Chapter 13

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Camila

It's ten to ten when there's a knock at the door. Several seconds of groaning into my blankets pass, but Hailee's feet never stomp along the linoleum floor, and then I remember she poked her head in earlier to tell me she was leaving.

A second knock sounds and I flop onto my back, huffing at the ceiling, slowly pulling myself to my feet.

"Com—" I try to speak, but my voice is a croaky mess, so I clear my throat and try again. "Coming," I yawn mid-word, using all the muscles that are working right now to unlock and open the door.

My eyes widen, my body freezing, and autopilot has me slamming the thing closed as soon as I've opened it.

A deep chuckle echoes through from the other side, and I lightly bang my forehead against the cheap wood.

"You have got to be kidding me," I whisper.

"Come on, Queen C. Open up." Humor is clear in her tone. "I've already seen you now."

I groan, shifting slightly to look in the mirror beside the door. I lick my fingers and rub beneath my eyes, attempting to rid myself of some of the black eyeliner that made its way down my face and smooth the Alfalfa-esque hair down that's sticking up all over the place.

Taking a deep breath, I shake the sleeves of the hoodie I stole from Carl, until it's swallowed my hands, and bring it up to my mouth.

I pull the door open, and I'm met with a big, bright morning bunny smile, the kind that demands one in return, despite the horror and embarrassment of my appearance.

"Morning, sunshine."

My eyes narrow playfully and I take a step back, welcoming her inside. "Good morning, Lauren." I close the door and lean against it, crossing my arms over my braless chest.

I watch wordlessly as she takes the few steps toward the kitchen, setting a drink holder ,of what I assume are coffees, and a café bag on the bar-like countertop. Lauren pulls a water bottle from the pocket of her hoodie, twists off the cap and sets it down beside the other items. Her hand slips into the front pocket of her jeans next, sliding right back out with a small bottle of Excedrin, and finally, my tired, hungover mind catches on.

Lauren didn't only come here to check on me; she came to take care of me.

It's clear she's been up for a while. She's bright-eyed and fresh in a pair of jeans, a lightweight gray hoodie similar to the one I'm wearing, and her Black hair swiped to the right, like she ran a quick hand through it and called it a day.

She turns to me, her face all-business.

"Here." She lifts her closed fist, holding my gaze with her.

I suppress a grin as I push off the door and meet her where she stands, opening my hand as requested.

She pushes my sweatshirt back with the inner part of her middle finger and my eyes drop to the contact, confused when the exposed skin of my wrist prickles. Lauren sets the pills in my palm, quickly passing me the water bottle.

Water in one hand, pills in the other, my eyes lift to her.

A soft smile forms along her lips as if in answer to the question I didn't have to ask.

"I wanted to make sure you were all right. Hailee showed up at the house about an hour ago and said you were still in bed," she tells me.

My face transforms into a frown before I can stop it, let alone process the reason why, and Lauren laughs.

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