Not Quite the Opposites (camren)

18 - Hasty

There was no Normani or Ally to save me that night. Not even Camila.

My independence and my supposed firm grasp of my own life had always been something I was proud of. After I let myself get too drunk to fend Andrew off and prevent what happened from happening, I had begun to ask if I deserved to be or if I was even capable of living by myself. I did make mistakes but it wasn't as bad as a one night stand. There might be an abundance of teenagers who would give their bodies to random strangers but I was never one of them until that night.

I thought I respected myself enough to avoid that.

The epitome of independence, as my mother would say, just became the least reliable person of the family; getting wasted and taken advantage of. And there was no one else to blame but me, my arrogance and my poor choices. I could have stayed with Camila, I should have and I would have but I didn't just because I wanted to please a blonde girl that I don't even like.

It was a mistake and Camila would have said something like the Oscar Wilde quote "Experience is the name so many people give to their mistakes." However, it was a mistake I never intentionally wanted to make. As much as I didn't want to experience it, there was no taking it back.

What happened with Andrew and I had significantly woken me up. It had somehow worked me enough to sweat some of the alcohol from my system. My indignant feelings towards myself, Jette and the boy who never heeded to what little fight I had inundated my bleak consciousness.

But somehow, there's always hope and my redemption came in the form of an inebriated blonde who had grabbed Andrew by the arm and dragged him to her room just before he could get his hands on my underwear.

There was disbelief in my system. Jette had sacrifice herself for me and I wasn't sure if she had any reason to.

And all I could think of was how fast he'd left to take advantage of Jette and I was left with shame; laying in the bed that once gave me nothing but serenity. His haste to fulfill his primal desires was uncanny and frightening. It may have just been some usual night, or usual guy for most people but it wasn't for me.

I had only managed to cover myself with my duvet and abandoned attempting to put my pants back on. The pain in my chest was overwhelming and it was an endless battle of guilt, anger and indignity. That, aside from the throbbing pain in my head. It had debilitated me and I could not muster the strength to move further but my body uncontrollably jolted as soon as tears streamed from my eyes. I stared blankly at the ceiling, breathing through my gaped mouth.

I had just escaped s****l assault and I couldn't exactly celebrate it. Fear was a compelling monster.

"I'm sorry, Camz." I miserably whispered while I furiously wiped the tears that never ceased to pour. "I'm so sorry."

I was quickly sucked into a hole of self-deprecation and I was digging further down, not trying to climb back up.

What compelled me to get up was the thought of my door being unlocked and more people walking in uninvited. I unwillingly stood up, wrapping the blanket over my body which made the sobbing worse.

I went straight to my closet and put sweatpants on and Camila's plain, generic looking zip-up hoodie. I had made sure to find the thickest clothes to provide me a false sense of security with the added layer.

I badly wanted to shower to rid myself of feeling dirty from only the streaks Andrew made on my thighs with the pads of his fingers and it wasn't because of the sticky feeling that dried up sweat had left me. I would have relished the continuous stream of warm water on my skin and I'd bask in its calming glory. However, my roommates were awake given the noise they were making. I had only heard the door open and close in succession once and that meant only one of the three boys had left, maybe one of the two girls. I wasn't sure.

Droplets of water began to descend from the dark clouds just as tears incessantly gushed down from my eyes. The gentle pitter-patter on the roof would have easily soothed me if it were any other night and I would have slept like a little baby. But I laid on my side, wide awake, staring at Camila's framed picture. My mind had created a frown over her goofy grin, her squinted eyes had somehow looked to be glaring at me and I could not seem to get rid of the image I created because in my head, Camila was disappointed in me.

"Laurie, can I sleep here?"

Alas, the last voice I ever wanted to hear again erupted as soon as my door swiftly flung open. The collision of the doorknob against the wall created a haunting bang that made me wince and hold on the duvet tighter. I was tempted to beat my head with my fist for forgetting to lock the door.

The mere mention of the particular nickname caused an unsettling commotion in my veins and there was no going back to even a glimpse of joy.

It was unbelievable that no matter how tired her voice was it always sounded so eerily flamboyant, the kind that you hear in nightmares. Without my permission, she had wobbled her way to my bed, gripping tightly on the sheets to prevent herself from falling.

But I couldn't just shun her away. After all, she spelled the difference between r**e and safety.

"A/C vent in my room is busted. It's too hot." Jette continued in her typical ostentatious manner.

"Yeah." I mumbled, modulating my shaking voice.

Her presence had cause another wave of distress, making my tears freefall as I struggled to breathe through my mouth. It seemed as though my relationship with composure had faltered and there was no way of calming myself. I was only thanking the heavens that my body wasn't quivering anymore.

I laid there motionless as she squirmed in the bed to make herself comfortable. I felt her lifting the duvet up and crawled inside of it; finally finding a comfortable spot, laying on her back.

