Buzzed Hearts

78: bethesda terrace

"FUCK!"

"I agree with Jer," Roma says, shivering into her coat. She has her hands in Elle's pockets, as they huddle together.

"Yeah, it's fucking cold. My golden Cali body isn't fit for here," Jeremy says.

"Why are we even here?" Elle mutters.

"C'mon guys, it's a beautiful view," Camila says. "Let's take a few pictures."

Laurent is staring around, staring at Bethesda Fountain from the terrace. He has a pensive look in the face as he ignores Jeremy's pestering ("Let's warm up together.").

It's been a few days and they still haven't spoken to each other—at least not properly. They've muttered a few passing words, and Laurent is as moody as ever these days. Camila hasn't told anyone about it and judging by his casual, carefree posture around their friends, Laurent hasn't either.

Passing her phone to a nearby stranger, she makes them pose at the railing of Bethesda Terrace, the wonderful view behind them. It's a place Camila fell in love with the first time walking through Central Park. She's still not familiar with the whole place, but it definitely gets her musical mood on. But recently, it hasn't served as much inspiration.

"Can you believe it?" Elle asks as she scrolls through the photos, zooming in on all of their faces. "Christmas is in two days. Can't wait to give all of you some steaming coal. Except for you, of course," she says, giving Roma a kiss to the cheek.

Jeremy fake-gags into his scarf. "If you're this nice to each other, it must mean you're nasty as hell in the bedroom."

A gasp escapes Roma as Elle bursts out laughing, rich and deep.

"You are seriously, seriously depraved." Laurent pats him on the back.

Swallowing the thick lump in her throat, Camila forces out a laugh, and ushers them to a café, eager to escape the cold. Though it's the dry sort of chill, it still manages to settle deep into her bones.

Every time she looks at Laurent, who's never looking back, her heart squeezes just a little bit more. There's hate boiling in her stomach but wistfulness in her chest. It's a disturbing feeling she packs deep down into her psyche. It's just not worth it.

"Yo, can we get lunch?" Jeremy asks. "Like, a big one."

"We just had brunch. You drank two screwdrivers." Elle rolls her eyes.

"So?"

Camila jumps in, "Let's do it. I'm getting hungry from the cold too."

"Why are you so fucking agreeable these days? Man, you must've really missed us, haven't you?" Jeremy says, throwing an arm around her neck.

Sometimes, Camila doesn't know if they're all pretending just to get along for this visit, one that everyone has sacrificed something to come for. Elle almost always reads her—she's never been a good actor. Jeremy can be oblivious but he picks up on the smallest details. And Roma? Roma senses the storm even before it comes. So it strikes Camila weird that none of them as addressed anything yet, even when she feels this off-balance.

The cute waiter, Julien, has been texting her but lately, Camila hasn't been in that reciprocating mood. All she does back in her dorm is try to compose, practice monotonously, and stare into the wall.

Even so, she needs this trip to be a memorable one for all her friends. Smiling, she sends them the group picture and leads them to the next destination.

"Not Staten Island. It's haunted all of my fever dreams since I was six," Elle requests, when Camila asks them what they have in mind.