LAUREN
Toothpaste
Shampoo
Tampons
Pencils
Inflatable Bouncy Castle
"Alright, Alyssa, the list looks good. But I don't think we can't get a bouncy house," I joked, looking up at her. She was standing in front of me, just realizing now that we were out of tampons right before her period, or as she so lovingly called it, 'The Red Typhoon of Fury,' was about to start.
As these situations usually go, she had also discovered several other things that were absolutely vital for survival missing around the dorm room.
"It's called an Inflatable Bouncy Castle, and I knew it was a long shot," she teased back, falling down onto the spinning desk chair behind her.
"Is there anything else you might possibly need from me? Anything you're forgetting? I don't want to take two trips"
"Ooh, dieting pills," she blurted. I gave her a concerned look.
"Why, Alyssa."
"Please," she whined. I sighed.
"Is that all?" I managed. She shook her head.
"Thank you!" She jumped up and gave me a hug, and then sat back down in the chair, spinning around to the desk so she could continue watching a makeup tutorial on YouTube. I smiled at the back of her head, then pulled my shoes on and left the dorm room, making my way outside to the pharmacy.
Alyssa was a strange person. If this had been high school, we probably would have been mortal enemies. She was preppy, obsessed with boys, and she spent more time at the salon than her classes, yet she was my best friend.
College was weird, maybe it just opened your eyes up to how shallow and petty teenagers are. Alyssa was one of the happiest, energetic, and out going people I knew. Her friendship meant a lot to me, and mine did to hers.
I sped through the sidewalk to the Pharmacy in what some would call record time. The truth is, I had taken so many of these last minute trips in the middle of the week, I had the fastest route to the clinic memorized.
I opened the glass door with the pharmacy logo painted on it, and a little bell rang above my head. The cashier standing at the counter looked over at me and smiled, before continuing to flip through the celebrity gossip magazine she was reading.
I briskly paced down the aisles, immediately finding tampons, shampoo and toothpaste. Then I made my way over to the school supplies. My phone vibrated in my purse, so I pulled it out and held it up to my ear, pulling pencils off of the shelf.
"Hi, Alex," I chirped into the receiver.
"Lauren," he mumbled worriedly. I face contorted from cheerfulness to concern immediately. "We may have a big problem."
"What's wrong?"
"Someone got pictures of us."
<====><====>
"Why is this even a problem?"I asked nervously, carrying my pharmacy bag close by my side, making my way past a less crowded street than usual. Only a few people stalked the sidewalk. I avoided them, my phone still plastered to my ear.
"Don't take this personally, Lauren. It's just, management doesn't-"
"Management doesn't what?" I interrupted him, growing a bit frustrated.
"Surprises. They don't like surprises, and you're a big one."
"Are you saying you haven't told anyone about us yet?"
"The boys know. That's pretty much it. I didn't want this to grow into anything big in the media until our relationship was more solid. But now there are pictures are online."
My heart fluttered a little in my chest. "What does that mean?"
"I mean, I want this work I guess and paparazzi ruin relationships. Remember Emily? It's not like I want this to be a secret. But I'm not an idiot when it comes to the press. You should always downplay it at first, otherwise the tabloids start up rumors."
"So what are we supposed to do? If pictures are leaked, rumors are going to start."
"I'm not sure. I can't get a hold of management, I think they're ignoring me. They do that sometimes when they panic. Don't worry, in a couple days they'll have a solution. For now, I think it would be best if you laid low. Don't draw much attention to yourself, maybe ask Alyssa to run chores and stuff, just for a couple days. You don't want reporters taking pictures and stuff." His voice was muffled, but I made the words out, stopping dead in my tracks.
"Alex, I'm doing chores now."
"Well stop! Just get to your dorm and chill out. I'm using Jason's phone to text them. They like him more."
"That makes sense."
