eighteen

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Lauren crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited by baggage claim. Her plane had just landed. She was exhausted. No, she was more than exhausted. She hadn't been able to get a wink of sleep, though. Her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Camila.

Second degree murder.

At first, Lauren had thought the idea was utterly ridiculous. But she knew she needed to do this. There were too many unanswered questions and maybe by taking a trip back into Camila's past she could figure out what was going on.

Eventually she caught sight of her bag, throwing it over her shoulder and jogging out the large glass doors. It was then that she realized she had no clue where the hell she was going.

Still, Lauren was ignoring her feelings about the whole situation. She had a one track mind. She needed to find out what had happened to Camila. She needed answers to these questions.

She hailed a cab, sliding into the backseat and giving the driver the address of her old house. If she remembered correctly, Camila had only lived a few streets over from her.

Her head rested against the window as they drove, giving her time to replay the entire events prior in her head. The sound of Camila screaming out her name wouldn't leave her mind, and Lauren hadn't realized how painful it would feel.

Those officers... they didn't know how to treat Camila. She was Camila. Truthfully, only Lauren truly knew how Camila thought, how her brain worked. She winced at the thought of Camila being alone with all those strangers.

Suddenly, a house caught her eye. She knew the owner. Sydney. One of Camila's former cheerleader friends. A rush decision pushed Lauren to stop the cab, thanking the man and handing him a wad of bills, not bothering to count. She waited for him to drive away before turning and facing the house.

Moments later, she found herself on the porch, knocking gently on the door. She bit her lip when she heard footsteps approaching, and the door opened slowly to reveal an older version of the girl she had once known in high school. In pajamas.

Shit. Lauren quickly checked the time, only to realize it was barley past 8 in the morning on a Saturday.

"Lauren?" the girl sounded confused.

"Uh, hi," Lauren took a deep breath. Why was she still intimidated? They were out of high school, popularity didn't exist.

"Lauren the lesbian?"

Oh god. Lauren clenched her fists and chose to ignore the comment. "Can we... talk? It's about Camila."

She saw the girl's face drop and grew concerned. Sydney placed the small dog in her arms on the ground and stepped aside, opening the door and allowing Lauren to come inside.

"M'sorry about the whole lesbian comment," Sydney laughed nervously. Lauren just shrugged it off, standing awkwardly in the foyer of the large house and looking around. Sydney's parents had always been filthy rich.

"We can go sit in the living room," the blonde motioned for Lauren to follow her down the hall, leading her into a large room lined with windows. It was so clean that Lauren was afraid to touch anything. She sat down on the edge of a black leather couch, running a hand through her hair nervously.

"Do you want water or something? We have lemonade, too, and tea, if you l-," Sydney started, but Lauren quickly interrupted.

"I'm fine, I just..." Lauren shook her head. Sydney sat down, nodding for her to go on. "What do you know about Camila?"

Lauren watched as Sydney's face underwent a series of different emotions before her lips curled into a slight frown.

"She was my friend," the blonde shrugged. Lauren knew she was trying to play dumb and immediately put an end to it.

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