"Camila used to love me." Jette muttered in a tone I had never heard from her before. Maybe it was because of my own misery but I could feel pain and betrayal in her voice. It was unlike her. "Stupid parents. It still hurts, Laurie." She groused and soon I heard a gentle slap as both her hands cupped the entirety of her face.

For some twisted reason, Camila loved her. And whose parents?

Jette was filling puzzle pieces to an incomplete picture I had been trying to build of Camila. Somehow, I wanted Camila to help me create the full image of whatever she was hiding from me. However with the state I was in, I was not necessarily able to analyze anything; from the intoxication, to the self-loathing and to the hatred I had for the blonde, I was practically not there.

"Can you love me, Laurie?" Her voice exposed an insecurity in her that would otherwise be hidden had she not drank more than her usual dose.

But any remnants of her vulnerable side as she continued to divulge on the events of the night quickly dissolved as I heard slight chortling.

"James likes me. He's been trying to take me and I let him for the first time tonight. But he couldn't get it up, so we gave up." She giggled childishly as if s*x was just another toy you play with.

Guilt had not enslaved her and I was not sure if I should be jealous of her or feel better because I had always seen that act as a profession of love.

"Andrew, though. It was some good sex." Jette proudly proclaimed, moaning even as she relived the pleasure he had given her.

The thought of her whimpering in arousal made me grimace as if I felt a sharp pain shoot through me. I slowly closed my eyes as I let out a long sigh in agony. It felt like being repeatedly kicked in the guts barely trying to recover from the first blow. There must have been something compressing my lungs as I could not even breathe well.

Whatever slight composure I had, it was quickly fleeting.

"What's so special about you, Laurie?" Jette had writhed in bed and unexpectedly pressed the front of her body on my back. I could feel the softness of her breast under her thin tank top. She began tracing my ear and I shuddered, disgusted by her and by myself. "Why does Camila like you so much? Why can't she love me again, Laurie? You know, I think she loves you. She loves you more than she loved me. She takes care of you. I want somebody to take care of me, Laurie."

Does her husband not take care of her?

I was left with more questions than when I started asking them. There was just so many details from their beginning and their present that nothing would make sense if the little fluff were missing. Before my hurting brain could analyze anything further, I felt her hand move to my upper arm, caressing my limb just like she did to my ear. I tensed up but that never seemed to bother her. She reached for my breasts and I was praising the heavens that I was clutching onto the duvet with my arms and hand tightly covering the area.

I thought she had given up, but Jette's hand trailed down reaching my abdomen and kept going further to a place where she should not be granted any sort of passage.

I felt violated, dirtier and her touch caused an eruption of chills to linger through my spine. It wasn't the same kind that caused butterflies to live in my stomach, it was despicable. I just had to get out of there. Giving her a chance was the dumbest thing I could have done and I will regret that night and beat myself up for it for the rest of my life.

"No." I hissed as I wiped my cheeks and eyes dry with the sleeves of Camila's hoodie.

I mustered whatever control I had left and roughly grabbed her wrist. I forcefully shoved her hand back to her as I got up. There was an apparent confusion in her features, oblivious as to why I was acting that way and it stung. I could not believe some people could not tell if they had crossed the boundaries. She did not even look to have the slightest remorse in her.

But I had to remind myself yet again, that she had saved me.

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs but all my efforts would eventually be in vain. Jette was in a much more daze than she was always in and I could not get to her or hurt her the slightest.

Then again, I gave her more credit than she deserved.

The frustration that built up inside me caused another outburst and my eyes were starting to blur as the tears had reemerged. I just had to get out of there. My breathing became even more erratic, and as involuntary as the act of breathing is, I had to force my lungs to contract and expand just to keep myself alive.

I grabbed my phone and bolted out of there, trying to dial the only person I could trust. Despite the uncontrollable quivering of my hands, I hastily found her number just as fast as I was walking towards the door. With the phone's speaker against my ear, I tried to hardest to keep it together; to be brave just until she came.

I was doing well even after I closed the front door of the apartment I never considered my home.

The gentle drizzle of the December rain had picked up and the gust that swept through me as I exited the house sent chills to my frail, tired body. My hair was easily disheveled further by the wind flurry. Miniscule droplets of water had landed on my face while my clothes have been partially drenched. The two-foot overhang in the front porch was nothing compared to the savage wrath of nature.

"Lauren?" Camila's tired, sleep-ridden voice resonated from my ear down to my somnolent heart. The huskiness in her voice was significantly exacerbated.

The reverberations of her vocal chords offered me a conflicting feeling of bravery and weakness. She was easily one of my strengths and could draw that from me even when hope is bleak. With Camila, I could easily congregate my thoughts and get lost in them at the same time. But since she was there, figuratively, I didn't need to pretend to be strong anymore and that was what I did.

I sobbed uncontrollably, letting out a slight wail. The pain in my head intensifying, prompting me to massage my temples.

"Camz, I'm sorry." My voice shook, just as the rest of my torso. I brushed my hair with my free hand, stopping just on the back of my head as I tangled my hand in my dark brown mane. "Please pick me up. I need you." I whispered the last part, unsure if it was because of shame or I was just physically unable to.