"Ooh, Taylor texted back. She said we're having a band meeting tomorrow, so don't worry, just lay low the rest of the night. Get off of the streets." He assured. I nodded, even though I knew he couldn't see me.
"Okay, I'll stay safe. I love you."
My mouth went dry and my eyes bulged.
I stood still, mortified in the middle of the sidewalk, hoping I would be transported to an alternate universe where I hadn't said those words, where I hadn't puked on our first date. A universe where I fell in love with someone I hadn't been obsessed before I met them. A shuffle could be heard from the other end of the line, but otherwise silence. I pressed the phone to my ear harder.
How careless and absolutely daft could I be? I love you? We had been on two dates, two! He probably thought I was some crazy stalker fan now. I had ruined anything we had, and made it completely awkward. I thought Alex was actually at a true loss for words on the other end.
He had absolutely no idea who I was, and I loved him?
I clenched my fist tight, holding my breath. When no response could be heard, I felt the urge to speak. I tried to hold back the words, but began blubbering into the phone like the embarrassed lunatic I was.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that, it just kind of fell out. You know, because you say 'love you' to people before hanging up the phone, like with your grandparents and stuff. I didn't mean it like that at all. I don't love you. I was a fan before, but I don't love you, I mean you're great, but no." The words fell out of my mouth so fast I hardly had time to process them, like a waterfall of regret. "I don't."
"Don't lie, Lauren." He civilly hung up the call.
The blood drained from my face, and I slowly opened my purse, sliding my phone back in. And then I continued walking in the direction of my dorm, my brain numbed.
"Hey!" A voice called out as I walked by, trying not to draw attention to myself. "You're the girl Alex was seen with yesterday!" I stopped, looking over at the person.
She had delicate features on her face, wide set eyes, and a sophisticated, tiny mouth that seemed to be permanently pursed. She tilted her head, squinting her eyes. They were a wet green, faded to the point of making her look lost in her own mind.
"Nah, you must be thinking of someone else," I smiled cheekily at her, but my insides were paralyzed.
"Then why did you stop when I said hey?" She smiled sweetly, but the hair on the back of my neck prickled. "Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you should know that Alex's last girlfriend was a celebrity, Emily Winston-"
I laughed nervously, "What's your point?"
"My point is he has a certain taste, and I'm afraid you don't fit the qualifications. You don't seem to realize that if you and Alex really do start dating, the press and fans are going to eat you alive. You're not a fan, and you're not famous, so you don't deserve to as much as look at him."
"What do you mean, I'm not a fan?" My face furrowed. She airily chuckled.
"I can just tell."
"Well then you're obviously not a good judge of character. Let me give it to you straight. No matter the relationship status of Alex Morrison, he will never find you in anyway the least bit attractive. Because if you find a girl that looks similar to the one you saw in a blurry paparazzi photo with your man crush Monday on the street, and you decided to approach her and tell her to stand down, you have issues. Issues that will probably take years to calibrate again correctly. Now if you will excuse me, my friend needs tampons."
And with that, I pushed her aside. She grabbed my arm roughly, and a fearful feeling flashed through my body before I turned back to her. A certain jealously filled her eyes that quivered my core.
"He's mine," she demanded threateningly. I shook my head.
"Sorry to break it to you, but he doesn't know you exist."
Shock and hatred filled her lungs, and she wound her hand back, ready to sock me in the face. My eyes widened, and I raised my arms to defend myself, still holding my purse and pharmaceutical bag.
Oh please don't punch me. The only self defense I know is from that two night, free, anti-sexual abuse seminar my parents made me attend when I was 13.
Her palm started hurtling toward my face, but something stopped it in it's tracks, a large, hairy fist.
It wrapped around her wrist and twisted her arm around, pinning her to the brick wall of a building against the sidewalk. I gaped in awe of my rescuer. He leaned into the fan as she was pressed against the wall in fear.
"That's my girlfriend, sweetheart, so you better move along and not lay another finger on her."