to get desserts?" She suggested thoughtlessly as she hailed a waiter and asked for dessert menus just to avert Lauren's concern gaze. She despised being pitied and Lauren's green eyes would have softened to show her concern and that would only anger her more; kicking her into the depths of fury. She was supposed to be avoiding that.

Fortunately or unfortunately, both pairs of eyes widened as they found a familiar dish. Nostalgia undulated their skins and jolted their hearts. Lauren's skin prickled into producing goose bumps as the ghost of their past began to slither into their present once more. Camila's desire of swerving their conversation away from it had just been thwarted and instead, received a flagrant element that represented the beginning of their friendship. She was getting a little too uneasy but not angry, oddly enough.

"Lemon meringue pie." The former couple mumbled in unison in apparent disbelief, lifting their eyes just in time to connect their gazes. For the next couple of seconds, they handled each other's longing stares with such diligence and tenderness while unconsciously holding their breaths.

It was a silent conversation that both agreed that they weren't ready to articulate. The complexities of their situations were a great dilemma, and while the truth would have solved everything, they still had to have the conversation regarding the wedge that drove them apart.

The moment was fragile and if one of them spoke, it would shatter it, and that would be a little too painful. So, neither spoke for a long movement; nursing their throbbing hearts in silence. Lauren was choking and could feel tears being to prick at her eyes while Camila's nose was sore.

They missed each other and neither dared to look towards the other's lips in the fear of losing control, and allowing the current to them towards each other. That would definitely end in a needy kiss. As beautiful as lip lock sounded, it would be a terrible idea. The entire restaurant knew Camila was married to Luca.

"Do you want to try the pie?" Camila managed to choke out upon swallowing and Lauren nodded timidly, baring her curiosity and maybe lighting the candle of hope within her. "Then we're getting the pie."

"What are you having?" Lauren queried silently, peering down onto the page before her just to be able to take a deep, unrestrained breath. She was beginning to feel lightheaded and it wasn't just the lack of oxygen.

"I think you should try the crepe, too." Camila suggested as casually as she could, eyes aimlessly staring at the menu card. "It's delicious. Let's order two for both."

"Okay, I'll try that, too."

"Can you please order for me? I just have to go to the bathroom." Camila queried carefully and glanced at Lauren for a split second out of courtesy. She went ahead and rummaged through her purse in search of two items. She drew her phone and wallet out, and set them on the table to assure Lauren that she was not going to ditch her.

"Sure." Without thinking much of it, Lauren grinned and waited for Camila took the first step, purse in tow, before she called for a waiter. She welcomed the chance to freely breathe and recover from that little staring contest that was draining every ounce of resolve in her body.

Camila lied.

She wanted to smoke, and so she did. Out in the parking lot, Camila desperately fished for her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. There was no need to deliberate whether it was a smart idea to be lighting the rolled stick up or not. She wanted her craving out of the way and it relaxed her, reducing the decision into something she would categorize as a no brainer.

Smoking to Camila was an irony. As she clouded the clear air with smoke, her brain would clear up. And as she filled her lungs with supposedly suffocating smoke, she could breathe. Feelings always complicated everything, she knew that very well. She thought she had it in the bag but then, the events turned out into her reaching for the contents of her purse to release tension that have been built up over the years.

Camila thought Lauren's coolness through their encounters was some "psychology conspiracy", which made her question her major in college and the subsequent post-graduate education. If she had gone to medical school, she would have had a glimpse of the human mind, not just its anatomy.

But no amount of professional training would prepare a person for an encounter with their exes. That was a question on mental and emotional strength, and somehow, Camila lacked both.

Figuring she'd spent too much time outside and seeing multiple cigarette butts by her feet, Camila reached for her bottle of hand sanitizer. She poured a generous amount on her palm and vigorously rubbed it, hoping to get rid of the strong, noticeable smell.

Lauren knew Camila lied just by the distinct scent the preceded her but never prodded. It wasn't just because she thought it wasn't appropriate nor was it her right to. She was just respectful of the boundaries that have been set between them. It was her who stepped out of Camila's life; she had no right to demand entrance if the gates are locked. Although, she couldn't help but question why Camila needed to lie. It wasn't like she could stop her anyway.

Regardless, a sweet smile was ready to greet her significantly calmer companion.

"Lauren," Camila probed, tracing random patterns with the remaining caramelized sugar and butter sauce on her empty plate using a fork.

They had just finished their desserts and both quietly relished the memories that the confectionary decadence had brought with it. Lauren would have loved to share the cherished pictures of her mind on the day Camila took her to that little café back in Miami. Her heart soared with a burden as she compared their current circumstances to their past ones.

Camila was trapped in a jail of fear and anxiety as she conjured up the right words to say; to deliver her real purpose of their lunch out. The thought of apologizing to the person who broke her heart was not just absurd but was a jab straight to her pride in itself and yet, she was raised better than that. Her little explosion back in Lauren's office over a week prior was unwarranted because they wouldn't have found themselves in that situation if only Camila had better self-control and didn't kiss Lauren.

