Hi, Camila. It's Camila. We haven't spoken for a while.
"It's not like that," I say, opening my eyes and grinning. I can't help but feel happy she's interested, even though I feel more guilty about the whole make-out-with-random-guy thing.
"Not like what?" She asks. "We're not dating or anything."
She puckers her forehead and her green eyes narrow. Whoops, maybe not the right thing to say.
"You always kiss guys you aren't dating?" Yeah, definitely not the right thing to say. I can hear the double meaning behind the question and my insides turn to mulch. "It was just... a mistake. That's all. I've had a bad week."
That's the understatement of the year.
"Want to talk about it?" Yes. I want to be back in her living room with the Nintendo controller, spilling my guts about how fake and stupid I am, how Austin assaulted me, and how every night I cover myself with my blanket and read comic books. But nothing escapes my tongue. It's too much, and I'm not allowed to dump it on her. Since she's not my friend and all.
"I'm sorry I asked," she says, shifting in her seat. "I just-"
"Worry?" A smile forms on my lips, but I don't look at her. "Yeah." She answers. "Why?" I keep my eyes locked on a speck on the window. "Why what?"
"Why do you worry about me?" I hate it when she hesitates. Every breath I take during the silence I get more and more self-conscious and question why I say the stupid things I say.
"I dunno. I guess I-I'll always worry about you, Camila." It doesn't answer my question, but I don't care. I can't help the smile that glues onto my face as I finally look at her.
"Nice." She furrows her brow at my amused tone. "What?" I poke her shoulder. "Episode 34?"
She raises her eyes to the ceiling and smirks. "Yeah. I think you're right. I didn't mean to steal the line, though. I meant it." I laugh and she smiles with me. "I still can't believe you remember all of it."
"I don't have amnesia. And it hasn't been that long." She nods. "Feels like it has though." There she goes, sucking the fun out of the conversation again. I try to bring it back. "How was the documentary?"
"You really want to know? You did dive out my window to avoid it." Crap. Why do I fall so easily into Geek Camila around her? "No. Just trying small talk," I lie. She takes a deep breath and starts picking at a hole in her jeans. "I'd much rather hear about you."
"What do you mean?" I ask. "You know that thing I walked in on? Did it contribute to your bad week?" Yes, but I'm so not talking about it. "No." Yikes! I didn't mean to sound so rude. Like, we were totally having a good time and I snap at her.
She leans back, her eyes a bit wide. "S-sorry. It's none of my business." What the heck? It's totally her business! I mean, she stopped Austin from... going further. I barked down her throat afterward. And she doesn't look down on me because of it. She worries about me.
Why does she worry about me? It doesn't make any sense! I ditched her. Kicked her right out of my life and kept her far from me so I wouldn't have to endure High School Emotional Hell.
And it's worked, for the most part. Then Austin attacked me, and I've tried all my mightiest to forget about it. But I haven't forgotten.
At all. And I haven't talked to anyone either.
Tears prick the edges of my eyes, and I blink them back. No, no, no. I'm not going to cry, dang it. I will get through this without crying. That will make it seem like I've made a mistake by being Popular Camila. Which I haven't. Right?
Taking a large gulp to rid my mouth of the building saliva, I huff out a barely audible response. "What you saw with Austin... it's not usually like that."
Her neck turns toward me so fast I think her head may spin off. "What do you mean?" Her tone is soft, soothing, full of concern. You know, all those emotions I don't deserve.
"If you hadn't come over, she would have... I'm pretty sure he was gonna..." Something in my voice box shuts down and I can't keep going. She leans forward, face inches away from mine. If she wants me to talk, this won't help. I can barely concentrate with her so close.
"Why did you lie to me?" I shrug. "Camz." She puts her hands on mine. Her skin feels so good and my inhibitions about everything, all of it, disappear. I want to talk to her. One-hundred percent as myself.
A shaky breath escapes my lips before I answer. "I was scared." Oh gosh. Here comes the flood. I turn my face from her so she doesn't see it starting. How can I explain what's going through my mind? How can I tell her without crying? How...? Just... how?
"And I-I deserved it." Her mouth pops open. "What did you say?"
"I said I was scared." I know what he means, but I don't want to repeat myself. She leans back, letting go of my hands and kneading her forehead. "Tell me why you think you deserve to be sexually harassed."
Honesty, Camila.
"Because I'm a slut." Because I let people believe I'm a slut. Austin probably thought I'd lead him straight to the vault, and when I didn't-."
"No, you're not." Her face flushes like she shot off a comment without thinking. I raise my eyebrows. "I mean... I don't think..." My heart flutters as she tries to find the words. I let her off the hook because really, she's giving me a lot more than she knows. And I'm being stupid anyway.
"Thank you."
"For?" I blink like crazy, trying to keep those cursed tears back, but I'm not successful. I'm crying, dang it. And I can't stop. "For thinking more of me than I'm worth."
Lauren wipes my cheeks, which isn't helping because I don't freaking deserve her concern right now. So I cry harder.
"I'm sorry this happened to you," she says, shaking as she goes to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear, but can't seem to get it right. I chuckle and she moves her hand to wipe the tears from my face again. I'm glad the shifter is between us. I think I'm about to lose it and crawl into her arms. I can't do that without wanting more from her.
She drops her hand. "No matter what you think, you don't deserve it." I open my mouth to argue but she cuts me off. "You. Don't. Deserve. It."
I nod, even though she's only half right. I don't deserve to be attacked, but Popular Camila signed up for this reputation. That's the price I pay for feeling accepted. My tears turn to sniffles and Lauren leans back. My body aches without her holding onto me and my bottom lip almost juts out.
Come back, please. Just hold me a little longer.
The silence stretches between us, but it's not awkward. I feel relieved like I'm finally being myself for the first time in a long time. A breath of fresh air, a weight off my shoulders, and all those other good-feeling clichés.
She gulps and wipes her palms on her jeans. "You ready to get going?" I sigh and look at the clock. It's getting close to dinner, and I know Lauren needs to get home, but I really don't want her to.
"I guess." She chuckles. "Unless you want to grab something to eat?"
I want to. I really do. I want to sit with her and talk. Catch up, find out more about her life now, and talk Spiderman, Star Trek, Call of Duty, and everything else under the geeky sun. Maybe come up with a few kick-ass quantum theories.
But I can't risk being seen with her. What would people think? I wish I could openly date her, or at least try, because I have no idea how deep her feelings go for me, especially after all the crap I've pulled. But I'm too terrified of high school becoming middle school all over again. Besides, Lauren deserves someone way better than me. I can only imagine the swirling gossip, and especially since the conversation I had with Normani today, the repercussions of going out with her would chop the head off of my social status. That shouldn't be what I'm concerned about when I'm with her. But just thinking about it all makes my heart kick-start into a fury and my breathing becomes freaky erratic.
Calm down, Camila. "No. You told your mom you'd be home for dinner. You don't want to piss her off."
"Then come over and eat." She smiles at me and I roll my eyes. Another escape from the bathroom is not what I had in mind for tonight.
"Thanks, but I really should go home."
"Okay. But you're missing out on some good food." I'm sure I am. Mrs. Jauregui's cooking is amazing from what I remember. But this whole thing has gone on long enough. Time to get back to the real world.
I turn the key and smack my hand on the shifter. Lauren buckles back up and sits there watching my arm as I try to shift.
"Um, hello?" I say giving up and waving my hand in front of her. "I still need your help."
She laughs and laces her fingers with mine over the gearbox. "Just remember, I can't hold your hand every time."
But she gives me a little squeeze, letting me know she won't mind if I ask her again.