a sum of small things | camren (au)

barcelona | july | part II

There's more than a thousand miles between the place where you grew up and where you're currently seated in the London Royal Opera House - but the taste of Barcelona is burning right on your tongue. The dust of the hiking trail, salty beach air, burning alcohol from plastic red solo cups, Camila's mouth right on-

Not yet.

First, there's the bar and the night and the heat and her smile. Drops of vodka on her lips. First, there's this.

:::

july

:::

"Your mother is on her way over."

It sobers you right up.

"Fuck - what-"

"Chris just called me," Lucy snaps. "You need to get out of here right now."

"But I - what is - how do you-" you stammer, not able to move into action yet. Your head is spinning. Your body is entirely taut with unresolved tension, hips still angled in Camila's direction. You try to look at her over Lucy's shoulder.

"He tried to call you, but you weren't answering your phone," Lucy says, grabbing your shoulders rather roughly, barely lowering her voice when rolls her eyes and snaps, "Jesus, Lo - how about a little less eye-fucking right now a little more focus on the fact that your mother is minutes away from-"

The door of the bar slams open and your heart drops to your stomach.

Fuck.

The sight of your mother and the force with which she opened the door is enough to cause a wave of disruption in the bar. There's half a confused moment and then your classmates all seem to realize at once who is standing in the doorway to the bar. Disruption fades into shocked and fearful silence. Even the bartenders look a little intimidated by your mother's sudden appearance, though they clearly don't realize just how much you're all about to be in trouble.

Your mother's eyes catch on you and your breath falters. Her voice is cold like ice when she says, "All of you. Outside. Right now."

//

With every "what on earth were you thinking" and "this is absolutely unacceptable" and "I am beyond furious with all of you" your mother spits out, the heavy haze inside your head clears more. Guilt is seeping through your veins. You stare at the ground, trying to avoid your mother's eyes. Even though you've already arrived in the lobby ten minutes ago, it doesn't look like she's going to stop lecturing you any time soon. The other students are tensed up all around you, giving each other fearful looks when your mother once again bites out that the rules where very clear and she could easily kick all of you out of the summer school program at once.

Keaton's standing right next to you, hands shoved down the pockets of his shorts, eyes wide in shock. You try to give him something of a reassuring smile - you know your mother is not just going to suspend you all over this - but he doesn't notice.

You swallow hard; the effect of the Clara Jauregui way of reprimanding is something you're all too familiar with.

"Off to bed," your mother snaps finally, when it looks like half the girls are on the verge of crying. "Tomorrow morning, I want all of you ready at 8 a.m. sharp. No excuses. Anyone who is even a second late will be suspended for the rest of the program. Is that understood?"

There's a soft murmur around you.

"Good," your mother says. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to have a private word with my daughter."

There's something about the way she nearly spits out the last word that tightens in your chest. When you look up, you accidentally catch Camila's eyes. She's still standing pretty close to you and it sends a strange sort of shockwave through your body, because for a second you wish you could just grab her hand and keep her next to you for another moment longer, pull her close for reassurance.