"I will, Lolo. Don't cry." Without hesitation, she retorted with a sudden jolt of energy which made me think if I had heard the same person or not. "But Lauren,"

Camila's voice was among the plethora of others and I could make out her swiftly yanking the thick blanket off her, whipping it to the side to free herself. Soon, I heard keys rattling and doors creaking open. As if rain was not enough, thunder roared echoing through the relatively quiet Miami night just after lightning momentarily illuminated the dark skies. To my relief, the severity of the commotion in the skies was at a minimum; other than the heavy rain.

"Yeah?" I shakily queried, wrapping my free arm across my torso for comfort that I desperately needed. I pushed the phone against my ear harder, wanting all my senses to be inundated by Camila's voice instead.

"Can you stay inside while I'm not there yet? I want to make sure you're safe. It's raining, Lo." She asked with utmost care and affection.

Camila could have discerned the sound of the rain pouring down on the grass and just the general raw sound of water hitting a surface compared to the repercussion it produces on the ceiling after landing on the roof.

Her request caused discomfort to come crashing down on me but it wasn't because of her. In the house were two repulsive people I would like to completely erase from my life. Just the look in their eyes had me practically wincing in physical pain. The things I own didn't matter to me anymore. I just wanted to get out.

"I don't want to."

I heard the rather loud rattling of the garage door being opened, which provided me with a faint glimmer of hope when I thought my path was of dark desolation. I was nearing the light at the very end of the tunnel.

"Okay. Okay." Camila relented too easily before I heard her slam the door to her car. "I'm in the car. I'll see y-"

"Stay on the line." I frantically interrupted her with my heart racing in suspense. My fear was overpowering me and all I could do was hold on to the hopefulness that her voice gave me. "Please, Camz. Please talk to me." I fervently implored as I reattached my fingers to my temples, pressing firmly against my skin.

"Okay." She breathed right before her car boomed to life. The tone in her voice was consistently calm despite the manner at which I spoke when she picked up the phone. The way she cares for me is astounding and it was all I needed at that very moment. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Anything, Camz. Just keep talking." The desperation that my voice exuded was uncanny. On normal occasions, I would have slapped myself across the face for being too needy.

Camila hummed thoughtfully, thinking of a story she could tell me. I heard fingers snapping right before she suddenly started giggling upon a recollection of an apparently funny story.

"I would never admit this to anyone, but when I was younger, I used to bully kids into giving me their juice boxes because mom only let me bring milk. Everybody else gets to enjoy unhealthy sugary things and I get to be nourished with bone-building, osteoporosis-preventing Calcium. I mean, who does that?" She whined in a feigned annoyance and there was only so little to be done before giggling would erupt. "I was being deprived, Lo!"

Camila chuckled in her typical manner and I could feel myself very slowly calming down.

"Of course you were." I lightheartedly muttered in sarcasm, running my hand through my hair.

"It wasn't just that!" Camila continued to playfully complain, probably hoping that I would feel better. "All my friends found me weird but I didn't care. I was the smallest little Cuban kid and yet I was the toughest. I mean, I was Camila Cabello, the clueless seven-year-old with her life in front of her. Come to think of it, they weren't really my friends. They only followed me around so I don't steal their juice boxes, too. I did have my huge extended family and my cousins were my friends. There were quite a lot of us in the same age range and at times, they would come to the playground, the same one we went to, and we'd rule the swings with all the food we can eat." She wickedly cackled, mimicking the evil queens in cartoon movies. "Who's laughing now, Lo?"

"I don't know; you?" I remarked, able to breathe better as the commotion in my pulse slowly dissipated. I didn't realize I was grinning until I felt my cheeks burn.

The skies were still pitch black but I was relieved to find that the rain had calmed down and without any disturbance as thunder ceased to rumble. It was only drizzling then which made me a little calmer given that I had just asked Camila to brave the streets in a terrible weather condition. But that's Miami weather for you; as fickle minded as a teenage girl.

Camila had a way of speaking and it wasn't just her words, it was the emotions she devotes to the things she speaks of. She would often sound scholarly when speaking of little trivia and facts she had discovered from all the times she reads. The passion in her voice when she talks about music and the authors she looks up to is remarkable. When she speaks of her family, I could feel the affection; I could even hear it.

The vivacity of the way she spoke that night awakened my tired out soul despite how challenging it was to keep myself from crashing to the ground.

However, when I only heard silence from her end and I was slowly sinking back into despondency. The familiar scent of the freshly drenched grass or the flowery shrub that I don't know the name of and the house itself reminded me of Jette and remembering what she did to me only minutes ago crumbled me down significantly.

Whatever progress I made, it had all gone to waste.

"Are you there?" Camila queried nervously. It was the first time since my calling her that she sounded so unsure of everything. She sounded...anxious.

I still have not told her of my teething troubles. I felt as if I needed to say it in person. However, Camila would know that there was a problem to begin with. She would know even in the absence of words and the way I had begun the conversation wasn't very comforting. But Camila was doing a wonderful job at trying to calm me down while keeping her own composure.

