Somewhere Only We Know

XXXI - Warmth

11:03 a.m.

A few hours later, the room was cloaked in darkness, save for the soft glow of the TV screen casting flickering light across the walls. Camila sat comfortably on the bean bag chair nearby, wrapped snugly in the fluffy blanket I had spread out earlier. Phone in hand, she started giggling at a video she was watching. Neither of us was really paying any mind to the movie playing.

"Hey, come check this out," she called softly, patting the space beside her.

I shifted, sitting up and moving closer as she held out her phone. She played a random video—something silly and unexpected—and we both burst out laughing, the sound light and easy in the quiet room. "Kinda looks like Jackson in year 8," I commented, making her laugh even more.

After a few moments, Camila set her phone down, her smile softening. She leaned back and sighed, eyes distant. "Remember when we used to stay up all night just talking about everything and nothing? Feels like a lifetime ago."

I nodded, feeling the warmth of those memories settle between us, a quiet reminder of the bond that had brought us here tonight. "Yeah, then my mom would barge into my room, telling us to be quiet." She chuckled at the memory, adding "Oh, yeah," as she shifted on the bean bag, facing me completely. "You know, I never expected Auntie to get remarried after all the stories you told me."

I sighed. "Me neither, dude."

4:21 p.m., June 2, 2018, Saturday

On a warm summer afternoon at the end of my freshman year, I was in my room, settling into an FPS shooter game. The intensity quickly got the better of me, and I couldn't help but shout a string of curses and frustrated words into my mic. The tension in my voice must have echoed through the apartment. "Get off the game and submit a job application, bitch!"

Suddenly, my door swung open aggressively. Camila stood there, a bag in one hand and her laptop balanced in the other, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Seriously, Max?" she said, raising an eyebrow. The playful interruption broke through the tension, pulling me out of my gaming frustration. "Your mom let me in. I've been knocking for the past 5 minutes," she continued as she dropped her bag at the foot of my bed. "Oops," I said as I removed my headphones. "Did she say anything?" I asked, turning in my chair. "Well, she looked pissed by my constant presence, but no."

It's not that my mom doesn't like her; it's just that she's always over and eating our food. One time, she even brought a dog, which enraged my mother.

"Well, what do you wanna do? I need to piss real quick." I said, standing from my chair, then walking out of the room. Before I went into the bathroom, she shouted, "Why is your most recently opened page a news article about Jesse Davidson?" making me stop in my tracks. I quickly ran back to my room, only to find her already comfortable on my bed, with my phone glowing next to her.

I sighed, jumping next to her on the bed. I moved around, positioning myself to face the ceiling. "Are you stalking him again?" she asked, shifting around. "Well, I wouldn't say stalking. I've just been curious about his whereabouts lately." I paused before pushing myself to sit up and face her. "It's not a big deal, you know? I'm not gonna run out and search for him." She sighed, adding "Again." Before also sitting up.

"Hey, I had my reasons," I stated, playing with her hair. "You said you'd come over next week. What's up?" I asked, holding her free hand in mine. She exhaled dramatically, leaning against my bed frame. "Oh, you know," she paused, sighing. "My parents got to talking again about moving to Maine," she continued, cracking her knuckles. "You know, they've actually been slipping postcards from my aunt who lives there. As if it'd convince me at all."