Fish Eyes

22

Lawrence: I need my camera back Lia.

Dalia paused her show to text the boy back. She technically had dibs on whatever she wanted in the photography suite, as it was her family's business.

But I digress.

Lawrence had been nagging her about that camera for some weeks at that point. She would have given it back, but something in her just reveled in owning something he wanted so dearly. She had finished what she wanted to do with it days prior.

It was becoming increasingly clear that Dalia had no actual control over how life moved-- all she could do was move with the motions and be open to them. Historically, she struggled with change. She struggled with allowing herself to be a feather.

She was getting lighter and lighter every day.

She ignored the text and flipped her phone face down on her bed. Lawrence would not be getting a response.

It was on her dresser, just like the other one had been over a year prior. Time didn't just fly; it warped. There was no way she'd met Lawrence a year ago. Or Dean.

Her hair was out, airdrying. It was Sunday, and according to Wendy, that was short for Self-Care Sunday. They'd started their tradition in honor of Issa and Molly on Insecure.

"I'm worried about Issa and Molly," Dalia said out loud to herself.

Her phone started ringing then. "I need to get some new tactics. He's catching on."

Dalia picked up her phone and accepted his FaceTime call with a fart noise. "What, 12?"

"Stop playing with me, Dalia," he said to her. "I got work tomorrow. It's not the time for your cute antics and shit."

She put her phone against the pillow in front of her so that she could show him her sopping wet hair. "I was in the shower," she lied.

"I need my camera. I have a shoot tomorrow."

"Is it another model chick you're going to bag?" she smirked into the camera.

"Haha. This phone call is lasting too long."

"Well, I don't know what you want to me to do. I don't drive, my parents are not home, and there's no way I'm getting on the bus on a Sunday. It's simply not happening."

Lawrence grabbed his chin with his hand and pondered that.  "You said your parents aren't home?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm on my way," he said before he hung up the phone. 

"Oka-," she began to say. He hung up before she could get it out.

She didn't think much of it, so she hit play on her show. Something in her wanted to get up and get pretty for him, but she couldn't find the worth in that. It woudn't change anything.

Life was going according to its regularly scheduled programming until shew as hit withi a sudden wave of deja vu. The memory on the camera was full. 

Lawrence would not have the privilege of seeing her shit without her consent again.

"Oh shit. Shit," was all that she could articulate as she hopped out of her bed.

She looked at the other side of her queen with frantic eyes and snatched up her MacBook. She had an idea of where Lawrence lived, and it wasn't that far.

The computer was there, but it was dead. That was cool. She plugged it in and stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for it to come alive. It made that boujie noise that MacBooks made, and then another slap of reality hit her in the jaw.