Riptide (a camren fic)

Chapter 23: tiny, little, broken pieces

a/n: yes. it's real.

"Would you like a refreshment?"

The question pulls Camila away from the window. She releases the tight grip she's got on the armrest of the cushy leather seat. There's a small ache in her right hand from the remaining slint on her pinky finger. The nervous sweat on her palms have long dried since the start of her flight.

More like, the start of the entire trip, she thinks

"I'm okay." She offers the flight attendant the closest to a polite smile she can muster. The nervous sweat returns.

"You should have something."

Camila glances at the voice beside her. Beneath Ally's drowsiness, she can read the concern. Normani peeks around the headrest of the row ahead of them, eye-mask lifted and resting on her forehead. She knows her nerves can be felt tangibly by both of the girls. Nerves that hadn't exactly left since the moment Camila decided she was going to board the latest flight to Los Angeles.

"You want some pretzels?" Normani asks, holding out her own bag.

"I'm fine." At the mention of food, her stomach grumbles. Normani raises an eyebrow.

She shakes her head for good measure, that she knows is probably not the most convincing. Another grumble. Camila sighs resignedly, before taking the pretzels.

The sound of crunching does very little to soothe her lingering anxiety, but the gnawing ache in her stomach slowly eases.. She hadn't really realized how hungry she'd been. The early morning had been a rapid cloud of nerves and hasty packing, and even more nerves.

She must've forgotten to eat.

Camila chews away, peering over at Ally beside her. She's beginning to doze off in her seat. Normani most likely is as well. Recruiting Ally and Normani had been practically seamless. Convincing them was even easier than expected. In fact, it was almost as if they were anticipating the call. She wonders how extensive the Jauregui siblings' plotting must have been.

Still, a small wave of guilt builds as she takes in their exhaustion.

Camila drums her finger against the armrest of her seat. She fidgets against the leather, as if trying to suffocate beneath the expensive atmosphere.

She had never been on a plane before, much less first class.

Another wave of guilt.

At this rate, she'd probably be middle aged by the time she paid Ally back for all of the expenses. Ally had insisted. Normani wouldn't accept anything less. But it still didn't stop the rumble of negative thoughts from coming. Of her own inadequacy. Of her lack of independence. Of her complete disobedience.

This is crazy. Her parents - her mother especially - would kill her. This was insane. She had no plan. Nothing. Just anxiety and an address. Camila had been too much of a coward to actually call Lauren up. Not that she'd even want to speak to Camila. Let alone answer the phone.

And now she's dragged her friends into this? Hadn't she put them through enough?

Camila inhales deeply and exhales soundly.

They wouldn't be here if they didn't want to.

Your mom will understand.

It's not the end of the world to ask for help.

She focuses in on the deep breathing, settling her rattling heartbeat. She returns back to Normani's pretzels, soothed by the crunching of her chewing.