What's Up, Buttercup?

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//:

kinda mature-ish

"Karla Cabello." Camila announces in a sheepish voice to the receptionist. She's late to school, one of her least favourite things. Anxiety riddles her body.

"Karlaaa." The woman drawls until she finds the name in the student list, printing a pass and handing it to Camila with a minuscule smile. Resisting the urge to cringe, the girl takes the small yellow note and heads into the halls of the school.

Camila hates only one thing more than her first name, and when she walks down the hall to find red paint dragged along the previously blue walls and lockers, she is reminded of what it is: chaos. It makes her crazy. As a result, Camila hates Lauren. That girl is almost always the one behind the chaos, the creator of it all. Lauren loves it; it's evident in the wicked little smirk she adopts whenever things get out of hand. Camila can almost see her hunched over a bubbling cauldron with that smile on her face, brewing some kind of foul concoction to eradicate all things simple. As if by a similar form of magic, Camila meets the eyes of the troublemaker who is striding down the hall, spray can in hand. She's begging to get caught, much like Camila's staring just did.

"Hey, Camzi!" The black-haired girl calls mockingly, hinting to their history. She stalks towards Camila like a panther to it's prey. Rattles taunt the girl when Lauren shakes the bottle, that dreaded smirk manifesting itself on her lips. "What's up, buttercup?"

Don't crack, Camila.

"Hey, Lauren." The younger greets with an accidental bite to her tone.

"Ouch, so cold!" Lauren feigns hurt, holding her hand over her heart (or lack thereof). Then, a smile rapidly appears on her face before she winks and continues her path down the ball, laughing maniacally as she leaves a trail of red paint on the lockers beside her.

Camila remains staring at the space Lauren had previously occupied. In fact, she doesn't move at all until the sound of that laugh is muffled by the corner. Then, and only then, does she let out a sigh and turn to open her locker. If she's late already, she might as well take her time to gather what she needs rather then be late and unprepared.

As she opens the locker, however, she lets out a yelp and brings her hands up to protest herself as she is bombarded with what feels like hundreds of ping pong balls, all noisily bouncing away after assaulting her. That god-awful laugh starts up again. She should've known that girl wouldn't stray far! She left too easily!

"Screw you, Jauregui!" She yells down the hall, forgetting where she is for a moment.

"Maybe later!" Is the response. Of course it is. What else would Lauren Jauregui say in reply to that comment?

Camila huffs out of frustration and begins to collect all of the little white balls, tucking as many as she can into a temporary pouch made by folding her shirt up slightly. Bending down to pick up another, she freezes when she feels hands on her waist. She instantly turns a deep red as she's tugged back slightly until her hips slam against another pair. God damnit.

"I missed you." Lauren growls, quickly adding, as if it wouldn't be obvious that she's trying to cover up the first statement, "Like this."

Camila stands quickly, or as quickly as she can while still in shock, and allows herself to be span by Lauren's thumbs tucked into the waistband of her skirt. Using the momentum to her advantage, she brings her hand around to slap Lauren across the face, as she deserves.

The green-eyed girl takes a deep breath, staring off to the side with her jaw hanging slightly open. The sound of pingpong balls bouncing fills her ears again, and she smirks with her mouth still open. Sure, she'll admit, her face still a little from the slap. It's nothing she isn't used to though. Adjusting her jaw until it feels comfortable again, she turns back to a very shocked Camila. Her hands are still resting on her hips, keeping them flush against her own, though there doesn't seem to be much battle going on on the other end anymore.

"So you're kinky now, huh?" She teases, her final defence. Leaning down to whisper against Camila's ear, she comments, "I always knew you were."

That's it for Camila. She's had enough. She's had enough of being pushed around by her good for nothing ex. She's had enough of her owning the school while Camila is left to pick up the scraps and clean up the messes left behind. She's going to show Lauren what she's made of.

"Fuck you." She utters, pushing against the girl's shoulders and ignoring the small crowd of escaped students growing around them, "Fuck you and your ego. Fuck you and your dirty fucking smirk. Fuck you and your green eyes, and your annoying eyebrows which, by the way, are shaped perfectly. Fuck you and that... that ass of yours. Fuck you for being so god damn perfect." Well, that didn't go as expected. Camila punctuated each sentence with another push against Lauren's shoulders, each sending her back until she's trapped against the lockers.

"Fuck you," Camila whispers, pressing herself against Lauren this time and whispering into her ear, "For losing your chance with me, and never saying sorry."

Feeling like she's taken back a thin sliver of control, Camila's own smile appears as she steps back and brushes herself off. Finishing her job of taking what she needs from her locker, she closes it before making her way to her first class.

Oh. That's the bell. Okay... before making her way to her second class.

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