Elle's Pov
I walk into the apartment exhausted, my mind stuck on the call with Damian. My mother is already in the living room, firing jabs like it's a competitive sport. I don't respond. I just keep walking. My shoulders ache and my head is pounding, the last thing I want is an argument I know I'll lose.
In my room, I head straight for the closet. It hits me then: this dinner is a lifeline. Anything is better than being trapped here with my mother tonight. My fingers tremble as I flip through hangers. Cool silk. Normal fabric. A distraction. I pull a dress out, hold it against me, then toss it aside. I can't focus. My hands keep drifting to my chest, trying to steady a heartbeat that won't behave.
The front door opens. Seconds later, my mother's voice explodes through the hallway.
"My sunshine is home!" she calls out, the sound of a hug following. "Honestly, Camila, I swear the hospital mixed up my babies. You should've been mine, not the stubborn one."
She jerks her chin toward my bedroom door without looking. I close my eyes. She meant it. She always means it.
Camila slips into my room a moment later, closing the door softly.
"What is going on?"
I let out a long breath and toss a dress onto my bed. "Damian asked me to dinner. Out of nowhere. And he sounded… weird. I don't know. But I said yes because honestly..." I gesture helplessly toward the living room, "...I cannot sit here with my her tonight."
Cam nods. "Fair. Where is he taking you?"
I blink. Then blink again. "I… didn't ask."
"Elle," Camila says, her mouth falling open. "Did your brain stay back at the office?"
"What is wrong with me today?" I mutter, pressing my palms to my forehead.
"Call him. Call him right now before he... oh God! Before he ends up..."
My phone vibrates on the bed. Both of us jump.
It's Damian.
I swallow and answer. "Hey, don't tell me you're calling to cancel."
"Not cancelling," he says "Are you ready?"
"I just got home. I need to shower."
"I'll pick you up."
My heart drops. "No! No, it's fine. Really. I'll find my way."
"I'm already on your street." Not a question.
My pulse spikes. Already?
"It's not a bother, Elle."
Panic makes me stupid. "Oh! Um-Camila's boyfriend is here. So it'd be awkward if you come up."
A heavy, suspicious pause follows.
"Alright," he says finally. "I'll wait outside."
I hang up and bolt for the living room.
"Mom," I whisper-shout, my hands clasped. "Please. Do not come near the door. Do not speak to Damian. Do not breathe toward the hallway. I'm begging you."
She doesn't even look away from the TV. "I can't promise anything."
"Mom, I'm serious." I'm practically kneeling beside the couch now. My voice shakes, I hate it. "Please."
She finally glances at me, her eyes slow and amused. "I could even be invisible, firefly. If he tries to come up? Poof. Gone." She wiggles her fingers.
My relief lasts three seconds.
"But," she adds, turning back to the screen, "everything has a price. Follow me home this weekend. That's all."
"What? No. Absolutely not."
She ignores me and calls out, "Camila, did you see this part? The episode where the brother sleeps with Carla?"
Cam pokes her head out. "Yes? You made me watch the whole episode last weekend."
I stare at them.
Last weekend? They've been hanging out?
How? When? My brain spins so hard I nearly forget the crisis at hand.
"Fine," I snap. "Fine. I'll go. Happy?"
She smiles sweetly. "Very."
I storm back into my room, furious and defeated. Camila is standing by the doorway, her face pale, eyes wide and shaky.
"Elle…" She swallows hard. "Damian just called me."
"What did he say?"
"He asked if he could come up. To say hi. And to check if my 'boyfriend' minded." She winces, her voice trembling. "And I panicked, Elle. I really, really panicked."
"Oh no. Cam…"
"I said yes."
I stare at her, dead silent, while my entire soul leaves my body.
Damian is coming up. My mother is in the living room. And the 'boyfriend' doesn't exist.
I am officially, undeniably, catastrophically screwed.