off camera.

prologue

The girl looks pleasantly surprised. "De nada."

Camila's eyes widen, and she stares at this girl, this little angel who'd saved her, because she can't believe that someone so nice could also speak Spanish. Excitedly, she starts rambling about herself, about how she'd just moved from Cuba, about how much she hated school, and asking if she wants to be friends, and as she goes on, a frown forms on Lauren's face.

"I'm sorry- um, I mean, lo siento." Lauren says, and Camila's heart sinks. "I don't know that much Spanish yet. I mean, um... no hablo Español muy bien. My mami is teaching me, though. She says it's important for me to understand my background. Or something."

Camila pouts, but understands the essence of what the girl says. Almost repeating Lauren's sentence, she says, "no hablo Ingles muy bien."

"Oh," Lauren frowns, and Camila gets frightened that she's just going to leave, say sorry, I guess we can't be friends. "Well, um, maybe we can teach each other."

Understanding what she means, Camila smiles, nodding enthusiastically. Thinking it important to ask the girl this in her native language, Camila stammers, "Us... friends?"

"Yeah! We can be friends," Lauren smiles, biting into the second cookie from the plastic bag. Camila had forgotten the one she was holding, and bites into it. "So, uh, you understand English, but can't speak it well yet?"

Camila nods, "Si."

"Okay, well, I promise I won't use any big words, but that's okay, because I don't know any, anyway." Lauren munches happily on her cookie, crumbs falling down the front of the little dress she's wearing. "Wait, what's your name? Are you a kindergartener? You're really little."

"Camila," Camila answers, introducing herself by her middle name. She's always preferred it, even though her parents insist on calling her Karla, but that doesn't mean her friend can't call her it. "Lauren."

"Yeah, I'm Lauren," the older girl announces, smiling, "I'm in second grade. I'm seven years old, you know. I'm getting real big. How old are you?"

"Seis," Camila answers, brushing the cookie crumbs from her lap and smiling up at Lauren. "bonita."

Lauren crinkles her nose at the word. Camila hadn't meant to say it; it just slipped out as she looks at her. "What does that mean?"

Camila frowns, not sure how to explain it, and just points at Lauren, hoping that will get the message across. When the bell sounds, signalling the start of class again, Camila pouts and stands up, brushing the rest of the crumbs off her. "Adios."

Lauren frowns, and scrambles to stand up, grabbing Camila's hand and walking to the first grade classroom with her. "I'm going to take you to class, just in case that mean boy is still around."

Camila blinks, but nods, and she doesn't understand why she feels funny, holding the other girl's hand. She ignores the weird feeling as they walk, but pouts when they reach her classroom door. She looks up at Lauren with wide eyes, the other girl just a little taller than she is, before she throws herself on the girl in a hasty hug, mutters another "gracias", and runs into the classroom before Lauren can say a word in reply.

-

2005

Her little saviour turns into her best friend. Every recess, Lauren seeks her out, sitting with her, occasionally offering her some sweet treat, giving her the chocolate she doesn't like. Camila is a third grader now, and her English is much better, thanks to Lauren's help. Lauren's Spanish is coming along nicely as well, and the first time Camila had invited her over for dinner after school, she'd spoken to Camila's parents entirely in Spanish.