Onesmartcookie78
Summary: "Jamais Vu": an expression often defined as being the opposite of deja vu; that is to say, the feeling of experiencing a situation for the first time, despite logically knowing you've been through it before.
Enter Camille Villeneuve, who thought she was normal and for most of her life, she was. Well, other than her childhood best friend's dad suddenly marrying her mom. That was pretty weird. And then she turned eighteen and suddenly things are a lot stranger than she ever could have dreamed.
Disclaimer: I don't own Life Is Strange. I only own my Original Characters!
Nathan is waiting for her with Teresa at the airport, and even though she has never doubted his intention to come, she maybe just might've doubted whether or not he actually would. He is, she thinks with a healthy dose of sympathy, the same boy—no, man, she corrects as she looks at him now—who stopped talking to her in the first place. She wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't show; if his mood was too low, if the thought was too daunting, if he wasn't ready.
So, all things considered, it's not her fault that she abandons her carry-on and checked luggage (which is quickly snapped up by a smirking Teresa) and launches herself into Nathan's arms. He expects it enough to catch her, but not enough to brace himself for impact, so when she glomps him with the speed of a freight train, she sends them spinning like a top.
Nathan is tall and thin and pale, but he's strong enough to hold her, and she can't help but laugh.
"Jesus, Cam," he mutters, pushing her away after he's regained his equilibrium. She half-expects a comment about him contacting his lawyer (which, she guesses, is probably now her mom) to sue her—all in jest, of course. Instead, he tosses an arm around her shoulders and drawls directly in her ear, "Can't wait until we're alone, huh?"
Camille makes a show of half-heartedly attempting to remove his arm, but only ends up maneuvering herself closer to him. It's definitely not intentional, even if her ears are scarlet. "Yeah, I can't wait to go home with you," she purrs in reply, arching a brow at him. If this is the game he wants to play, then she'll oblige.
He opens his mouth to say something in response, but she never gets to hear it, because Teresa makes her presence known by clearing her throat. "Camille, you can't just leave your things like that," she scolds lightly. Her teasing is ruined when she unceremoniously passes Camille's things to Nathan and folds Camille into a hug.
"I missed you," Camille mumbles into her shoulder.
"Me too, Cam," Teresa replies, pulling away to smooth down her hair with maternal affection. Teresa is an older woman with graying hair and a kind smile, and it hurts Camille to know that she doesn't get to see her own children very often. Though, rather selfishly, she thinks that Teresa is a far better mother than Marie and is glad that Teresa's separation from her own daughters has resulted in her treating Camille like one of them.
Hopefully now that Camille will be home to take care of Gloria, Teresa will be able to take more vacation time. It helps that Camille had been informed that her mother had sold their old home to move into the Prescott Estate; at least now, Teresa would have the Prescott family's staff to cover for her.
"How are Gloria and mother?" Camille asks, taking her carry-on from Nathan and winding an arm through Teresa's.
Nathan grumbles, but she knows it's mostly for show.
"Gloria is very well-behaved," Teresa says with a smile, "and so is your mother."
Camille laughs a little at that. "Oh, I'm sure. How's the wedding planning?"
Teresa shrugs. "With it being only a month away now, things are a little more hectic. I'm sure Nathan can speak more to that than I can." As the three of them approach the doors, Teresa reaches for both of Camille's suitcases. "Now, you two sit in the back and catch up while I take care of these bags, okay?"
Camille gives her one last hug and nods to her mother's driver—a man with sunglasses on despite the cloudy afternoon sky—then climbs into the car and slides all the way over. She turns to Nathan as he settles in beside her. "Whaddya say, Nate? You ready to tear up the town again?"
He runs a hand through sandy hair that's been gelled into submission. He looks fine like this, but she misses the natural waves more than she thought she would. His eyes, though, have never changed. They're startlingly blue, the only color on his pale face, and she loves them. "You know it, gorgeous," he replies, winking.
She can't stop blushing around him, but really she blames hormones and the fact that he's been smacked in the face with a puberty stick since she'd seen him last; it isn't like he's ever been unattractive, but his face has matured some, he's grown a few inches, his voice is a little deeper, and—and she's been looking at him too long. And, based on the way his brows lift as a smirk creeps over his lips, he's noticed.
"Sorry," she mumbles, but he gives her a slow once-over of his own and seems significantly less repentant in turn.
"Didn't call you 'gorgeous' for nothing," he says with a wink.
She rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say, Nate."
Teresa climbs in the passenger seat, and the driver pulls away from the curb. Camille can't help but yawn as the time difference starts to catch up with her; right around now, she'd be going to bed. Now that she doesn't have the anticipation that comes from not knowing if Nathan will actually show up, she's exhausted.
Nathan slings his arm back over her shoulder and pulls her into the middle seat instead, allowing her a brief moment to put on her seatbelt before he holds her closer.
"Glad you came," she tells him, as she settles in for the car ride from Portland to Arcadia Bay. "Missed you."
He rests his chin on top of her head and she's just beginning to succumb to oblivion when she hears his quiet, "Missed you too."
She wakes up when Nathan shakes her and she buries her head further into his chest in resistance.
He chuckles. "C'mon. Up and at 'em, bitch, we're going to dinner."
"Be my date to the wedding?" she asks sleepily, still refusing to budge.
She feels the way his breathing pauses in response. "Does that mean I get to take you dress shopping?" he whispers in her ear.
She jabs him in the side.
"C'mon, I didn't even mention going into the dressing room with you."
"Gross, Nate!" She can't resist adding, "Plus, we're going to be siblings soon."
"Step-siblings," he stresses so immediately and emphatically that she finds herself momentarily surprised. Why is he—and then his tense shoulders drop. "Not related," he says in a tone of finality, blue eyes catching hers. There's something imploring swimming in their depths, something that begs her to resist this new development with him and see where it takes them, but it fades quickly back to his easy sarcasm. "After all, why would I ever want to be related to you?"
It stings a little more than she thinks he meant it to. Isn't that what they've been for so long now? Brother and sister in all but name? But she bites her tongue, refuses to let it hurt. "Are you kidding? Kristine can't wait to be my new sister!"
Nathan's perpetual scowl deepens at the mention of his older sister, so unafraid of his father, so ready to leave behind the Prescott legacy, this little bubble of privilege based on a name that means nothing outside of Arcadia Bay.
Camille loves her.
Nathan loves her too, but not without a healthy dose of resentment, because she'll always be able to do what he can't—
"I swear, on the same day that I got the wedding invite, Kris sent me an invite to be her sister," Camille continues, keeping her voice light, teasing.
He lets out a breath of a laugh, nudges her. "Alright, alright," he acquiesces, though she's not sure what to, not anymore. She's lost the thread of the conversation, watched it slip through her fingers like silk. He continues anyway, undoing her seatbelt for her. "Two Whales. Now. I'm hungry."
Live his life for himself, on his own terms.