They envy me! Girls want to be me and guys want to be with me. I'm talked about because I'm popular and they're jealous, not because I'm an easy bully target. That's what I want. "But do you want to be you, the real you, more?"

I whisper the last question to myself, glancing from the mirror to Lauren's bedroom window. She seems to know who I am, but do I even know who I am anymore? My eyes flick to my bookshelf.

Yeah, that's who I am.

I take in another breath of her jacket, the early morning swirling around me. The way her hands felt against my skin. The sweet taste of her tongue gliding with mine. The heat in my pelvis as she pressed herself against it. It was better than before when all we did was kiss a few times. This was something much deeper. Like she's been struggling with the same urges I have but been keeping herself at a distance because of what she said. She doesn't really know me anymore.

That's another thing I can't stop thinking about. Even when she jumped away, and told me to stop, she bore her soul to me. Opened up in a way no one else has. Told me exactly how she feels, and how I can fix it.

And I'm going to fix it.

Without removing her jacket-or anything else of her I'm wearing-I slide between my sheets, still feeling all in a flurry from the entire night. It totally didn't happen the way I thought. But instead of feeling guilty and sad, which I should totally feel considering the whole drunken stupor, I feel anxious-excited I have the chance to make it up to her.

Closing my eyes and grinning, I let my mind go to romantic places. At least, romantic for me and Lauren. Hogwarts, Middle Earth, Voyager, and I laugh as I think about the Millennium Falcon since we'll be in my car later. I still can't believe all these things remind her of what I was to her. That it wasn't an obsession, but something that helped her through a difficult situation. I guess that makes me the real dork since I don't have any deeper meaning for the geeky stuff. Just that it's pretty much awesome.

I sigh, stretching out and cuddling into her jacket. My mind won't shut off though, and my body feels like it's been chopped up in an engine turbine and mashed back together. After an hour of fumbling around under the sheets, I give up on sleep and get one of the books from my nerdy collection.

The Guide to World of Warcraft catches my eye. I think the last time I flipped through its pages was a few years ago. Leaping back on my bed, I get ready to toss my comforter over me, but I pause.

I'm not hiding anymore. This can be good practice for me. Taking a deep breath, I open the book before I lose my nerve. The pages look brand-new. The picture of the Death Knight almost looks real. I trace the patterns on the thick armor and scary complexion. It looks totally badass, and I get the urge to play the game, ready to annihilate any and all competition.

I flip the page to the blood elves. Holy hell! What is that? There's a handwritten scribble in the margin! I would never write in one of my books, especially the WoW one. Putting the book closer to the light, I squint to make out what it says. Thanks for everything Camz! Better study up for our tournament this weekend. I'm gonna wipe the floor with you! -Lauren.

My elated feelings get swept away as I read her words, guilt replacing them instantly. As my eyes fill to the brim, I slam the cover of the book and chuck it across the bed.

I'm so naïve to think I can change everything overnight. That tournament was the first time I ditched her. I went to a party instead because they actually invited me. I ended up wasted and making out with another guy. Someone who's way popular and crowd pleasing. Totally brought me into Popular Camila's realm. I technically didn't cheat on Lauren, since we were never really together, but I'm sure it felt that way to her.

Crapola, not much has changed since then, has it?

And you know what sucks? I didn't even care. I was too happy to finally feel accepted I didn't even apologize. I didn't say a word to her about it. I kept my window shut and curtains closed and went out and partied every chance I could. Next time I saw her was in school. She was even nice to me then, and I shoved her aside like she meant nothing to me. All because she reminded me of the stuff I was made fun of for.

Holy crap! Why is she willing to give me another chance? After everything, I've put her through. Here I am feeling all mushy gushy over her kisses when they never should've happened. I don't want to be that girl-the girl who uses sex and alcohol to solve everything. The girl I was last night. Lauren doesn't want that girl either. How the hell did I think kissing her was a good idea? I'm the most selfish person in the world.

I glance at the clock, trying to focus my eyes through the watery blur. It's almost eight-thirty, and definitely not the time to call and cancel since she's probably crashed out from being up all night too. Maybe I can pretend to be sick or something. I mean, I do feel pretty effing awful. But would that be better or worse than going out with her? I don't want to mess this up, but now the building pressure of it all makes me feel like I don't stand a chance of fixing anything.

I grab the back of my head and pull it to my knees as I struggle with all my guilt, bawling until there's no liquid left in me. Somewhere between confidence and insecurity, I finally drift off to escape my jumbled mind.

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