I could not recognize the gargling noise of Camila's pick-up. It was revved up to speeds I have not witnessed her take. It was almost three in the morning and there weren't as much cars on the roads. I feared the possibility of her thoughtlessly running a red light and getting involved in a collision. I would never forgive myself for that.

"Yeah." I sniffled as a tear slid down my cheek once again and with it carried my new irrational fear. "Please tell me another one." I implored for the umpteenth time that early dawn.

I was never one to beg but I felt miserable and frantic to hear her the huskiness in her voice. I was counting on it to find serenity that I was urgently yearning for.

"Are you interested in fairytales?"

"I'll take anything as long as you narrate it." I retorted hastily. I let out a sigh to cope with the pressure in my tightening chest. My heart may have exhausted itself with the pace and the force it was beating in my chest cavity. "I want to hear your voice."

Camila unexpectedly chuckled, thinking about how rather uncommon it is to be talking about fairytales given that we were past the age range where it is considered normal to like fairytales.

"I'm warning you. You asked for it." She lightheartedly threatened, her voice still shaking from her light laughter. "Okay." She dramatically cleared her throat, preparing herself for the next round of storytelling.

"There was once a young Prince, a teenager who lived in a castle far, far away, like thirty minutes. You can't protest, that's far, Lo." She feigned exasperation and I could see her playfully glaring at me which made me shake my head.

Her natural tendency to be goofy claimed her reciting style; just like usual, it was her normal even. And I yearned for normalcy which I was convinced I would find in her.

I slightly grinned, amused by her. "If you say so, Camz."

"The prince's life was great, it was grand even. He lives in this huge castle with his family. But the King and Queen had royal duties which left him looking after his younger siblings by himself. There were servants but I mean, that's family, Lauren. He wanted that!" Camila argued against herself despite the absence of my protests. "You see, this Prince is very caring and worries about what his family thinks about him. He's a family man and would often be seen spending time with their youngest sibling, playing dollies with her." She continued, pausing in certain parts as she mustered up the story line.

"Dollies." I jokingly mocked despite having to sniffle.

"Yes, Lauren, dollies." Camila reiterated in a childishly frustrated tone. She let out a loud puff to support her act yet I could see her slyly grinning in my head. "Can I please continue my story without interruptions?"

I hummed in approval as I nodded incessantly, urging her to go on. As juvenile as it sounded, I was interested as to where the story would lead. It did successfully draw my attention away from my predicament though.

"Alright." She cleared her throat exaggeratingly loud. "So, the Prince had always listened to his parents' requests and would often do things to please them even if he isn't happy. His amazing life soon became dull and he searched lands high and low, even the ones underwater, in pursuit of an adventure. One day, he met a commoner who was just like any other commoner, plain and simple but never boring. As days went by, the two had grown close to the point where they spend every day with each other."

Camila's voice was then laced in splendor as she allowed us to explore the realms of her made-up fairytale. I only listened to her speak, nodding my head occasionally which was quite useless seeing as she could not see me.

"He was attracted to her but she was already in love with him. He slowly fell for her over time with the commoner teaching him how to love. However, the King and Queen did not approve of the romance. It was not permitted for royalty to be romantically involved with a peasant. The King's brothers and sisters discovered the affair and was keen or tormenting the Prince, especially because he was the heir to the throne. He could not fight for the commoner because he would be unable to provide for her and himself."

Midway through her story telling, I could hear a subtle hint of sadness. I have spent enough time with Camila to know the slightest changes in her voice. I didn't think much into it. Somehow, I felt as if it was just my current situation that elicited such melancholy in her tone.

"They parted ways with the Prince fighting to get over her. The commoner did not like the Prince's choice and soon wasted her life in self-pity and alcohol. She even tried to taint the Prince's reputation but never succeeded. The commoner soon married somebody and the Prince thought she was happy. But she wasn't.

"Three years later, the Prince met a Princess in a ball. The Princess was cursing under her breath because the scroll that she was reading did not make sense. The edges were tone, it was slightly damp, even the some letters were smudged. The structural integrity was compromised and keeping the scroll in one piece had proven to be a challenge for the Princess. Naturally, he offered to help without much protest from the Princess.

"They bonded over chocolate fondue, don't ask me why, they just did," Camila chuckled which made me huff air out in amusement. She had made grin just by being who she is and I was just glad to hear her laugh given the previous tone of her voice. "The Prince felt a stronger connection to the Princess than the commoner. They just simply...clicked, in a more modern term."

And that was the end of her blissful storytelling, it disappeared as fast as it came. Camila's mood had been in a weird rollercoaster ride. Somehow, Camila had significantly sounded gloomy as she spoke the next few sentences. It was as if she was in deep thought while experiencing shock and misery at the same time. I, too, was lured into the state of mind and was beginning to feel hatred against myself for the events of that night.

