Camila smiles, remembering how hard it was to wake Valeria up when she was staying at her house. She’d always ask for more time, and Camila would always let her have it, even if Valeria woke up in a panic minutes later, running around the house. The memory sparks a warm feeling in Camila. She can almost hear Valeria’s sleepymumbles and the frantic rustling of clothes as she scrambled to get ready.
“Suit yourself,” Alejandra says, before the car door swings open.
Clara turns to them and shakes her head. “You staying?” she asks, and Camila nods.
When Alejandra and Clara are out of sight, Camila turns back to her iPad and continues sketching.
Not a minute later, Valeria shoots up with a pout. “I can’t go back to sleep.”
Camila tucks her stylus back into its case and snaps her iPad case shut. “Let’s go set up, then. Maybe you can take a nap in your tent.”
Valeria nods.
They both spill out of the car, shoulders brushing as they grab their bags and tents and head toward where everyone else is setting up.
The campsite is gorgeous, and the lake’s big enough to feel endless, wrapped in trees that keep the whole place cool and green. The water barely ripples. It just sits there, calm as can be.
“Look who finally decided to join us,” Clara says as the other three quieten the moment they spot Valeria and Camila.
“Hey,” Alejandra says brightly, like they weren’t in the same car for the last hour and a half.
Lily walks up to Valeria, hugs her, and moves to hug Camila. “Thank you both for coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Valeria says, squeezing Lily’s arm.
It almost makes Camila feel silly that when Valeria hugged her this morning, she’d lost her breath. They’re all clearly huggers, except for Ella, who greets Valeria and Camila with a wave.
They all settle into picking the perfect flat spot for their tents. Clara flips open the cooler and hands each of them a drink. They decide to sleep in a square, all four tents facing each other, which is fine with Camila. She’s never been in a tent by herself, and that’s making her a bit nervous.
They each start assembling their poles, all of them flinching and ducking as Lily’s and Isabella’s get so long, they whistle past their heads.
Camila finishes first. She used to go camping so much with her ex that building a tent is almost second nature.
“How?” Valeria asks, out of breath, as the same stubborn pole she’s been trying to assemble for the past five minutes falls apart.
“Do you need help?”
Valeria looks up at Camila, exasperation clear on her face, then nods emphatically. “Yes, please.”
Camila makes easy work of setting up Valeria’s tent, getting it up in a couple of minutes.
Valeria blinks at it, then at Camila. “I’m impressed. That would have taken me at least another hour.”
Camila smiles, a little shy but pleased.
The others notice that Camila and Valeria are done almost immediately and quickly ask Camila for help. Camila goes from tent to tent, and in a few minutes, they’re all up, and everyone starts setting up their cots and bringing their bags inside.
When they’re all done, they start setting up the table for the food and one with a bunch of games. With everything she brought set out, Camila crawls back into her tent, changing into a white ribbed tank and a pair of black board shorts. She doesn’t know why she thought her usual baggypants would be suitable for camping in the middle of August.
A few minutes later, Valeria calls for her.
Camila crawls to the zipper; its metallic tang fills the air. When the material folds open, Camila comes face-to-face with Valeria’s thigh. A wave of nervous heat washes over her, and she struggles to swallow, her mouth suddenly dry as Camila realizes Valeria has changed into a red bikini and a white cover-up skirt, the fabric so thin that the faint outline of her bikini bottoms peeks through when she shifts her weight.
Camila’s never struggled to be perfectly respectable when it comes to other people’s bodies, but she’s finding keeping her eyes on Valeria’s face more difficult than she ever thought possible.
“Ready to go?” Valeria asks as she kneels; the barely there fabric of her skirt parts, revealing more of Valeria’s upper thigh, and Camila forgets how breathing works. Her fingers, usually steady, tremble; her palms sweat, and a tingling sensation erupts in her stomach.
“Go?” Camila asks, her hands clasped together. The only word that comes to her at the moment.
