Page 63 of Catching Camila

“It's a dump,” he said.

Camila laughed. “Only a little.”

He chuckled. “My mom won't even set foot. She brings a can of Lysol every time she brings my mail. Sprays it right at Mike.”

Camila let herself smile. “Your mom sounds like a trip.”

“She is.” He paused. “Sorry about your mom.”

There was that feeling again, like someone gripping her stomach. Squeezing. She nodded.

Travis jiggled his foot nervously. “Fer told me.”

Camila nodded again. Tears swelled back to the surface. She sniffed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She couldn't cry. Not in front of Travis.

“It'll be okay.” Slowly, gently, he lay his hand on top of hers.

Tears streaked down her face as her guard fell. “It's all my fault.” More tears. Sobs shook through her body. “All…my fault.”

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay.” Travis leaned over and put his arms around her.

Camila leaned in, pressed her face to his shoulder. She couldn't stop the flood. Travis rubbed her back and murmured condolences. She cried long and hard. When the tears finally stopped, she sat back, sniffing and wiping at her eyes.

“I'm sorry.” She looked up at his face. He had the strangest expression. As if he were deciding something.

Then he leaned in and kissed her.

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