the green of your eyes

13

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Brad follows her, and she rolls her eyes and picks up her pace to get away from him, pushing open the doors to the parking lot. "Sorry, but you don't get to lead me on one day then reject me the next."

While she's normally quite calm and level-headed, even when people are trying to come at her, that makes her snap slightly.

"I never fucking led you on, you asshole. I danced with you when I was fucking drunk, and then I talked to you politely like a normal fucking human being. Never once told you I was into you." Lauren snaps, and when she sees Camila, she almost runs towards her, hugging her in greeting and trying to ignore Brad's shouts, "Sorry. Let's go. Ignore all of that, he's salty because I rejected him."

She unlocks her car, opening the door, but her heart pretty much stops in fear when Brad shouts, "Oh, I get it, you're a fucking dyke! Fuck off with your little girlfriend, then."

And her terrified reaction does nothing but make him laugh and add, "Oh my god, I'm actually right."

Maybe it's her own fault for not letting the insult roll off her back like she would any other thing. Maybe she exposed herself. Or maybe it's because she can't think of any way to dissuade him from the obvious conclusion he's come to.

"Fuck off," is all she manages, getting into her car and slamming the door behind her, trying to blink back any tears and failing quite ridiculously. But if she cries, then Camila will know. And if she's Cuba, maybe she's sat there feeling disappointed. Not that she's not going to know by the time stupid fucking Brad tells people, but whatever.

"Hey," Camila reaches over and takes her hand, trying to catch her eye, "ignore him, okay? He's an asshole, and guys like that will say anything to justify themselves."

He's going to fucking tell people, Lauren almost says, but saying it out loud just makes it more real. So instead, she puts her key in the ignition, pulls her hand away from Camila's, and murmurs, "Okay. Ice cream."

She starts the car, but Camila touches her arm, and she hates this even more because she's only supposed to feel butterflies for Cuba, and she doesn't know if she's Camila or not. Just the possibility doesn't justify it. "You can talk to me, you know."

"Actually, I think I just... need to go home." Lauren tries to hold herself together, but when she looks at Camila and sees the concern on her face, she almost bursts into tears. "We can... do this some other time. I'll see you. After Christmas break, probably."

Camila frowns, and doesn't make a move to leave. "I don't particularly want to leave you alone when you look like you're about to have a panic attack or something."

"Well, too fucking bad, because I want you to go," Lauren snaps, and she knows Michelle would tell her she's overreacting, taking her anger out on the wrong person, and she knows that, but she just wants to go home, curl up in her bed and cry. This isn't how it's supposed to happen. Brad will tell people, and then Cuba will know who she is, if she's not sat right next to her, and it won't go at all like she'd planned it. "Just go, Camila."

Camila just looks at her, hurt swimming in her eyes at the way she'd snapped, but she nods and unbuckles her seatbelt. "Alright then. But I'm telling Michelle."

"Just stay out of it." Lauren shouts. "It was nothing, okay? He just made some shit up to boost his own ego."

Camila sighs, getting out of the car, muttering something that sounds a lot like, "I was just trying to help," but Lauren ignores her, driving away the moment she's out. Internally, somewhere, she knows she's freaking out, that she's going to regret shouting once she's calmed down and assures herself that Brad was probably just trying to hit a nerve, that he probably won't tell people. But she just drives, getting off campus and getting home, immediately hiding under the covers of her bed like she's still seven and worried about the monsters in the dark.