"Yeah?" Lauren retorted upon dabbing at the area surrounding her mouth, ridding it of residual sauces and oils from the food.

"I...I-just want to apologize...for the way I acted last week." Camila stammered after a long uncomfortable pause on her end despite Lauren's patience. Sincerity laced her words while her eyes portrayed fear of rejection; something Lauren figured that she embedded in them. "It was wrong of me to just come on to you like that and then days later I blame you for it. I'm really sorry, Lauren."

"That's okay. I understand. If anything, I wanted to apologize for asking about it."

"No. Don't say that." Camila shook her head, dismissing Lauren's notion immediately. "None of it was your fault. Really. This was my apology and me...trying to...get to know you again." Suddenly, she could not look Lauren in the eyes upon her confession. The volume of her voice somehow lowered as insecurity slammed into her. "So we could...become...friends?"

Friends. Lauren repeated in her head, smiling her pain away. Somehow, that word alone sounded wrong but she wanted to make Camila feel better. If that was what she wanted, Lauren would give it to her.

At least, Camila didn't shrug the kiss off as if it was nothing just like she did on the night of the homecoming dance.

"Of course." She nodded; just in case her words didn't show enough of her approval as her insides churned painfully. "I'm glad we could put the past behind us."

Part of Camila wanted Lauren to protest but they weren't in high school anymore and there were more factors to consider; the first two being their husbands. As far as Camila is concerned, she knew Lauren had a husband or a wife, considering the name she had been wearing for a certain period Camila was not aware of. At least, Lauren didn't have a kid, while she had Elf.

It came as a shock for both of them when they had concluded their lunch date – friendly lunch date – without Camila suddenly exploding like the unstable bomb that she is. Lauren didn't want to get her hopes up but it was hard not to while she basked in Camila's uncharacteristic light and friendly aura. It could have been a dawn to their new...friendship; no matter how odd that sounded.

They were friends first, after all – friends who kissed and had deeper, more profound feelings for the other. And with that, a friendship between them became rather unreachable. But for now, Lauren was high above the ground and she wanted to be happy.

"Thank you for lunch...Camila." Lauren cagily muttered as they both stood in front of Lauren's office a couple of minutes before the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period.

"Thanks for accepting the invitation, Lauren." Camila jested with a shrug despite the seriousness in those playfully delivered words. If Lauren declined, there wouldn't have been any kind of meal to thank Camila for.

"Hey, it's free food." The psychologist shot back, flashing that excruciatingly attractive smirk. She wanted to prolong the light air surrounding them and as she was falling, bracing for Camila's reaction, the professor caught her fall and laughed.

It felt great to laugh and the burden on their shoulders suddenly disappeared into oblivion. But of course, the music had to end.

"I have to get going. I have to drop by my other job to see if their counselor did as well as you." Camila lightly quipped in her remorseful state despite the relief clinging to her apprehensive bones that have been dying to feel a cigarette between her fingers. There was only so much self-restraint her body had before she'd crassly leap at the psychologist. "I guess we'll just see each other around these halls."

Lauren nodded in understanding, tugging her lips to paint what could be a grateful grin.

"You know where to find me."

Instinctively, Camila looked to her left, finding the inscription on the glass panel of Lauren's office door and the effect of that blasted last name was still as strong and as persistent as it had always been. Camila did not know what possessed her to do it – and it could have been her jealousy and competitive nature – but she opened the door for Lauren like a very respectable gentlem-woman. She then tucked her hands behind her back, ready to bid the psychologist goodbye, having ran out of every other platonic words to say.

"Until tomorrow, Lauren." Camila muttered reluctantly, completely stepping out of the way.

"Until tomorrow." The psychologist reaffirmed truthfully, filled with every intention of seeing Camila again. "Drive safely."

"I will."

Lauren had only noticed it and the realization came crashing heavily. Camila had never uttered "goodbye" or any variation of the word since they bumped into each other over a month ago. She wouldn't have known if Camila hadn't exploded in her office, yelling something about closure. The gravity of their break-up disheveled Camila and all that she'd known, which resulted in a different kind of person emerging in the same body; a stranger that Lauren was still getting to know.

And since "goodbye" usually connoted something awful, the professor had refused to say it and subject herself into an unwarranted torture of being left behind.

With a heavy heart, Lauren nodded to acknowledge Camila before stepping into her office only to halt abruptly as she gasped, disbelief emanating from her entire stilled body. Her green eyes found long and glorious wavy blonde locks down to the stranger's tight black leather pants, wrapping toned, athletic legs that Lauren knew belonged to one person, and one person alone.

The intruder was looking up at hung diplomas and certificates behind Lauren's desk. A large parka jacket that was definitely too big for Lauren was strewn over her high back chair.

Lauren wanted to say something; anything that would express her excitement. And after that peaceful lunch with Camila, her reeling head only allowed for her to speak three words.

"Oh, my god!" Pale hands flew up to cover Lauren's gaped mouth as moisture, happy tears clouded her vision. She was overwhelmed. After having a terrible start to her day, Lauren needed that and her control over her emotions were out of the question.

