Our Deepest Scars

Chapter 24

~T/W~

Ripping open her bag and seizing her phone, Lauren called 911 immediately, telling the other end of the line her name, location and a brief explanation of what had happened. Chucking her phone to the ground once she had finished, the green eyed girl (who now had tears pooling in her emerald orbs) caressed Camila's face gently. The smaller girl's skin was cold to the touch, and paler than Lauren had ever seen it.

As if she could feel her girlfriend's hand pressing against her cheekbone, Camila's eyes opened slowly, fluttering her long eyelashes against her skin. She was aware of little except for the fact that she was lying on a hard, uncomfortable surface, and that the view above her was not the same as the view she usually woke up to on the tour bus.

"C-Camz!" Lauren cried joyfully, waves of relief washing over her. If she hadn't seen the smaller girl's chest moving haltingly up and down while she was unconscious, the older girl might have believed she was...well, at least she was awake now. "How do you feel?" she asked the tiny Latina, anxious for even a trivial reassurance.

Camila groaned at the pain emanating from her skull; this hadn't been at all improved by the fall to the ground. "Bad," the small girl croaked, lifting a hand gingerly to her forehead. "My head hurts...I still feel quite...weak and dizzy...my thoughts are all fuzzy..." The breathlessness in her tone shocked Lauren, and she hastily placed a hand on Camila's shoulder to prevent her from moving.

"Don't worry, Camz, the ambulance is on its way. They'll help you," Lauren assured with a forced smile. She thought this knowledge would have calmed Camila, but it didn't.

"What?" she said sharply, as loudly as was physically possible given her current state. "No! Lauren, I'm fine, I promise! It must have been because I didn't drink that water," she said in desperation, trying to reason with herself. Her chocolate eyes were wide with apparent terror at the concept of being taken to hospital.

Lauren was bewildered and confused. "Camz, it's okay. They'll just made sure you're okay and that no lasting damage has been done," the older girl told her petrified girlfriend. "Camila...they might try and help you with your...struggles with eating," she added quietly, holding the younger brunette's hand and compressing it with gentleness.

"But," Camila said in a shaky voice, "I'm fine."

Lauren shook her head, feeling defeated. I can't help her anymore. There's nothing else I can do or say to make her better, the green eyed girl decided. "You're not fine, Camila! You have a serious problem! And I'm sorry for saying that, but it's for your own good to get some professional help!" Anger was pulsing through Lauren's veins, and it was coming across in her words and tone.

The younger girl was staring at Lauren as if she didn't even recognize her. But all she said, in a very quiet and tearful voice, was, "Don't call me Camila. You only call me that when you're mad at me. The others call me Mila...you call me Camz."

Lauren turned her head away, her dark hair swinging like a curtain in front of her face, to protect herself from the words of her girlfriend. The taller girl loved Camila too much to let her go. She had to stay strong in order to get help for the petite girl. "Don't talk," she said shortly, a tear falling from her eye. "You don't have enough energy."

The tear made its way onto the bench beside her, and joined a small puddle of what was already a collection of tears from the smaller girl's eyes.

"Laur, I'm sorry," Camila mumbled, breaking the older brunette's heart promptly. "But please don't make me go to the hospital. They won't help me."

Lauren had to press her lips firmly together to stop herself from answering Camila comfortingly; if she showed any signs of weakness by compromising, the smaller girl would never get any help from professionals.