A week passed and I made no attempt to contact Lauren. I walked into class every day and didn't even bother to look at her, though I could feel her eyes on the back of my head through the entire period. On the days that we didn't have a choice but to partner up, she insisted that I tell her why I was so angry with her, but I never answered. I just put in my headphones and stared down at my notebook. I didn't know how to explain that I wasn't angry with her; I was angry with myself for letting things get so far. She eventually gave up on the idea that I would respond, and by the time Friday rolled around, she hadn't spoken to me in nearly forty-eight hours. There was no tension, no unresolved conflict between us, just an abundance of confusion and a whole hell of a lot of hormones.
Friday after school I planned to go to a party with the boys to get my mind off of things. They didn't know that anything had even happened between Lauren and me, and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. I showed up to Andrew's an hour before we were set to leave so that we could ride together, running to his apartment as quickly as my feet would allow to avoid any possible contact with Lauren. He opened the door and I pushed my way inside, immediately finding my way to the couch and collapsing in an exhausted heap.
"You okay?" he laughed.
"Yeah," I panted. "I'm good."
I wished he would join me, but he seemed to have more important things on his mind. He walked into the kitchen and pulled a jar off the top of the fridge, pulling off the lid and retrieving the contents. I watched him curiously as he pulled out several buds and some paper, sitting them on the counter top and getting to work.
"Are you taking those to the party?" I asked.
He nodded. "Unless you want one now."
"No thanks," I sighed.
He shrugged and went back to work, his attention on his hands and not on me where I wanted it. I wanted to talk about my frustration with Lauren despite my initial decision to keep it under the rug- or my frustration with myself, more than likely- but he didn't seem interested. I knew him well enough to know that the last thing he wanted before going to a party was to hear my "girl drama." I had a feeling if I didn't get everything off my chest, I would most likely have a mental breakdown.
"I fucked Lauren," I blurted out.
His attention snapped to me momentarily, but he soon returned to his work, laughing quietly to himself and shaking his head in disbelief.
"That doesn't count," he argued. "You didn't actually fuck her at the party and you got interrupted."
"We did it again...two days later."
He placed his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes at me. I could tell he didn't believe me, or maybe he just didn't want to, but I didn't really blame him. He knew me for my ability to lure girls back to my bedroom, but not once had I ever scored with the same girl twice. Frankly, I couldn't even believe Lauren had come back for more.
"Are you bullshitting me?" he asked.
"No, Andrew, I'm not bullshitting you," I snapped. "Do you actually think I would joke about that? It is Lauren we're talking about here. Have you seen her?"
He sighed and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and examining the contents. He pulled out a twenty dollar bill and walked over to the couch, shoving it in my direction.
"I don't want it," I told him.
"You won the bet."
"I know I did, and I don't care. I don't want-"
"Just take it," he insisted, dropping the money on my lap and turning back towards his project.
"Andrew, I don't want to-"
"Mila, you know how this works," he protested. "If you win the bet you claim the prize, no arguments."
I stood from the couch abruptly and stomped over to him, slapping the money on the counter and burying my face in my hands.
"I don't want your fucking money, okay?" I choked out, my voice cracking in frustration.
He was quiet. I was quiet. Everything was quiet and completely unbearable. Any time I was enveloped by silence, all I could hear was Lauren's voice, begging me to hold on as I ran out of her room. The guilt was eating me alive. I shouldn't have let whatever our relationship was get to that point in the first place. Twice I had given her a good time, and the one time she was ready to return the favor, I ran out. What the hell was going on in my head? I wanted her and I knew I did, yet there I was, avoiding her and whining about it front of my best friend.
"Mila...what's wrong?" Andrew asked quietly.
"I don't know," I admitted, removing my hands from my face and staring down at my feet.
He grabbed my arm and led me to the couch, sitting me down and wrapping his arm around my shoulder supportively. I leaned into his chest and closed my eyes, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill out. It wasn't like me to cry. In fact, in all the years I'd known Andrew, I didn't think he'd ever seen me cry, but I was just so confused. I didn't know what else to do.
"Explain to me exactly what happened," he instructed. "Start with the party."
"You know what we did at the party," I reminded him.
"I don't care. I want to hear it all," he insisted. "I can't help you if I have no idea what's going on."
I sat up and repositioned myself so that I was facing him, my knees pulled to my chest.
"The party's kind of self explanatory," I started. "Everything was great, then I passed out after the cops showed up, and when I woke up she was gone. That's not abnormal, of course. I've never stayed with a girl for the entire night, but I couldn't help but worry about her. I kept thinking, 'what if something happened to her,' or, 'what if she tried to leave and got hurt?' I've never worried about someone like that in my life. Of all the times I've hooked up with a girl as plastered as she was, she was the first one I've ever been genuinely concerned about. Then I got to school, and there she was- thank God- so I went to talk to her, and she told me to stay away from her. She told me I was a bad influence and she had more important things to think about."
"But I thought you hooked up with her again," Andrew chimed in.
"Well, I didn't say I listened to her," I laughed. "I apologized to her like you suggested, and sure enough she accepted it. She even said she didn't have a problem being friends with me, so I invited her over to hang out. Nothing more. My only intention was to get to know her, and we were off to a good start, but the next thing I knew I had her clothes on the floor and she didn't protest. After that point, she didn't really seem to have a problem with me. Then last week I tried to talk her into going to that party but she refused. She seemed kind of...distant. So I decided to stay with her instead, and we actually got to talk- like really talk- but then she started asking me about the other girls and telling me how good she could make me feel, and she came onto me. She kissed me and started taking my clothes off and...I don't know. I stopped her. It took me by surprise."
