Calamity

Chapter 8

Lauren heard a quiet thump as her bag was dropped onto the floor. Getting ready to tear apart the person who just sat down next to her, she opened her mouth and froze when she saw it was Camila.

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Well, you already sat down,"

Camila gave her an odd look. "Why are you in such a bad mood this morning? I thought we ended the weekend on a good note."

"Family stuff," Lauren responded vaguely. "It's nothing to do with you. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped on you like that."

"Could you apologize again? I want to get it on camera this time."

"Don't be an ass," she huffed and turned her attention back to her notebook.

"You didn't respond to my texts last night,"

The raven-haired woman bounced her leg nervously. She wasn't avoiding Camila, per se. She just needed time to think about her father and what the hell she was going to do with all the money she had now.

Would she even be able to use it? Or should she plan for somebody from the IRS to kick down her front door and kidnap her? In a single weekend, her entire life did a whole three-sixty and she wasn't sure how to cope with it.

On top of that, Camila was just the kind of person to stumble into your life and make it ten times more confusing. Which is the last thing she needed at the moment.

"I went to bed early, sorry."

Almost instantaneously, she felt a hand on her thigh—stopping her from bouncing anymore.

"I can do the talking when he calls us up if you want?" Camila offered.

A small wave of butterflies washed over the raven-haired woman at Camila's concern. "I'm okay. Seriously, don't worry about me."

"You make it kind of hard not to,"

"No, I don't,"

"Remember when you sprained your wrist in gym class because you wanted to get into a catfight with Selena Gomez over a ball?"

"Should've seen that bitch's face when I was done with her," Lauren said under her breath.

"My point still stands. It's hard not to worry about you."

"You and your stupid big heart," her lips curved into a half smile.

Instead of moving her hand away, Camila kept it on Lauren's leg, tracing small patterns with her thumb as other kids filed into the lecture hall.

"I'm pretty sure friends don't touch other friends' thighs like this,"

"Stop overreacting. I'm being a good friend by providing you with some comfort."

"Yeah, you were also being a good friend when you thought giving me a huge ass hickey was funny." Lauren pulled down her turtleneck slightly to reveal it.

Camila moved her hand from Lauren's thigh for a second to lightly press her thumb against the reddened mark before returning it to its original place. "I think my handiwork looks nice,"

"Fuck you,"

"What are you doing after class?" Camila suddenly asked.

Lauren stopped writing, her hand going completely still. "Uh... Maybe watch some Netflix and get started on my weekly readings,"

"Any chance I can convince you to come over again?"

"I'd love to, but—"

"Great. I know this great Italian place that has the best gnocchi nearby. You still like Italian, right?"