Chris was taken aback by her flat and sudden response. “I’m leaving” rung through his head like an alarm clock he couldn’t shut off. Standing in the room for a small quiet moment, he tried to decide what he could say back, but maybe her mind was already made. With Camille, that’s how it was, when she made up her mind, it was made up.
"W-where are you going?" he asked for some reason afraid of the answer. This was possibly the resolution to the problem. Chris definitely didn’t want it because he still cared for his friend. Most of the reason was possibly because of her break up with Dave and since Chris had recently learned about that, he wanted to just help, which is why he ended the arguing. But now he feels as if he won’t get that chance.
Her feet’s movements came to a halt, all too quickly. The small clicks of her heels diminished in their echoes just as soon as they had began, as though the stuttered question at her back was a tether that snatched and kept her in place.
“Whea’ you thank I’m goin’?” She asked, spinning as the intensity of conflict rose in her again. Her breaths rang as the only source of sound between them for a moment, after the reverbs of her voice halted their ringing, “I’m takin’ ma ass home. HOME. So I ain’t gotta see HIM, he ain’t gotta see ME, I ain’t gotta see COURTNEY an’ BEAT HER ASS,an’ I ain’t gotta stay in dis DIRTY, MEAN ASS, COL’, SNOWIN’ EVERY-GODDAMN-SEASON PLACE! I’m takin’ ma swamp ass HOME, ALRIGHT?”