Camila about to leave when she heard Lauren's alarmed tone and her instinct was already moving her legs to run towards where the psychologist was before her mind could catch up with it. She needed to make sure that Lauren was out of harm's way and she was definitely ready to protect her. Camila still cared; amid the crumpled piece that is her heart, she still cared for Lauren.

Camila was right beneath the doorframe when Lauren lunged her body towards the other person in the room, just in time for Lauren to land safely in her arms. She would give anything to see the blissful look on Lauren's features but instead, she was face to face with her high school best friend.

"Dinah." She whispered disbelievingly, igniting a suppressed longing in her chest.

Camila was frozen in her place as her eyes scanned the taller girl's body. She noted subtle changes but none that would completely erase the girl she once knew and instead, she was faced with a woman who fought to become the person that she is inside, and that was admirable.

She had not seen Dinah longer than Lauren. It was a little challenging to see each other when the Polynesian decided on going to college on the other side of the country. The last time they had talked was a couple of days after New Year's Day and it was a five-minute phone conversation that wasn't as jovial as she hoped.

All those years, Camila thought she was fine without Dinah but having to see that wide, juvenile smile completed by her closed eyes brought so many beautiful memories that had made it to the list of things she will cherish for the rest of her life. That woman was her partner in crime and the shoulder that had always been there to catch her sad, miserable head.

When those golden brown orbs revealed themselves, Camila had to endure a tidal wave or some sort. It wasn't just because she was in shock; it was probably a literal blast from the past. She could not remember how sharp Dinah's gaze was and oddly enough, it was soft at the same time, as if she was looking at a long lost sister. And having Dinah in the same room alone was tugging at her delicate chest.

"Mila!" Dinah exclaimed excitedly as she trudged across the room, voice trembled from the intense feeling of longing. "Come here!"

Camila met the slightly younger girl halfway, wrapping her arms around Dinah's neck while she felt strong arms tightly around her torso, lifting her up slightly from the ground. Her lips parted as she let out a content through her wide grin. She had forgotten how much she needed to be in Dinah's arms and how beautiful it felt that her chest began to constrict and it wasn't because of her friend squeezing the life out of her. Camila was overwhelmed with joy that if she were to allow it, a tear would slip through her tightly sealed eyes.

Dinah swam in the same euphoric ocean but was evidently surprised to smell stale smoke. Lauren had forgotten or forgone sharing the little bit of information with her and Dinah was left to assume whatever hypothesis her mind fabricated. She wanted to tell herself it could be secondhand smoke and she had to warn Camila about staying away from those people to avoid lung cancer but a nagging part of her brain told her that wasn't the case. Regardless, she didn't say anything.

"I missed you, Mila."

"I missed you, too." Camila choked out, having to take a deep breath as the whiplash of Dinah's words struck her.

As both slowly pulled away, Camila caught sight of the beautiful mess before her eyes. Lauren had stayed behind her desk, smiling adoringly as if she was staring at some magnificent phenomenon. The twinkle in her drenched green eyes were spellbinding as those very generous lips encased her pearly whites. Lauren looked younger whenever she was genuinely happy and she definitely was with the sight of the two best friends reuniting for the first time in years.

As much as Camila tried to deny it, she was still hopelessly enamored by the girl. Only now, she found one more thing that captivated her, the grace of Lauren's womanhood. And she was thankful nobody had asked.

There are days that start of bad and eventually slither to worse. But sometimes, they just might surprise you. To Lauren, that day was worth being deprived of caffeine, dropping her keys and having to have dry cereal that choke you instead of fill your belly up. Camila had managed to be her sun, shrinking the dark clouds enough and Dinah might just be the wind that blew them away.

"Dinah, what are those bags for?" Lauren interrupted the tender moment when her bulging, alarmed eyes found two wheeled leopard print luggage right by the play pen. It was an all too sudden reaction that she couldn't have contained.

Lauren's voice burst Camila's drifting bubble, cracking her back into reality and allowing her to land on her butt with a resounding thud – figuratively. She wasn't supposed to be lost in Lauren's beauty and she wasn't supposed to be drunk of the woman's essence. But she couldn't, for the life of her, contain that absorbing power that still drew her to Lauren Jauregui.

"I'm going on a vacation!" Dinah announced in a very enthusiastic manner, throwing her arms to either side as her grin significantly widened.

"Where?" Lauren and Camila muttered in unison, both incredibly intrigued by their friend's supposed trip. They were skeptical about it considering brief vacations only involved one ginormous luggage and not their entire wardrobe.

"Here!" Dinah retorted in the same unwavering energetic fashion, undeterred by those intense stares pointed at her.

"What could Indiana possibly offer to you compared to California?" Lauren protested, features crumpled to convey her confusion. She had taken steps closer to her friend to see if her hinges were lose; whip up her psychologist magic and inspect the damage. "I mean, this state is just as beautiful but you love the beach and the sunny weather. All you get here are rivers...and lakes, and-and frost bites."

"You two!"