All Of Me | Camren

one

I'm going to try and publish a new chapter every Friday, and I will definitely mess up on that sometimes, but I'm trying!

We'll see how long that lasts 😬
—

Camila has always despised hospitals. From the stench of cleansing alcohol to the wails of family members, these places have always made her feel a certain unease. Today, it's worse. Today, walking into that hospital confirms that something is wrong with her. The girls arrived in Miami the night before, and Camila was quick to leave for her appointment this morning before the others, weary from travel, awoke. Now, a familiar sense of dread bubbles up inside her. Even as its cold grasp tightens around her flitting heart, she makes her way through the halls to her doctor's office. A sign on the door reads 'Dr. J Edwards', though she doesn't need the affirmation before knocking.

"Come in!" A voice calls from inside. She takes in a steadying breath before pushing open the shiny white door in the shiny white hallway, revealing the cooler blue room within and the ginger-bearded man sat behind his desk with a warm smile and a look of recognition on his face. "Camila!"

"Hey, Dr. Edwards." She returns, no such grin on her lips. Cautiously, she perches on the upholstered chair opposite the ruddy man whose broad, freckled hands sit crossed atop his desk.

He continues to smile down at her as she scans the objects on the desk: the silver nameplate, the freshly-sharpened pencils, the files which surely shouldn't be so carelessly placed in the open. After a curt nod, he speaks up again. "How are things?"

"It happened again." She confesses, words spilling from her as images of the bruise that curled around her friend's eye, of the bluish-purple hues twisting around her cheekbone, and of the way she flinched when Camila wiped away the makeup she was wearing to hide it, swarm her mind. Lauren. She'd hurt Lauren. "I didn't mean to do it, I- I don't even remember, I-"

He stops her with a gentle, "It's okay, Camila. We're going to help you."

She sighs, finally lifting her eyes from the table to meet his.

"I'm scared."

"Which is perfectly normal, I assure you. We're doing everything we can to give you an explanation as to why exactly this is happening, what exactly is going on. Unfortunately, it isn't as straightforward as books and tv shows would have you believe."

"I know. I get it." But she doesn't. A year. For just over a year, she has been trying to find out what's happening to her. Test after test, false claim after broken promise, Camila is over it all. She just wants it all to be over.

"Camila, if I remember correctly, you're here in Miami for a fortnight." He busies himself with looking through one of the drawers in his desk and when Camila hums in confirmation, he nods and straightens and adds, with carefully chosen words, "I think it's time we consider a... temporary solution."

Eyebrows furrowing, Camila questions nervously, "What are you suggesting?"

He hesitates, seeming to consider something before he nods to himself and holds out a selection of pamphlets towards the girl, closing the drawer behind them. She reaches out and carefully takes the small stack. As soon as her eyes fall over the bold lettering on the first leaflet, apprehension settles in her stomach.

...

When Camila returns to the bus, Ally leaps up from the sofa to engulf her in a hug. Despite the latter's small stature, she almost knocks over the younger girl before releasing her.

"Where were you? We looked everywhere for you. I have to tell the girls. They'll be so relieved." She blurts, not giving Camila a chance to respond before tugging her phone from her pocket and pressing it against her ear, "Yeah, I've got her. She came back... No, she seems fine... Okay, see you soon."

And with that, she pushes Camila, overwhelmed with the flurry of activity, onto the sofa.

"Where is everyone?" She questions, frowning up at Ally who peers out the windows, looking for the other three.

"They went out to find you."

All of a sudden, the three remaining members enter the bus, each looking physically and mentally exhausted.

"You know, a note would've been nice." Lauren scoffs on her way to the back, unable to stop herself. Camila's heart sinks as she watches the girl toss the door shut.

"Where were you, Mila? We woke up and you were just gone." Normani explains, gratefully taking a bottle of water from an out-of-breath Dinah, who turns to take another from the fridge for herself.

"Can't say." She mutters, "I'm gonna go to bed. I'm sorry, guys."

The others watch with heavy hearts as their friend shuffles to her bunk and clambers inside, closing the curtain behind her. They don't see her take the pamphlets from her pocket and look over them for a second before roughly shoving them under the sheets beneath her pillow, turning to her side and attempting yet again to hold in the sobs that want to tear from her throat; the same sobs that have her so exhausted each night that she fades out of consciousness without even realising until she awakes the following day. An explanation; that's all she wants, all she needs. Is that really too much to ask for?

In the back of the bus, nestled as comfortably as she can be on the tan leather sofa, Lauren angrily types away at her phone, sending messages to a relatively newly-formed group chat between the girls, excluding Camila.

I don't understand why she can't have decent manners, She types, It doesn't take much effort to leave a simple note or let us know she'll be out. She could've texted us.

True, Dinah replies, But that don't mean she's doing illegal shit

STUFF*, Ally corrects the girl, and Lauren hears the soft thud of a pillow before Dinah lets out a loud "Ow!" She would laugh, but it gets stuck in her throat when she remembers that the bunks aren't exactly soundproof.

Dinah succumbs to the older girl's glare and corrects herself: Stuff*

Ally sends a smiley face, and Lauren can almost see her 'I-thought-so' nod.

She does have a point tho L, Normani jumps in, I mean, do u really think Mila, our Mila, would actually do drugs?

Lauren hesitates, tapping her thumbs against the edges of her phone case, the phone case that Camila got her a little more than a year ago for the simple fact that the picture of the night sky on the back reminded her of Lauren. She huffs, sends one last message, and turns her attention to finding the remote for the little corner T.V.

It's the only thing that makes sense.