(i think) there's a flaw in my code | camren

day 2

She feels like she's floating.

Lauren puts the empty glass down in front of her. She looks at their conjoint hands and, for a moment, nothing happens. Neither of them moves, neither says a word. And then Lauren clears her throat and pulls away.

Camila isn't even sure Lauren really knows what she just did.

"Do you have more water?" Lauren asks.

Camila nods. She tries to say words but her tongue is paralyzed, her vocal cords quiet. It's probably a good thing. If she'd say anything right now, her voice would probably be high and pitched and awkward.

She fills up the glass two more times, until Lauren has had enough. She doesn't grab her hand anymore, and she definitely doesn't look up to meet her eyes. Camila wonders if she'll remember any of it in the morning.

When Lauren yawns, Camila gets pulled back into reality. It's 4:30 AM. They really need to sleep.

"Let's get you to bed," Camila says, not giving Lauren a choice. Luckily she seems to agree.

Getting Lauren upstairs proves to be easier than she anticipated. Somehow Lauren seems to know exactly where to put her feet, and even though she sways with every step she takes, they make it safely to Lauren's bedroom.

Lauren's wearing a black dress, and at first Camila thinks she'll be able to get it off herself. But when Lauren lays down on her bed and closes her eyes without changing into pajamas or taking off her makeup, she realizes it's not going to happen unless she does something about it.

Turning off her feelings as much as possible, she pokes Lauren's ribs. "Don't go to sleep yet, you have to take off your dress and makeup first."

When Lauren lifts her arms, Camila sighs. It feels wrong when she starts tugging at the bottom of Lauren's dress to take it off her, even though there's nothing sexual about it. She's heard enough stories about guys taking advantage of girls who were intoxicated to feel creepy, but Lauren is in no state to do it herself and Camila's just helping.

After a minute and lots of accidental hand brushes later, Lauren's in her bra and panties.

"Take off your bra while I grab your PJs," Camila commands, knowing it's the only way to get Lauren to do something right now. She lifts the covers of Lauren's bed and grabs the first piece of clothing she sees—a navy blue oversized shirt.

Unfortunately Lauren's apparently very skilled at the whole take-your-bra-off-while-drunk thing, because when Camila looks up the first thing she sees is Lauren's naked back. She swallows and reaches over the bed to hand Lauren the shirt.

"Put this on," she says, slightly agitated. This shouldn't even be happening. Lauren's not supposed to be drunk and Camila's not supposed to be taking care of her. The whole point of the contest is to get to know each other and befriend each other and—just not this.

Lauren puts on her shirt without a word, and then turns around to look at Camila. The look in her eyes asks, "Anything else?" in a way that makes Camila's heart clench. Lauren looks like a lost puppy.

Camila wants to say, "You need to take off your makeup," but it comes out as, "Are you okay?"

"I—" Lauren starts, but even in her drunken state the question causes her to throws up walls. "I'm tired."

"Just lay down, I'll get a wash cloth for your face." Camila's voice is quiet, not as stern anymore. As much as she wants to be mad and stay mad she just can't. Lauren's obviously not a bad person, even if she does try to make it look like she is. And it saddens her, because whatever Lauren did, she doesn't deserve this. She's only nineteen. She should be hanging out with friends and traveling the world and falling in love. Her life should be good. It should be her own. Not whatever this is.