BELONGS TO ME

Chapter 47

Dual pov

Camila

My knee bounces restlessly as we pull into the parking lot in front of my dorm room.

It's odd, to recognize everything so fully, but not know if it's from the visit we took here last year or the semester I called this place my home.

Since all five of us needed to come and go through our things, we decided to ride up as together in Carl's Tahoe. The boys carry my and Hailee's suitcases, chatting about the mess they left their rooms in as we make our way inside and onto the elevator.

Hailee presses the number three, and I log that into my memory. The boys speak, and I smile in response, but I have no idea what they said. My heart is pounding in my ears, leaving no room for anything else.

Maybe I shouldn't be, but I'm nervous.

What if I hate it?

Does that mean I'm different? That I changed and I don't even know it?

What if I walk in and all my memories come flooding back, overwhelming me?

What if I walk in and they don't?

Before I realize it, I'm standing in front of a cheap wooden door, the number 311 hanging beside it. Pulling the keys from my pocket, I slide it in the lock and turn.

The door swings open and I hold my breath.

It's with shaky steps that I ease inside, and the moment I cross the threshold, the weight on my shoulders lessens.

A smile breaks over my face as I look to the candles on the countertops, a translucent bowl half full of wine corks and bottle caps between them.

I glance at Hailee.

She picks it up, shaking it a little. "This is everything we consumed as besties since move-in day. Group caps are unworthy."

"That sounds solid." I run my fingertips over the counter, slipping into the living room.

The pillows are purple and white, fluffy, and there's two matching blankets folded neatly—definitely not by me—and hidden under the glass of the coffee table.

The remotes are in a giant cup that reads 'size does matter' and the rug beneath my feet is a fuzzy black. "I see I won on the rug."

"Yes, you did, and thank god, cause Harry totally spilled root beer float all over it."

"Guilty as charged," he shouts from the entryway.

I turn to them, all three pretending they're not waiting for me to have a mental breakdown, understandably so.

I haven't talked much since everything with Lauren. Granted it was only two days ago, but still. It's noticeable, maybe even more so when I learned she left for campus, without a word, only hours after we got back from her favorite place.

"I'm going to go check out my room," I tell them. "You guys can go to your place. Just come back when you're done."

No one moves, so I do, and only then does Hailee turn to them and begin to whisper.

She promises we're fine, and that she'll call if there's a need, but I don't stick around to hear the rest.

I step into the room that has my name stenciled across the door, quietly closing it behind me and quickly spinning to face the plywood a long moment before I convince myself to turn around.

My stomach churns, but as I allow myself to glance along the small space, my mind eases.

I smile at the wall of string lights and walk over to find the power button located on the outlet cube. Turning them on, the bright white lights begin to twinkle, earning a low laugh from me, and I plop onto the fluffy white comforter my parents bought me before move-in.