*all rights to the original author*
I was slamming the front door to my house shut not two seconds later. "Camila?" My mother called nervously.
"Why are girls always so complicated?"
My mother’s worry was replaced with a laugh. "It’s just genetic, hon. What happened?" My mom was making cookies, and when I spied the open bag of chocolate chips on the counter I grabbed a spoonful of peanut butter. "Nothing. Lauren’s just delusional," I explained, my annoyance quickly draining—peanut butter dipped in chocolate chips always makes me feel better. "She’s got this crazy idea in her head that she’s my girlfriend and won’t let me tell her otherwise."
"Oh?" My mother was trying really hard to play it cool, but her voice cracked.
"Anyway, it doesn’t matter because she’s not."
My mom turned on her mixer then, but she’d been so distracted by the thought of me having a girlfriend that she’d put too many cups of flour in the cookie dough, and the beaters jammed up tight in the thick goo. When they got stuck, the roar of the mixer morphed into a low hum.
Something clicked in my head, and I gasped. The noise from the woods. How could I have forgotten!
"Camila?" My mother was now just staring at me, her face a mixture of surprise and concern.
I didn’t know what to say. Like I was going to tell her about Carter. If she knew he was back, the first thing she’d do was tell my dad, and then one of two things would happen. He’d either be in Folsom Prison by the end of the night for killing Carter, or he’d be there for murdering me when he found out I was having super practices with Lauren.
"Camila?" My mom asked again. She was taking her apron off now.
"Sorry!" I blurted out. "I was just—" I reached up lightning fast and yanked off one of my earrings. "I lost one of my earrings," I mumbled. "They’re my favorite." My mom took a visible breath of relief but still gave me a sympathetic smile. "Oh, I just hate it when that happens. Remember the pearl stud I lost in Chicago the last time we went? I’m still irked about that."
I nodded absently, telling myself that I wasn’t stupid for completely forgetting about Carter. I was justifiably preoccupied with having fried my girlfriend.
Not my girlfriend! Ugh! Now she had me thinking it!
Anyway.
"I think I’m going to go look for it," I said quickly. "I mean, if anyone can find it, it’s me, right?" My mom smiled proudly as I ran out the door. "While you’re at it, you should do a sweep of Chicago and find mine too!"
I actually got to Lauren’s house a minute before she did. She was clearly startled when she pulled up to the curb and saw me waiting on her porch. She jumped out of the truck and I bounded across the lawn to her at superspeed.
"Camila?" Lauren asked when I stopped just short of her open arms. "What is it? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Are your parents okay?"
"Lauren, that reporter that showed up here? He didn’t go home after you broke his nose. He knows my secret! He has proof!"
"What? How?"
"He was at the cabin today! I thought I saw him, but it was right after the lightning thing, and you were lying there unconscious so I didn’t go see, and then I completely forgot! And now it’s too late!
And he’s going to expose me! And now I’ve got you involved, and he’s going to ruin your life too!" The more I spoke, the more upset I became. But now that Lauren knew what was going on, she curbed her own anxiety. "Okay," she said gently. "Okay. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. But you need to calm down before you completely lose it."
