Page 42 of Catching Camila

“You really want to come back here and talk to him, don’t you?” Camila asked.

He didn’t answer.

Jealousy stole over her. She didn’t trust that smug idiot one bit. She looked up at John. He started towards the gravel path, then stopped and doubled back for her as if she were an afterthought. She clenched her fists, but forced a smile when he looked at her.

“I’ll walk you home,” John said, sounding far away.

Camila nodded. They were about a half mile from her trailer. The gravel on the shoulder crunched under her flip-flops. She stepped over a shard of brown glass and tried to think. What did Nomad say? Something was hunting the people of this town? Did that mean it was an animal and not a human? Well, that made sense, but she wasn’t willing to believe a word that came out of that guy’s mouth. From the look on John's face, he was willing to believe every word.

Whether Nomad was crazy or not, it would get very dark, very fast. Suddenly the fear she had suppressed all day reared its head. She wanted away from here. Now.

He’ll never know what he is or where he came from.Those were Nomad’s words. Camila let her eyes slip toward John shuffling quietly beside her, his head down, his mouth quirked to the side, his hands stuffed in his pockets. From here she could see his fists were clenched like he was holding onto something.

He’s holding onto himself. He's holding on because a storm is coming, and he’ll be swept up with it.

Wasn’t she just projecting? Wasn’t that how she felt all the time?

They reached her trailer park much sooner than she’d expected. The homes were eerily quiet. Each squat little breadbox of a house had the door shut, the windows closed on such a warm July night. Was Mama still sleeping? Camila would find out soon enough.

She faced John, who stood stoop-shouldered, his face dark. He lifted a smile when their eyes met, but the worry still hung on his face.

Camila gnawed on her lip. “So…” She blew out a breath. “You gonna go back?”

John shrugged his big shoulders. His eyes tracked back toward the water tower. She could just see the rounded top beyond the tree line.

“You are, huh?” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

John scratched a hand behind his neck. “Yeah.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Camila shrugged. “You’re a big boy. I can’t tell you what to do.”

John shook his head. “I need to know.”

“He seems like he may be a few sandwiches short of a full picnic, John. Do you really think you can trust that guy?”

John shrugged. “I dunno, but I gotta see. What if he knows about me? What if he knows what I am?” He pressed a hand to his chest.

She locked eyes with him, taking a step forward until she was an arm's length away. “What you are, John, is a nice guy who deserves more than he was handed. You don’t need that guy,” she thumbed back to the direction of the water tower, “to tell you that.”

John took a step back and swallowed hard. “Camila, what you don’t understand—”

“No, I understand. You want to know. You think some part of you is waiting under that water tower, but I don’t trust that guy.” She pressed a finger into his chest. Then she lifted her eyes to his face. “He didn’t even call you by the right name. There’s something not right about him. I can feel it.”

John shook his head slowly back and forth. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Camila!” a voice yelled from down the street.

Standing in the road with no shoes, her skirt askew and her hair curling in every direction, Mama waved to her. Somehow Camila’s heart rose and sank at the same time: Mama was safe; Mama was manic.

Camila waved back and mimed just a minute. She turned back to John. “I gotta go.” She couldn’t look at him. He shifted beside her, feet scuffing the pavement. Would he change his mind?

“Okay,” he whispered.

She looked at him one more time. He had to go back to Nomad or he'd combust. Camila nodded. “See you tomorrow, maybe?”

A flicker of a smile lit up his face. “I’ll be waiting when you get off.”

“Please be careful.” She looked up at him. She wanted so much more: to throw her arms around him, smell his scent, kiss his mouth. Instead, she turned walked toward her mother without looking back. When she reached her front door, John was gone.

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