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Chapter 17

Lauren

Camz...

Lauren punched send and waited. They'd been playing text tag all morning. Although, honestly, she didn't know how much of it was really text tag and how much was Camila just taking her time to reply. She had heard "I'm not mad" no less than eighteen times the night before. "Of course, I understand" came in at eleven times. She knew both of those things were true. Camila wasn't mad, she was disappointed. And Camila did understand, it just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for either of one of them. Nothing was fair about being so far away.

She had said "I wish I could" probably a hundred times last night. She had said it to Camila, to herself, to inanimate objects. That was true, too. She did wish she could go to Seattle. She wanted to be with Camila. She wanted to be with Camila anywhere and everywhere and in every way. And she would be. She'd be with Camila sometime, somewhere, somehow. She knew that without question. It just wouldn't be then.

Camila

?

Lauren sighed at her reply. A question mark. Pretty fitting, though. There were so many things she hadn't told Camila yet. So many things she wanted to say, but couldn't find the courage or the right time. She wanted to tell Camila that she cried for hours after she left New York. She wanted to tell Camila that she refreshed the Sea-Tac airport website every 30 seconds to make sure her flight landed safely. She wanted to tell Camila she had never slept as well as she did when she was tangled up with her. She wanted to tell Camila her apartment had never felt so quiet without her laugh. She wanted to tell Camila she'd never felt more at home than when the brunette's clothes were thrown all over the floor. She wanted to tell Camila she had already bought a plane ticket to Seattle for Thanksgiving. She wanted to tell Camila that she was in love with her.

Lauren

Hi.

But she couldn't just yet.

She looked up from her phone to find Dinah studying her sketches of Ariana's pre-premiere attire on the magnetic board. She loved weeks like this. She lived for weeks like this. She started months early with little paper outfits and a Ariana Grande made perfectly to scale on a tongue depressor. When the time had arrived, she was fully prepared with storyboards for each day. This was Dinah's time to shine. This was her week to be the queen of the master closet.

"I hate weeks like this," Lauren said. "I just don't understand why we need to have so many pre-parties and a pre-premiere event. That movie is going to bomb anyway."

"Ariana loves Premiere Week. I love Premiere Week. You're the only one who doesn't love it, Lauren. You're outvoted."

"It's ridiculous."

"You're just mad because you can't sit around all day sexting with Camila."

"I am mad about that, yes," Lauren answered. "It doesn't make this any less ridiculous, though. Celebrating Ariana's overly inflated ego doesn't seem like the best use of my time."

"I've been meaning to ask about that," Dinah turned to her.

"Ariana's overly inflated ego?"

"No," Dinah shook her head. "I'm familiar with the ego, I mean you and Camila and...you know."

"The sexting? That's none of your business," she answered with a growl.

"So, not well," Dinah tried not to laugh at her obvious annoyance. "But that's not what I wanted to know about either. How's the long distance thing?"

"It's hard." She subconsciously tapped her phone. "Harder than I thought it would be, and I knew as soon as she was gone that it was going to be fucking awful."