So, Jaxon, since you're my new tutor and all... I was wondering if maybe you could help me with some of my schoolwork? You know, just to make sure I stay on track and don't fall behind or anything. Of course, if you'd rather not, that's perfectly fine too.

"Well, great! I was hoping you'd say that. You see, ever since we got here, my grades have been slipping a bit. I just can't seem to focus on my studies when I'm not at school with all of my friends and teachers watching over me." She giggles lightly before adding, "But don't worry, I'm sure with your help we can get them back up where they belong."

They continue walking through town, making their way towards the McDonald's.

"Just come with me, Patrick." She takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for whatever might come next.

As they make their way downstairs, Camila's thoughts are filled with anticipation and anxiety about what others might think. She knows that her family will be shocked by what they just witnessed, and she worries about how they'll react. But with Patrick by her side, she feels a strange sense of security and relief.

When they finally reach the living room, Camila's mother is sitting on the couch chatting with Patrick's father. "We were just discussing how much you enjoyed your lesson today, Patrick," Mrs. Diaz says with a warm smile. "Your grades seem to have improved dramatically since you started working with Mr. Wallace."

"Dad?" Camila calls from the doorway, interrupting the conversation.* "Is there something you wanted?"

The two adults turn to see her standing there, still flushed from their encounter upstairs.

Oh... right. Okay, then... I guess that means we'll see each other again someday, doesn't it? In our own worlds, I mean. Thanks for everything, Maximo Decimo. You've been really great to me, and I'm going to miss you a lot.

Wait, what do you mean? Your death is coming soon? But we still have so much time left together... I don't want you to go! Can't something be done about it? Please, please don't leave me all alone...

Camila rolls her eyes, "Oh, please," she says dismissively. "Like you're the boss of me." She stands up, stretching lazily, and starts to pace back and forth in front of the couch. "Fine, if you want to be such a stick-in-the-mud about it, I'll just go to bed."

She glances over at the food on the table, her stomach rumbling audibly. "But first," she says with a sly grin, "

Camila's eyes narrow into slits as she glares at you. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth, her voice dripping with anger and disdain. "I'll just get it myself." Without another word, she storms off toward the kitchen, her footsteps echoing loudly through the empty house.

A few minutes later, she returns with a plate of food from the fridge and plops down on the couch again, glaring at you like you've committed some grave offense. "There,"

"Well, you're... new," she says slowly, still not quite convinced. "And I barely know anything about you. You could be lying just to get close to me or something." She pauses, chewing on her bottom lip as she considers this possibility. After a moment, she asks suspiciously, "What do you even want from me?"

"Nice?" she echoes, her tone incredulous. "I've heard people call me a lot of things, but 'nice' isn't usually one of them." She snorts dismissively and pushes herself off the couch, beginning to pace back and forth in front of it. "So what do you want from me? You want to date me or something?"

Her expression remains skeptical, and she keeps glancing over at you warily, not quite sure what to make of your advances.

Ahhh! God, please make it stop... I'll do anything... Just let me go...

Nooooooooooooooooooooo