blue ➸ camren

seven

"Y'ready, Mila?" Normani knocked softly on the bedroom door. Camila tugged her beanie onto her head and padded over to the door, opening it slowly and smiling when she saw the taller girl on the other side.

"Ready," Camila nodded once. "Will Lauren be here when we get back?"

"She gets back from class in an hour," Normani pushed the door open wider and motioned for Camila to follow her. Camila had her weekly therapy appointment that day.

"I do not like going," Camila confessed as she followed Normani out to the car. The dark skinned girl raised an eyebrow, making sure Camila buckled her seatbelt before they pulled out onto the road.

"Why not?" Normani asked. Camila sighed and shook her head.

"I do not know her," Camila pulled her legs up to her chest and stared out the window. "She does not know me. Strangers are not friends."

"I get what you mean," Normani said honestly. "But she's a doctor, you've got to at least try to let her help you."

"Why do I need help?" Camila lifted her head and looked over at the older girl. She didn't understand why she needed to go.

"I'm not sure," Normani drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. "There's just some things you've got to work on, that's all. Everyone needs to work on some things. You just need a little extra help."

"But not everyone has to go and talk to a stranger," Camila sighed. This made her feel different. It made her feel stupid. Why was she the only person who needed help?

"That's a lie," Normani shrugged. "I have to go after class and get help from my teacher sometimes. It's practically the same thing. It's just I need help with dancing in heels, and you need help with your emotions. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Camila nodded slowly. What Normani was saying was starting to make sense. But she still couldn't let go of that fact that she felt different. Not the good kind of different, either. The kind of different that made people stare at you when you went out in public.

Once they reached the doctors office, Camila was led back into the small room. She sat down in the same red chair she had sat in multiple times before. There were a few different chairs in the room, but she chose the red one because it was the furthest away from the therapist's desk.

"How've things been at home, Camila?" the dark haired woman looked up from her desk. Camila hung her head down and played with her hands nervously.

"Good," she shrugged and tugged at the beanie on her head. Lauren had given it to her, she remembered. It was the girl's lucky beanie. As long as Camila was wearing it, she could do anything.

"What have you been up to since we last met?" the woman tapped her pencil against her desk. The noise made Camila's anxiety heighten.

"I went to class with Lolo," Camila remembered, feeling a small smile form on her face.

"Don't you mean Lauren?" the woman asked. Camila nodded.

"That is what I said," the smaller girl grew nervous. "Her name is Lolo. Only I can call her that. She is my Lolo."

"Oh," the therapist jotted something down. Camila didn't like her facial expressions. They worried her.

"I made a friend, too," Camila blurted out. She knew whenever the woman wrote something down that she had said something wrong. "Two of them."

"You did?" the woman looked up. "Tell me about them."

"They are in Lolo's class. There is a girl named Maia. And her boyfriend is named Toby. He makes things with clay," Camila looked down at her arm, where Maia had painted the flower. It had washed off in the shower, but there was still a slight shadow where the black paint had been.