you make me sick (for being so perfect)

Sixty Seven.

To Camila's complete surprise, she actually makes it through exam season. She has a few blips – one of them when she's studying with Lauren and gets super stressed, throwing all of the books and worksheets off the table in a fit of rage – but other than that, she's relatively okay.

(Probably because Lauren's always there to bring her back to earth.)

After their last final, Camila and Lauren spend their last week as high school seniors goofing off, and before they know it, graduation day has arrived and she's rolling her eyes as Lauren is refusing to wear her graduation cap.

"I don't like it," Lauren scowls as Camila pushes it onto her head, "It feels weird. So does this gown, why do we have to wear these, they're not made of nice material. Can't I just wear one of my sweaters?"

Camila laughs. "Laur, you're valedictorian. You can't show up in a sweater and jeans."

"Why not?" Lauren pouts. "I like my sweaters, they're nice and cuddly."

"Well... I'll make a compromise. Go upstairs, take off the t-shirt you have on under there and put a sweater on." Camila says. "You might get too hot, but you love wearing clothes that'll possibly give you heatstroke, so I'm guessing you'll be fine."

"No, I don't want to wear this at all, it's annoying," Lauren complains. "I just want to wear one of my sweaters. Why can't I?"

"Because this is like, tradition or something," Camila shrugs, "and you're valedictorian. You have to set a good example for everyone. Actually, have you- have you got your speech prepared? And how are you feeling about it? Nervous or are you okay?"

Lauren blinks at her. "You asked too many questions. Which one would you like me to answer first?"

Camila smiles and kisses Lauren's forehead. "Have you got your speech prepared?"

"Yes," Lauren nods, "It's- it's not super long, but... I think it's okay. My dad offered to proof read for me, but- but if I'm valedictorian, obviously I can proof read it myself, because I have a 5.0 GPA."

Camila tries hard not to laugh at what's basically her girlfriend's catchphrase. "Mhm. Anyway, how are you feeling about it?"

Lauren frowns. "About what?"

"Making your speech," Camila clarifies, squeezing Lauren's hand, "public speaking."

"Oh," Lauren shrugs and looks down at her feet, "I mean... I'm- I'm not really scared about it, but I'm still nervous. Because- because obviously the school think I'm capable of making it or- or they wouldn't have picked me."

"True," Camila nods, "but are you sure you're going to be alright? I want to be on guard in case you need me."

"I think I'll be fine. I- I might stutter, but... but that's okay," Lauren replies, "I managed to do that speaking presentation in Spanish, and that wasn't too bad. We still got an A, even though I stuttered. So... I'll be alright. I believe in myself."

"I believe in you, too," Camila promises her, "I think it'll be a great speech. Do I have any mentions in it? Because, I mean, I want everyone to know how amazing I am."

Lauren stares at her. "Are you joking?"

"Yes, Laur," Camila laughs, "I'm joking. I'm not that egotistical. I am a pretty good girlfriend, though. I'll give myself that."

"No, I think you're amazing! It was just- your tone was weird." Lauren explains herself, and Camila's stomach flips at her girlfriend's words. "That's why I thought you were making a joke. I do mention you, though."