Along These Trodden Paths [Camren]

Chapter Four

So Lauren keeps dating Keaton, and it remains an ever-present secret from her parents who Camila knows would never approve of her having a boyfriend. She's also 80% pretty sure Clara Jauregui suspects something from the sharp eyed look she gives Lauren every time a particularly flimsy excuse is presented to her for an otherwise unexplainable absence or occurrence. Camila has an deeply set paranoia that Clara is going to realise that she's the weaker link and interrogate her on the issue.

The previous week the two of them had been sitting dully in Lauren's kitchen attempting their Math homework- an error of judgment in hindsight but the air had a sticky, suffocating quality that day and Lauren's room had been unbearably muggy, leading them to opt for the mercifully cooler kitchen instead. Camila's concentration had been waning, and she found her eyes drifting to focus with unnecessary intensity on a small fly that had dropped into her lukewarm coke and was flailing desperately. In the background Lauren was huffing about the question they were stuck on, erasing her sums with aggressive, twitchy movements. Neither of them were very good at Math. Camila lazily stuck a finger into her glass and swirled it, trying to save the doomed insect. She couldn't seem to bring it to the safety; it would always slip down the condensation on the glass and back into it's syrupy hell.

Camila had empathy for the fly. Lately she felt like she was drowning in her own personal hell. The atmosphere in her house had become unbearable; a constant crackling of negative electricity in the air, sparks of tension flying whenever her parents were in the same room together. She was kept up at night by their hushed, nasty arguing in the bedroom across the hall. Fighting tears, she'd lie there furiously clenching and unclenching her fists, counting the cracks in her ceiling, anything to distract her from the sound of her family falling apart. It would take her hours to fall asleep, leading her to wake up with dark smudges under her eyes. It had reached the point where she had started skipping family breakfasts, preferring instead to grab something to go over the suffocating silence of her parents antagonism.

Too preoccupied she was with watching the fly's struggle, and Lauren with her rage against Math, the two didn't note the familiar click of the oak front door shutting as Clara returned home from work. She was a Math teacher at a local Grammar school- a talent her daughter clearly didn't share- and often stayed behind until around six marking and lesson planning. The two girls jumped in surprise at her sudden appearance.

"Hola niñas."

"Mamá why do you creep up on us like that?" Lauren's voice was indignant, impatient even. Clara looked bemused as she reached into the cupboard for a glass. Then she spied the Math sheet in front of Lauren. "Ah, Math. That explains it." She reached to turn the sheet towards her but Lauren used the tips of her fingers to slide it pettily away. "I don't need your help." She loathed not being able to do things.

"Watch that attitude young lady." Clara responded sharply, turning back to the fridge to get some juice out.

A tense minute passed before Lauren huffed and stood up, wiping a dainty hand across her sweaty forehead."It's too hot to concentrate." She whined, heading toward the tap but a hand on her shoulder turned her abruptly toward her Mom.

"Wha- Mami? I'm sorry okay, you're right I hate Math-" Clara ignored her, instead taking a firm hold on her chin and tilting it to the side so her neck was exposed. The heat meant that both Lauren and Camila had their hair tied up, and in Lauren's case, this meant a rather sizeable hickey was visible on her throat, just under the line of her jaw.

"What is that?" Clara's voice was hard. Camila swore her heart froze in its cage for a second, paralysed on Lauren's behalf. She stole a glance at her and noticed Lauren go still for a moment before swallowing and schooling her features into a perfect portrayal of irritated confusion.