"The Prince thought nothing would stand in their way anymore. She was a princess and his family will have no reason to hinder their romance. He secretly liked her and was not sure about her feelings for him. He was going to ask her out. The problem was, the Princess was engaged and was about to get married."

There was a long pause before she nonchalantly said, "The End."

"That's a sad story." I commented, slightly whining, right after she spoke.

"I know." Camila breathed. There was no hiding her sudden mood swing but I was not expecting to hear the next thing she uttered. "I love you, Lo." She told me as if to remind me just in case I forgot.

There was a slight tug at the corner of my lips given that those words had always calmed me down. "I love you, too, Camz."

Bright headlights beamed at me as the unknown vehicle turned a corner. The blaring light intensified the pain in my head as it swiftly shot through my eyes. It suddenly slowed down until it completely stopped right in front of the house. The driver honked once and somehow, I knew the answer to my next question.

"Is that you?" I nervously asked Camila.

"No." She regretfully retorted. "I'm a little closer but I'm not there yet."

The front door had suddenly swung open, revealing the guy with the same look in his eyes despite how tired he seemed. In a split second, my peaceful state had been covered in a pile of more obscurity and fear, everything came crashing down like an avalanche.

"Hey." Andrew smirked, lustfully looking from my lips down to my breasts which caused me to cover the area with both my arms, my phone pressed against the most poignant part of my body. "That's my ride but I can always stay for you." He raised his hand and attempted to reach for my cheek. "We can finish what he started."

I took a step back, intoxicated by my fear of him. It had heightened to great lengths as my exhaustion and drowsiness had the better of me. My anxiety had caused a gush of cold fluid to spew from my heart, distributing it to the smallest of veins. I was cold and it wasn't because of the weather.

"G-get away from...from me." I shakily warned. I knew if he tried, he would easily subdue me and I won't have the energy nor the courage to fend him off. The thought of his friend in the car helping him made me feel nauseated.

Jette wouldn't be much help with two guys.

"Come on, babe." Andrew pressed, taking a step closer to me with the unwavering smirk that pestered me all through the night. I could even see it when I close my eyes. "It was fun, wasn't it?"

I could feel the warmth that exuded from his hand as it neared my face. His appalling scent filled my nostrils which caused another surge of commotion to rush through my stomach. The combination of discomfort and anxiety affected me on a physical level and I was about to throw up. I was not particularly bothered about vomiting, that might just gross him out.

"Lauren?" I could faintly hear Camila's voice, nervously calling for me. "I'm almost there. Be brave for me."

I was convinced she was just saying those things to keep me calm. The trip from her house to my apartment was at least 30 minutes. We've constantly made the trip and knowing the way Camila cruised the streets in the typical fast enough speed, I just knew it was impossible.

I was beyond petrified having Andrew in front of me. Tears had immediately resurfaced as he reached behind me, wrapping his strong arm over my midsection, his hand latching onto my side. That was when I saw a familiar metallic gray pick-up truck. Inside it was my savior, two inches shorter than me; a lot skinnier; a lot nicer. She's probably weaker, but completely sober. At least she had that as an advantage.

The thought of her was a ray of light.

Camila parked right behind Andrew's friend's car. Her usually smooth break was off; it was abrupt which lunged the car forward with the screech of the tires. She hastily opened the door and soon, jumped out just as quickly.

"Hey!" Camila angrily yelled, sprinting towards Andrew and I. Her anger was on a completely different level that her face had contorted into something that I don't recognize. "Keep your f*****g hands away from her!"

Andrew, backed away, swiveling to see who was charging towards us.

Hearing Camila's voice was like going up to heaven despite the manner at which she said them. I don't know how she got there at least 10 minutes earlier but I was only glad that she did. I was thankful that she was in haste.

The closer my best friend got, the more I could see her eyes. Her already dark orbs were significantly murkier and burnt of fury. She was already so worked up about the entire situation, probably because of the words she had just heard me say to Andrew or simply his malevolent voice.

"Who is this?" Andrew mocked, even cackling slightly. He was grinning eerily as he darted glances between Camila and I. "Your little girlfriend?"

"Yes." Camila glared at him; focusing her dark brown ones on his.

I was taken aback by what I had just heard. We both knew what Andrew was insinuating and it wasn't the just merely a girl who was my friend. It was something more profound with a deep emotional attachment.

Camila stood between Andrew and I, her back on me, using herself as a shield to protect me. Her left hand reached behind and I instantaneously grabbed them for emotional support. Her chest heaved not just because of the abrupt physical exertion, it was how the situation affected her as well.

Their orbs were of similar shade and yet Camila's were protective despite her rage while Andrew's were malicious. He smirked at her while she clenched her jaw, tightening her grip on my hand.

"Your relationship didn't stop her the first time I got you in your room." Andrew insisted, unfazed by her remark. "This is between me and her."

He attempted to get past Camila but my best friend stood her ground, firmly standing in his way. The silent dominance caused the much taller guy to take a step back.

