Kissed by an angel (camren)

Chapter 8

Song Suggestion:
Phora-Love is hell
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Camila took a long route home that afternoon, driving a road that ran south from the center of Stonehill, following a tangle of shady streets lined with newer houses. She drove round and round, unwilling to make the final turn and head for the ridge. There was so much to think about. Why was Lauren doing this? Was she just feeling sorry for her? Did she want to be her friend? Did she want more than a friendship?

But it wasn't these questions that kept her driving. It was the luxury of remembering, how Lauren looked rising out of the water, a shimmer of drops spilling off her, how she had touched her, gently, so gently.

At home, she'd have to listen to her mother's story about the latest round of snobbery that Sinu was encountering, she'd talk about the ups and downs of Sofi's life as a third grader, she'd find a new way to say thanks for the things Andrew kept giving her, and walk on eggshells around Gregory. With all that going on, the moments of the afternoon would fade and be lost forever.

In her mind, Camila saw Lauren in slow motion, swimming in a circle around her. She remembered the way her hands had felt when she helped her float, the way she had slowly tilted her head back in the water. She trembled with pleasure, and a little fear.

Angels, don't let go of me! She prayed.
This was something different from a crush. This was something that could flood out every other thought and feeling.

Maybe I should go back out now, Camila thought, before I'm in over my head. I'll call her tonight.
But then she remembered how she had pulled her through the water, her face full of light and laughter.

Camila didn't see the car coming. Lost in thought, responding only to what was directly in front of her, she didn't see the dark car run the stop sign until the very last second. She slammed on her brakes. Both cars squealed and spun around, and for a moment were side by side, lightly touching. Then they veered away from eachother. Letting her breath out slowly, Camila sat still in the middle of the intersection.

The other driver threw open his door. A stream of four letter words came rushing at her. Without even glancing in his direction, Camila rolled up her window and checked her door locks. The shouting stopped suddenly. Camila turned to look coolly at the driver.

"Gregory!"
She put her window down.
His skin was pale except for the scarlet that crept up his cheeks. He stared at her, then glanced around the intersection, looking surprised, as if he were just now recognizing where he was and what happened.

"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yes. . .yes. Are you?"
"Well, I'm breathing again."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I—I wasn't paying attention, I guess. And I didn't know it was you, Camila." Though his anger had subsided, he still looked upset.

"That's okay," she said. "I was driving in a daze too."
He glanced through the window at the wet towel on her front seat.
"What are you doing around here?" he wanted to know.
She wondered if he would make the connection between the wet towel and swimming and Lauren. But she hadn't even told Ally or Dinah what she was doing. Besides, it wouldn't matter to Gregory.

"I needed to think about something. I know it sounds crazy, with all the space we have at the house, but I, well—"
"Needed other space," he finished for her. "I know how that is. Are you heading home now?"
"Yes."
"Follow me." He gave her a brief, lopsided smile. "Behind me, you'll be safer."
"You're sure you're okay?" she asked. His eyes still looked troubled.