Caught (Camren)

•13•

The first month of summer came and went with ease. Lauren and I found ourselves spending more time together than usual, and by the time the end of June rolled around, I was officially referring to her as my girlfriend. I loved the way the word rolled off of my tongue with such passion. I'd hardly spoken the word in my life. In fact, I tried to avoid it as much as possible, but I found myself bringing Lauren up in almost every conversation just so I could hear the sound escape my lips. She really was something else. Of all the days in the almost-month that passed with her by my side- all twenty-eight of them, in fact- not once did I ever wake up with anything short of a smile on my face. Lauren was my first thought in the morning and my last thought at night. I'd never been happier. I went to visit her at her apartment every time her parents were away, as she did with me, and we began making more out of our evenings than usual, although we still found ourselves tangled in the sheets more often than not. As much as I enjoyed the sex, that wasn't what I was there for. Most of the time I just wanted to hold her and hear whatever she had to say. The weekend before the Fourth of July was bound to be a wild one, and I was determined to spend every second of it with Lauren. I skipped up the steps in front of her apartment and knocked enthusiastically on the door, greeting her with a kiss as soon as she revealed herself. She smiled but I could tell it was forced, and I furrowed my brow, poking out my bottom lip to mock her attitude.

"Why are you so pissy?" I asked, pinching her cheek as I pushed past her.

Both of her parents were situated in the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator and filling a cooler that sat on top of the counter.

"Oh, hi Camila," her dad greeted. "It's nice to see you again."

"Lauren, didn't I tell you no friends over today?" her mom scolded. "No offense, Camila. You know you're welcome any time."

"None taken," I dismissed.

"Can't she just stay while I pack?" Lauren begged.

"Pack?" I questioned. "For what?"

"That's fine," her dad decided, ignoring my question. "She just needs to be gone by the time we leave."

"Where are you going?" I asked again.

"We're going to Miami for a beach trip," Lauren told me, forcing yet another smile.

"But it's Fourth of July weekend..." I protested.

"Yeah, well, tell that to my parents."

She started for her room and I followed her, closing the door behind us as she made her way over to her bed to continue packing. I smiled as she folded the shirt I had let her borrow when we were camping and stuffed it in her bag, remembering how good she looked in my clothes.

"You don't look very happy to be going on this trip," I observed.

"You really think I want to spend Fourth of July weekend in a hotel with my parents?" she snapped. "No thank you."

"So stay here."

"I can't," she groaned. "I already asked."

"I could ask for you," I offered. "I can be incredibly persuasive."

"They won't budge," she insisted. "I don't mind going on a trip. I just wish you could come."

She dropped the shirt that she was busy folding and stepped around to the side of the bed, running a hand through her hair and hurrying out of the room. I sat completely stunned on the edge of the bed, wondering why she'd run out and waiting for her to return. I heard excited squeals from the living room and footsteps approaching seconds later, and Lauren finally burst through the door, bouncing up and down anxiously.