I was not happy that Andrew delivered the news to her despite what happened and didn't happen. I wanted to do it myself. I wanted to break it to her slowly, ease it in. I don't want her to be disappointed of me again. However, either way, just because of the situation, no matter the medium of the news, I had already disappointed her.

Camila scornfully laughed, shaking head condescendingly. Her eyes were creepily wide as she laughed, ridiculing him. She was definitely unimpressed.

"You know what? You asked for this." She smirked, tilting her head sideways.

I grew nervous as I felt movement from her hands.

Immediately after, Camila took her right leg back and kicked him in the groin with all her weight that I was certain she broke something. Andrew doubled over, nestling his painfully throbbing area in his hands and his features scrunched up in pain. He whimpered just after abruptly letting out a lungs-worth of air.

I thought Camila was done with him but I thought wrong when she practically shoved the heel of her right hand up to his nose. Andrew once again squeaked as if a part of him was being tightly squeezed.

I could not believe what had just happened. I never once thought she was capable of such things, even her angered state was too unbelievable to be real.

It was kind of sexy. And I thought about that while I was scared out of my mind.

"Are you okay, dude?" Andrew's friend was standing by the passenger door, ready to back his friend up who still could not stand. He must have been curious as to what happened.

Camila pointed at him, narrowing her eyes at the guy while she took a step towards him, dragging me along with her.

"Do you want your balls scrambled or soft boiled?" She threatened, making the frightened boy scurry back inside his car.

"Let's go." She tugged her left hand that I did not let go of for the life of me.

I let Camila lead us to her car with Andrew's friend in the safety of his. Everything happened pretty fast. Camila opened the passenger door and led me in. I hesitantly let go of her hand with her buckling my seatbelt for me. She closed the door and jogged around the car to her side. I was thankful to be in a dry and warm place with her.

I was safe.

I was in a daze but not once did I let go of the back of Camila's hand, which was all the situation allowed. She needed it to drive. I held it with unwavering tightness and she did not seem to mind. I reclined my seat, laying on it on my side. I stared at the side of her face as she intently focused on the road with the faint sound of some indie folk song playing in the background.

Before I knew it, we were pulling up to their garage. Soon, we were in Camila's room where I was easily engulfed in her familiar calming scent that I had been wishing to be in. I was sitting on the edge of her bed, watching her as she fished for clothes for me to wear. She returned with a new pair of sweatpants and a shirt. She laid out the articles of clothing on the bed next to me.

I was struggling to keep my emotions in check. My throat was sore as my nose was besieged with the feeling of drowning. My eyes had been stinging and I knew I was about to burst in tears. I didn't have to be brave anymore, there were no more demons who could take advantage of me. There was only Camila and I was safe.

"I'll leave you to ch-"

Before she could continue, I hastily lunged my body towards her and grabbed for dear life as I sobbed in her arms. My body jolted uncontrollably, letting the emotions I had been suppressing take me.

"Please don't hate me. Please don't hate me." I helplessly and repeatedly muttered against her shoulder, shaking my head. I hated disappointing her. I never wanted to taint whatever good, pristine painting of me she had in her head. "I'm so sorry, Camz. Please don't hate me. Please."

"I don't. It's okay." Camila stroked my back lovingly, making me cling tighter. "Whatever it is, it's okay." She assured me in the gentlest of tones.

"How is it that I don't listen to you?" I queried, not knowing the answer myself. It was more of a rhetorical question but I needed answers, too. "I made a big mistake tonight, Camz."

"It's okay." She cooed breathlessly. The huskiness in her voice sounded much like the usually affectionate ones that I hear all the time. "It might not be as bad as the kiss we shared."

I hated myself even more knowing that she didn't jump into conclusions even with Andrew blatantly implying that he'd undressed me. She just assumed it was a kiss. Camila had always seen the good in me despite my actions saying otherwise. I didn't know if I even deserved her.

"It's worse, Camz." More tears streamed down my eyes as I was forced to remember what had happened. My body continued to tremble forcefully; my drenched clothes making me colder and my own tears had soaked her shoulder.

I took a deep breath, hoping it would calm my treacherous pulse. "I was drunk...Camz. He tried to...we almost slept together. And I almost cheated...on Gavin again."

I muttered though sobs, unable to control my breathing. I was choking on myself and I began to cough incessantly. My entire body felt on fire as minute pores released equally diminutive beads of sweat.

"It's okay." Camila held me closer, figuratively keeping me together before proceeding to stroke my back.

"Why don't you fight for me, Camz?"

It might have been the remnants of the alcohol talking but I knew I was sober by that time. It had just been a question that had been bugging me since she left me at the beach that first day we met. It felt as if I was blaming her for what had happened. I was too embarrassed to admit that it was I, the strong independent woman that I am, who was responsible for my own irresponsibility.

"I know we're just friends but I feel safe with you. I want you to tell me you want to spend time with me and that I should avoid Jette and not just be careful." I reasoned, practically exposing my vulnerability to her.

