Camila walked out of the school, walked to her car, got in, and drove. She didn't cry-it was too late to cry. She just drove. She drove down long interstates and highways, through small 15 miles per hour neighborhood streets with kids running up and down glossy sidewalks, through alley ways in the city that homeless people took advantage of for at least some sense of safety.
She drove through parks, through movie theater parking lots, through every little crescent area of small town Florida, and when she ran out of gas completely, she stopped on the side of a little road with three flag poles in the yard beside her.
There was no one around, and she was too embarrassed to call anyone. She should've known not to drive until her gas burnt out all the way. Stupid.
Maybe she should take the pills. Maybe she should listen to Lauren. What was she worth? What could she do for people other than create a sexual sensation that she never felt? What would she contribute to the world worth anything at all other than wrinkled fives, tens, and twenties? What was the point anymore? What was the real, actual, physical point? Because obviously trying wasn't succeedinCamila was just too tired;
she was done.
oooo
Camila walked for three hours down back roads, following street light after street light until she found herself home. She entered the quiet house, realizing no one was there as soon as she came in the door.
The lights were all out, and there was a single note on a small table beside the stairs: Kaki- we went out for the night, took Sofi with us. Don't wait up! This relieved Camila, because how in the world could she explain to her parents that her car was on a random street three neighborhoods over, empty tanked and completely abandoned? She'd call Harry and ask for his help later. But now, she needed time to think, time to feel, time to regret, and time to decide.
She had to decide what the hell she was going to do. There were so many options, so little time. Camila looked down at the small, white bottle still tightly secure in her hands. General aspirin.
She didn't know if this could even kill her, no matter how many she took. It was only aspirin. She'd taken plenty of these before to help her sleep, but that's all they ever did-put her to sleep. Would a full bottle put her to sleep for good?
She could figure it out, of course, but she didn't know if she wanted to. There were so many things she could and could not do. There were so many people who wouldn't care if she did this.
There would undoubtedly be disappointment from her parents, of course; she'd recently given them hope for her changing, like they'd always wanted. God, what about Sofi? It'd kill her. Camila owed her sister more than a legacy like that one.
But then there was Lauren. There was something about Lauren that didn't seem fitting to Camila. There was the way she looked at Camila when she saw her the first time in the dress she wore. Camila couldn't deny to herself that there was something like hope in Lauren's eyes-something like relief, almost content. But then those expressions changed. There was when Lauren came to her house, when they kissed, when it was more than anything Camila could have ever hoped for in a first kiss with the girl she almost thought she could love. There was something gained in that kiss, a type of joy and excitement in the kiss that couldn't be faked-a type of a rush that came directly from Lauren, radiated off the girl in sparks that told Camila that she had a chance directly without words.
But that disappeared too, as soon as Lauren broke away. And when Lauren apologized-actually apologized-for what she was about to do... she'd never done that before. She'd never spoken allowed the regret she held for anything horrible she'd done to Camila. She'd shown her regret for the very first time and it actually meant something.
Camila couldn't tell herself in good heart that all of these things were false, that Lauren had deceived her relentlessly, that she was nothing in Lauren's eyes, that Lauren hated her. Even when Lauren gave her these pills, there was something in those emerald eyes that said, don't. don't take these. I don't want to lose you.
But how the hell did any of that make sense? Lauren couldn't love Camila, that would be the equivalent of defying gravity. But Camila couldn't ignore these dumb signs. There was something there. There was something that could make or break her, something that could change everything. She just had to find it.
And she knew exactly the way to do it.
oooo
There was some party tonight, something Camila saw on her twitter feed that apparently everyone-Lauren included of course-was going to. And it was her golden opportunity. She was going to tear Lauren to shreds. She'd called Harry-he helped her get her car. He brought the gas back to her car for her and she drove off after thanking him, calling over her shoulder how sorry she was for everything that had happened. He just smiled and waved.
Camila eventually pulled up in front of a small white house, obviously steaming with kids inside. There was music that could be heard two turns back, and cars lined the street and the street before this one. Camila couldn't find a place to park until she was almost to the back of the neighborhood.
Then she walked back to the house, realizing what she was about to do could ruin everything. Her hands were shaking and there was a fine line of sweat working its way across her forehead, down her back, on her hands. Her legs were jelly, and she was scared to death she would die right here. But that didn't matter.
It was time.
Camila walked through the front door of the house, worked through the crowd around her, recognizing some people here and there, not ever saying hello. There was no time for that. She clutched tightly to the small white bottle in her hands and trudged on through the storm until she found exactly the emerald-eyed girl she was looking for.
Lauren turned and saw Camila, eyes daggers. There were girls on either side of Lauren, her little posse, arms crossed, ready to defend their leader if there were more punches thrown.
Lauren's left eye was circled in purple, and honestly, it just made her hotter. Camila blushed a little, realizing how horrible that was considering she was the one that caused this damage.
"What the hell are you doing here, Cabello? Wanna bang on me a little more? You know, either with your firsts or with your..." And Lauren looked down Camila's body. After she did so, she turned to one girl on her right, making a gagging sign with her finger down her throat. Camila's face grew red, and Lauren only laughed harder.
"No, actually, Jauregui, I wanted to give you something. A present if you will." Camila stood taller at this, and Lauren looked slightly intrigued. She lifted one eyebrow.
"Fine, then. What is it?" She said it in an exasperated tone, and Camila grabbed Lauren's right hand and placed a small, white, empty bottle there. She closed Lauren's fingers around it, and when Lauren registered what had taken place before her, she looked up to Camila anxiously. "No."
Camila's eyes grew wet with tears."Yeah. Hey, Lauren, take this as a favor. I'm about to disappear."
And Camila ran out of the house.
A/N-I love you guys so much. Hang in there. Gracias por el apoyo, te amo muuuuchhhooooo.
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Habit
FanfictionHabit is about the way your past can anchor you down, it's about finding someone who can help you have faith in a better tomorrow, it's in reference to how little you can feel when it seems like you're all alone in this world. Camila struggles with...