Caught (Camren)

•2•

"Actually, I took this class last year," Lauren dismissed. "I don't think I'll have any trouble. In fact, I was wondering when we would get our projects for the end of the year. I'd like to go ahead and get an early start."

"Oh my God," I groaned between laughter. "I don't think we'll have any problems, Ms. Lloyd. This eleventh grade class is clearly a walk in the park to a senior of such high status."

"I give up," Ms. Lloyd sighed. "Just...please try not to kill each other."

She returned to her desk and Lauren snatched the note cards, pulling off the rubber band and placing it neatly on the corner of her desk. I watched her every movement. She was so precise- so perfect- that I was afraid if I breathed the wrong way she would explode. I hadn't been so close to her yet. She smelled like laundry detergent and light, flowery perfume. Squeaky clean, of course. This was going to be harder than I thought.

"So, your name's Lauren," I observed.

She just nodded. "Do you want to do these together or study separately?"

"I have to say, I'm a little disappointed that I had to find out your name this way instead of straight from you," I told her, ignoring her question.

"It doesn't matter what my name is."

"I'm Camila," I smirked, extending my hand for her to shake.

She just stared at it and I lowered it slowly, more disappointed by her apparent attitude than her denial of my greeting.

"So...you're a senior?" I questioned.

"Why are you talking to me?" she asked flatly.

"Because we're partners and I'm making small talk," I answered. "Are you on some pedestal that towers above everyone else, or are you always this rude?"

"I don't know, are you determined to make the worst first impression I've ever experienced in my life, or are you always this cocky?" she retorted.

She returned her attention to the cards and I stared at her. She was hard not to stare at. The way her brow furrowed and the way her bottom lip poked out further than the top made me wonder what she would look like face to face. She was painfully attractive, but it was that kind of pleasurable pain that becomes addictive if not taken care of.

"Why are you always in so much trouble?" she continued after a while.

"Uh...drugs, alcohol, smoking, cussing- oh, one time I got caught in the utility closet with-"

"Okay," she interrupted quickly. "But why? Why do you do those things?"

"Why do you care?"

"I'm just curious," she shrugged.

She shoved the stack of cards in my direction but I waved them away. I turned in my chair and kicked my feet up on the desktop, laying them half across my desk and half across hers. She stared at me curiously and I smiled, throwing my hands up in the air by my head.

"Why not?" I laughed.

"I can think of a few reasons," she mumbled quietly.

"So, what? You're a good girl or something?" I teased. "You can't tell me you've never made a mistake."

"I've made mistakes, just not repeatedly."

"And what makes you think you know anything about me?" I demanded.

She was hot, no doubt, but she had no room to call me cocky and act like she was better than me at the same time. She was in for a rude awakening if she thought she could get away with that.