Kissed by an angel (camren)

Chapter 7

Song suggestion:
Mac Miller-Best Day Ever
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"But you're a dog person," Gary said on Friday afternoon. "You've always been a dog person."

"I think my parents will enjoy a cat," Lauren replied. She moved quickly around the living room, clearing piles of stuff off the chairs: her mother's pediatrics journals, her father's hospital schedules and stacks of papers, her own swim schedules and old copies of sports illustrated, the previous nights tub of chicken. Her parents would wonder why she had gone to all the trouble. Usually the three of them sat on the floor to read or eat.

Gary was watching her and frowning. "You think your parents will enjoy it? Does the cat have a disease? Does it have a religion? If your mother the doctor can't cure it and your father can't cure it or counsel it—"

"All homes need a pet," Lauren cut in.
"In homes where there's a cat, the people are the pets. I'm telling you Lo, cats have minds of their own. They're worse than girls. If you think Camila can drive you crazy—wait a minute. . .wait a minute. . ." Gary tapped his finger on the table. "I remember an ad on the bulletin board."
"That's nice," Lauren said, and handed her friend his gym bag. "You said you had to get home early today."

Gary dropped his bag. He had figured out what was up. "And miss this? I was there the last time you made a fool of yourself, why shouldn't stay for the fun this time?" He threw himself down on the rug in front of the fireplace.

"You're really enjoying my misery, aren't you?" Lauren murmured.
Gary rolled over on his back and put his hands behind his head. "Lauren, me and the rest of the gang have been watching you get all the girls for the last three years—no, for the last seven, you were hot even in fifth grade. Darn right I'm enjoying it!"

Lauren grimaced, then turned her attention to a coffee stain that seemed to have tripled in size since she'd last noticed it. She had no idea how to get something like that out of a rug.

She wondered if Camila would find her family's old frame house small and worn and unbelievably cluttered.

"So, whats the deal?" Gary asked. "One date for taking her cat? Maybe one date for each week you keep it," he suggested.
"Her friend Dinah said she's very attached to this cat." Lauren smiled, rather pleased with herself. "I'm offering visitations rights."

Gary snorted. "What happens when Camila doesn't miss the old furball anymore?"
"She'll miss me," Lauren said, sounding confident.

The door bell rang. Her confidence evaporated.

"Quick, how do you pick up a cat?"
"Buy her a drink."
"I'm serious!"
"By the tail."
"You're kidding!"
"Yup. I'm kidding."

The doorbell rang again. Lauren hurried to answer it. Was it her imagination, or did Camila blush a little when she opened the door? Camila cheeks were definitely rosy. Her hair was naturally breathtaking and her chocolate colored eyes were so beautiful. They were just so brown but so damn beautiful.

"I've brought Ella," she said.
"Ella?"
"My cat."
Looking down, Lauren saw all kinds of animal equipment and necessities on the porch beside her.

"Oh, Ella! Great. Great." Why did she always reduce her to one word sentences?
"You're still interested, aren't you?" A small line of worry creased her brow.