you make me sick (for being so perfect)

Thirty Four.

Trigger warning for ableism/ableist slurs.

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Lauren taps her fingers against her pants as she walks through the corridors, one hand stimming and the other hand on her backpack's straps. She makes her way to the art classroom as usual, a little earlier than she normally is because she'd had a free period, but she figures that's just more time to work on her drawings.

She's a little confused when she opens the classroom door and things are different. Her teacher smiles at her in greeting as usual, but Lauren is incredibly confused when she sees Camila sat at their usual lunchtime table, with some other girl in Lauren's seat.

"Camz?" Lauren rocks herself on her heels as she gets her girlfriend's attention. "You're here early."

"Oh, yeah, Ariana and I were let out of class early. She's new and I said she could sit with us at lunch." Camila explains, nudging Ariana. "Ariana, this is Lauren. She's one of the girls I was telling you about."

Ariana smiles at her, but Lauren avoids her gaze, because she doesn't like eye contact, especially with people she doesn't know. "Hi there. Like Camila said, I'm Ariana."

Lauren frowns. "You're in my spot."

"Lauren," Camila sends her an odd look and pats the free seat next to her, the one that Dinah usually occupies. "It doesn't matter. Just come and sit here."

Lauren bites down on her bottom lip and shakes her head. "No, because that's Dinah's seat. I want to sit in my spot, I always sit there, it's my space during art class and I sit there during lunchtimes and it's part of my routine."

"Calm down, Lo," Camila stands up and guides her into her seat instead. "You can sit in my spot and I'll steal Dinah's seat. She won't care."

"But it's my spot, I want to sit in my spot," Lauren says, rocking backwards and forwards on the chair that Camila had forced her into. She flaps her hands in front of her in an attempt to communicate her frustration. "I want my spot, let me sit in my seat."

"Mila, honestly, it's fine," Ariana stands up and Lauren practically dives into her usual spot, missing the strange look Ariana shoots her. She hears the other girl murmur under her breath, "what's wrong with her?" and Lauren tries to ignore it, because she doesn't know Ariana and she doesn't care what she thinks, because she doesn't want to be friends.

Camila sits down with a sigh and shifts closer to Lauren, "Babe, you could've been more accommodating. It's just a seat."

Lauren frowns, because Camila is supposed to understand her and she doesn't know why her girlfriend is acting so strangely. "But it's my seat. I sit here all the time, every class and lunchtime."

Camila sighs again and turns back to Ariana. "So, Ari, tell me about yourself."

Lauren tunes out as Ariana speaks, tapping against the table. She decides to get her sketchbook out and set to work on a new piece, a little confused when the other girls don't show up after the lunch bell rings, because usually they're all there quite quickly. But she doesn't question it, because she's too busy sketching the outline of Camila's hand, which is rested on the desk a few inches away from her.

She's just about to start adding detail when she hears a gasp, and once she's turned back to her sketchbook after picking out a thicker pencil, she realises why.

Ariana had knocked her coffee all over Lauren's sketchbook.

Lauren is frozen for a moment, blinking down at her now ruined prized possession in shock, the realisation that all of her hard work is gone taking a long time to sink in. Once it hits her, Lauren goes into hysterics, sobbing and rocking backwards and forwards on her chair.