"I just did, Lo. I'm sorry. It might have been too late though." She regretfully stated, abruptly putting a halt to her stroking my back. I had managed to make her feel horrible about herself, too. I am just a ray of sunshine.

"But were you careful?" Camila queried making me shake my head in defeat and tighten my grasp on her shirt.

"I'm so sorry, Camz. I'm so disappointed of myself. I told Normani I'll be okay." If it were possible, my sobs intensified. The thought of disappointing more people sinking in. It was an alien feeling to be, I was always the "perfect" child. "I promised her I would. I promised you I would."

"That, you will be." She calmly stated, taking a deep breath. "It's in a future tense, Lauren. It does not limit when that will happen, it's 'who' limits it and that person is you. If you decide to quit or keep going until you will be okay; that's up to you and not time or Normani and I. What happened is all in the past now and it's a choice to continue to live in it or stay in the present and do something about it. I know it's hard but you'll always have me."

There was the philosophically beautiful Camila I was dying to hear.

I nodded, trying to comprehend what she had just told me. I was too afraid to see the sadness in her eyes that I knew I had caused. It may have just been because of what had transpired, or because of the things I had just said.

"Always." She reiterated, whispering.

That last word lingered in my head, echoing through every curves and crevices of my being. It made me happy.

Camila held me until there were no more tears. She stood there with me, letting me latch onto her for as long as I could. She held me up amid my weakened knees. She let me suffocate her physically just by how tight I held onto her, or emotionally as she was practically my emotional punching bag. I came with a lot of baggage I never acknowledge before and she had always been there.

"Are you hungry?" Camila asked many minutes after I had stopped shaking.

I nodded and reluctantly let her go. The outline of her body on my clothed skin immediately stung as her warmth was replaced by a colder temperature of the room. I cautiously searched her slightly reddened eyes indicating tears had fallen from them as well. She noticed how I frowned and immediately shook her head as she gave me a reassuring smile.

I ended up showering while Camila prepared for our either horribly late night or terribly early morning snack. I scrubbed repeatedly that my skin pricked. I needed to feel physically clean and rid myself of Andrew's or Jette's remnants on my flesh. I needed to know that even a speck of their dead skin cells weren't clinging on mine.

I needed it for my sanity.

Despite how hard I scrubbed, my dignity had been scraped and there was nothing I could do about it. There was no soap to clean it up, no bandages to patch it up. There weren't stitches to hold it together even. What's done is done and I had to live with it. Knowing me, I would be beating myself up for it every single moment I can.

There was a slice of lemon meringue pie and hot coffee waiting for me on the dining table. That was the dessert she recommended on the day we were at the small restaurant. And she said that was what she would make if life gave her lemons.

I grinned at the recollection of that conversation, feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

We ate in relative silence with only the sound of our forks hitting our glass plates. It was calming to just be there and know I was with Camila, as far away from Jette and Andrew. Her mere presence was enough. She didn't say anything, she just had to sit there and I was alright.

"I think I gave myself the lemons, Camz." I mumbled, picking at the little triangular piece that remained of my pie.

Camila looked up to me, twisting her head slightly to the right, furrowing her brows. "What?"

"If life gives you lemons..." I trailed off with a knowing look, nodding incessantly to which she smiled immediately.

"I'd make lemon meringue pie." She chuckled lightly, thinking about how silly that conversation was.

The air soon became thin as I remembered one more important aspect I should ponder on; my relationship with my boyfriend. In all the troubles I had endured that night and early dawn, I was yet to worry about what Gavin thought of me.

"Camz, what should I do?" I rubbed my temples, closing my eyes. Everything was so overwhelming, I just wanted to hide in the dark where no one would see me.

"Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star..." Camila trailed off, delicately smiling at me.

"E.E. Cummings." I mumbled, deep in my daze that I did not reciprocate the smile.

Despite knowing she was saying those words in light of my love, or whatever it is I now felt for my boyfriend, all I could think of as she spoke was my love for her. It had grown exponentially large, too large that it was getting harder to ignore. Maybe Camila had the upper hand considering we were always together but Gavin never possessed the words that Camila would normally say. He never possessed the comforting touch she blessed me with.

He was not and will never be her.

"I'm supposed to be in love with him and just him, Camz." I whimpered, hiding myself in my hands with the severity of my predicament.

"Everything will fall into place in time. Don't worry too much." Camila reassured me, reaching for my wrist. She pulled my hand free from my face, lacing our fingers together. She squeezed it to offer me comfort. "Whatever you want to do, know that I will support you, no matter what."

I nodded and held my head low, unsure of what to say next. For a person who always has something to say, I was at a loss for words.

"I love you, Lauren." Camila shattered the silence that enveloped us, affectionately looking at my eyes.

"I love you, too." I sighed in frustration, knowing she would only think it was simply of a friendly kind of love and thinking on that made me more exasperated. I was not in love with my boyfriend. "I don't think I love him the way I should and I've cheated on him so many times. It's not right anymore."

"Okay." She relented, tightly pressing her lips together. "But will you be okay?" She searched my eyes, searching for the answer to her question herself.

