Serendipity (Camren)

Chapter 16: Chritmas With The Cabello's

Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret." - Ambrose Bierce

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Now that it was over, the guilt began to set in, and Lauren knew she needed to say something. "Camila-" she began.

Camila, who had been nuzzling Lauren's neck in the afterglow, glanced up at the odd tone in Lauren's voice. The regret shining on the singer's face was obvious, and it made her angry. "No." she said, interrupting Lauren and pushing her roughly away. "Don't you dare apologize to me." Then she walked stiffly over and gathered up her shirt and pants where they had been carelessly flung. "There are blankets in the hall closet," she threw back behind her as she stalked to her bedroom and slammed the door.

Standing there dumbly at first, Lauren finally found her voice. "Camila!" she called too late. Goddamn it!

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At some point the next morning, Lauren woke up on the couch- cold- with a merciless headache and a hollow pang in her chest. She opened her eyes and stared at the fireplace that contained nothing more than a few glowing embers. The icy rain had stopped sometime in the night as she huddled under the blankets. Camila hadn't come out of her room, and Lauren hadn't tried to talk to her through the door. What would happen this morning, she had no idea. For the past two years, she hadn't seen a girl for more than a few hours at a time and was woefully out of practice with the whole "morning after" talks, especially when the girl in question was pissed at her. Lauren crawled off the couch and began to remake the fire. At least she could do this.

In her bedroom, Camila was staring at the ceiling in the relative darkness of the early morning. She'd barely slept, she was cold, and she was hurt. What had she hoped to get out of last night? Certainly not Lauren. Clearly Lauren wasn't capable of having any meaningful relationships. She was too frightened and too stubborn to make time for anyone after Carrie, and now Camila had become one of her flings. Dammit! If only she could stop the crushing ache squeezing her lungs.

When Camila walked out into the living room, the fire was going again, and Lauren was near the window, her head leaning on it as she looked out, a cup of coffee in her hand. "I made a pot," she mentioned, pointing to her cup as she continued to watch the motionless scene outside. "Good thing you have a gas stove."

"Thanks," was the other girl's somber reply.

Lauren turned then and saw the distress in Camila's face, "Listen, Camz- Camila," she corrected when Camila's head jerked at the sound of her shortened name on Lauren's lips, "I'm sorry about last night. I was out of line. It shouldn't have happened. It's my fault. I just- I can't-" Her words tumbled out of her in stilted sentences as she tried to explain.

Camila's head bowed down and she placed her hands on the nearby counter for support, "I told you not to apologize, and I meant it. We both made the mistake." She choked on that last word before continuing, "Let's just try to move past it, okay?" Lauren nodded, "Okay." She knew last night had been a mistake, but when Camila had confirmed it, for some reason, the word wrenched her chest.

"I'm going to make some calls. Maybe someone has power."

"Okay," Lauren said again, turning back around to look outside.

"Hi, Mom," Camila said into the phone as she sat on her bed rubbing her forehead and trying to smooth out her own frown.

"What's wrong?" Her mom's question was sharp and immediate upon hearing her daughter's voice.

"Nothing's wrong," she demurred, "We don't have power here because the storm knocked it out. How's everything at the cabin?"

"Fine. Your father is getting a little stir crazy, though, so we're thinking of heading back. Would you be okay with having Christmas at our house instead? Would that be okay with your friend?"