Camila had always easily seen through me. I mean, who am I kidding? I had bared my soul to her; most of it at least.

"Tell me I'm doing the right thing and don't answer me with a question." I looked at her sternly. She had always just asked me a question after I had asked her one, giving me the opportunity to decide by myself. Again, she was respecting my independence.

Camila is every man's dream at that.

"You are, as long as it will calm your heart. More importantly, make you happy." Camila simply retorted, her gentle smile unwavering.

"I'm so scared of the future." I let out a sigh in defeat, hanging my head down once more.

"Lauren, Abraham Lincoln once said: the best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time." She abandoned my hand and reached for my chin, gently adjusting my head so I was looking at her. "One day at a time, Lo."

I would have processed her words one more time but she abruptly stood up, pushing her seat back. "Do you want to go to bed? I think that's enough sadness for you."

"Cuddle." I hastily pouted, jutting my bottom lip out as I attached my brows in the middle which formed an arch.

"Of course." Camila beamed at me, holding her hand out for me to hold.

I held onto it, allowing her to pull me up and lead me to her room. She took the left side, like usual and I took the right. I immediately wrapped my arms around her, laying my head on her chest. It was one of the first few times we had been like that. I was always the one she cuddles to, not the other way around.

As expected, I was still wallowing in despondency as I tried to find reason for my behavior. There was a certain struggle to just bottle it up at the moment. I usually just think about it by myself and find a way out of it.

But Camila was there, like she always had been.

"The odd thing is, even though I almost hooked up with that Andrew guy, I felt violated with Jette's touching me." I mumbled painstakingly slowly as I aimlessly stared at the white shutters in front of my eyes. "This is all my fault."

Sitting in that living room, drinking with Andrew was my choice and what happened after that, I may not have encouraged but am at fault, too. I swallowed the toxic beverage by myself and allowed myself to get too drunk to fight the guy off. I had it coming.

But I could have easily thrown Jette out of my room and I didn't.

Camila swiftly sat up. Her eyes exuded the same intensity, the same darkness as when she saw Andrew. I never doubted Camila's protectiveness of me but I never knew she had it in her to kick someone in a place no less than his groin. I thought she would just talk to me and tell me all these quotes and some encouraging words, but after seeing her with Andrew, I knew she would physically fight anyone off just to protect me.

"She touched you?!" Camila was fuming. By the way her forehead creased, furrowed brows with that hardened jaw, I knew what was about to happen. "This has gone too far, Lauren. None of this is your fault! Are you kidding me?!"

She attempted to stand up but I held onto her, imploring her to stay.

"I don't need you to fight my battles right now; so, stay with me. I need you to stay with me. Please?" I looked at her in those darkened eyes as mine slowly brimmed with tears.

Without another word, she settled back in bed with me and I resumed my hold on her. Her breathing had become laborious but was slowly going back to the steady rise and fall. She was aimlessly looking at the glass door. I could tell she was thinking and I probably knew better than to ask her a question but I did anyway.

"Jette said you used to love her." I blurted out without my head catching on to my tongue. Somehow, out of all the things Jette had said that night, that little detail attached itself on my mind like an opportunistic leech. "What happened, Camz?"

Camila didn't answer me. I thought I would set her off and have her storm out of her own room. Instead, she held onto me tighter and kissed my forehead as she sucked a lungs-worth of air.

"Quit being mysterious." I jested, lightly slapping her arm.

"I'm not. I'm just thinking." She defended with a tone lacking her usual playfulness.

I had caused that and I would have slapped myself on the forehead if she wasn't around. And yet, my questions came like unrestrained bullets, effortlessly cruising through weightless air.

"But, Camz," I aimlessly looked across the room as I searched for the words to say. "What's wrong with her? Why does she drink too much?"

Camila sighed but it wasn't because she was worked up. Her heartbeat didn't speed up, it remained constant and probably slower.

"Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: every vice is only an exaggeration of a necessary and virtuous function. She might have felt the need to drink. That's could be what's going on with her." She plainly answered, stroking my arm. "I told you, while some people learn from the pain, she became the pain."

I hummed in agreement, relenting as I allowed myself to yawn yet unwilling to close my eyes for longer than a split second.

"Go to sleep." Camila ordered, squeezing my arm.

"I'm scared." I admitted as I buried my face on her chest, seeking comfort. "I keep seeing his face, Camz. I keep seeing their faces."

"I'm right here." Camila cooed, kissing my head once again. "I'm right here, Lauren. I love you, alright?"

I took a deep breath, overwhelmed with so much emotion than I could handle. I was usually self-reliant but I let her become the person I was relying on. I needed her to.

"I know. I love you."

I listened to Camila's breathing knowing that she had not drifted off to sleep. She was thinking intently and it was quite obvious that something was bothering her. She may have not been speaking but with the frequency of our sleep overs, I had memorized the rhythm of her heart.

She was thinking about something and I couldn't wait to pry it out of her.