"So what was the problem?" he asked impatiently. "Were you just surprised because she wanted to fuck you?"
As much as I wanted to say yes, to just leave it at that and move on, that was not the case. I wasn't surprised in the least that Lauren wanted to do those things with me. After two days of unreciprocated contact with her, I figured she'd want to return the favor eventually. Granted, I was surprised, but not because of her actions. I was surprised by the way they made me feel. I was surprised by the things they made me think.
"It just felt...wrong," I admitted.
"Give me a break," he chuckled. "You've fucked plenty of girls and you've never felt bad about it before, but God forbid one comes along that wants to fuck you and all hell breaks loose."
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what, Mila?" he demanded. "You're making a big deal out of nothing. Lauren's no different than any of the other girls you've been with. Just because she comes onto you doesn't mean-"
"I think I like her, Andrew," I interrupted.
His jaw dropped as if he was going to speak but no sound came out. He looked just as shocked to hear the words as I was to finally admit them.
"I thought you had a rule against getting attached," he recalled. "I mean, how can you like someone that you know nothing about?"
"I don't think I can help myself when it comes to Lauren," I admitted. "That's why I stopped her. As much as I wanted her to keep going, I know that the longer I spend with her and the closer I get to her, the more I'm going to want to know her."
"She's no different than the other girls."
"Yes she is," I insisted. "I don't know how, but she is. She's not good for me, Andrew."
"And you're good for her?" he snapped. "She's not the one that gets wasted every weekend and gets high on a daily basis, you are. You're just as bad."
"No, she's worse," I said quietly. "It's not about the things she does. She could be in a gang or rescue puppies for a living; I'd still be equally as terrified of her either way."
"Why? She's just a girl."
"Yeah, the kind that breaks hearts," I chuckled nervously. "That's the number one reason I don't let myself get attached. I'm so afraid of having my heart broken."
He got off the couch and walked back into the kitchen, placing the drugs inside a Ziploc bag and shoving them into the pockets of his shorts.
"Are you not going to say anything?" I asked.
"I don't know what to say, Mila," he shrugged. "Seventeen years I've known you and not once have you ever admitted to liking someone."
"I just figured you'd have something supportive to say...you know, since you're my best friend and all."
"Personally, I think you're way ahead of yourself," he told me. "I think you're making a decision based off of two nights you've shared with her."
"And what if I'm not?" I demanded.
"Then it's your job to figure it out," he answered, annoyance evident in his tone. "For now, we have a party to get to. Lighten up, will you? You're bumming me out."
I set my jaw and pushed myself off the couch, following him out of his apartment and getting in the car. Maybe the party would get my mind off of things, although I didn't think any amount of alcohol could silence the sound of Lauren's name as it repeated itself over and over again in my mind.
...
Andrew pulled up outside of the party and I unbuckled my seatbelt, lingering in the car as I took in the size of the house. The rest of the boys got out and I followed, walking behind them as we approached the stairs.
"Whose party is this?" I asked no one in particular.
"One of the football player's," Micah shrugged. "We figured we'd crash it if anything."
"I bet he has plenty of girls invited," Andrew smirked, nudging my shoulder playfully.
I forced my best smile and followed them through the doorway, keeping my head low as we walked through the crowd and ignoring the strange stares our group was receiving. The boys walked straight to the kitchen and poured each of us a drink. I took mine but didn't take a sip. I wasn't in the mood to drink, and I doubted the guys would be able to drive home by the time everything was said and done. They each split off in separate directions, leaving me completely alone, which was the last place I wanted to be. I found my way into the entryway and took a seat on the stairs, gripping my cup with both hands and pressing against the wall to allow people to get past me. I looked around at the crowds and tried to pick out a familiar face, but I didn't know a single soul. I felt out of place.
"Camila, right?" a deep voice asked.
I looked up to find a taller boy smiling up at me. He was wearing a football jersey and his dark hair was slicked back in the front, clean and proper as I expected. I knew him from school somehow, but I didn't remember his name. It must have been his party.
"Yeah," I nodded.
He sat down next to me on the stairs and took my cup from my hands, gulping down the whole thing and tossing it on the floor.
"Who are you exactly?" I wondered.
"Austin," he answered. "We go to school together."
I threw my head back in laughter as I realized who he was. He had just as bad of a reputation as I did, only he wore his with more pride. He was widely known for sleeping with every girl- straight girl, rather- at school. He'd never spoken to me before, and why he thought he had any right to was absolutely hilarious to me.
"What's so funny?" he demanded.
"You," I laughed. "Why are you talking to me?"
"You look lonely," he shrugged.
"That doesn't concern you."
"I'm just trying to be friendly," he defended.
He was clearly drunk and I had no interest in talking to him, but then again I had no one else. If I couldn't leave, the least I could do was try and enjoy myself.
"I like your tattoos," he smiled, pulling my arm closer to him and lifting up the sleeve of my shirt to observe the pulse line.
"You're aware that I'm gay, right?" I chuckled.
"Yeah," he sighed. "Aren't you fucking Lauren Jauregui?"
"How...how did you know about that?" I stammered.
I thought we had done a pretty decent job of keeping our experiences under the rug, despite the initial fight in the hallway at school and my conversations with Andrew. I hoped Lauren wasn't telling people. Would she? I doubted it. She seemed reluctant enough to talk about it with me. There was no way she would tell other people, but how else would Austin have known? I'd never talked to him in my life.
"It's kind of obvious," he told me. "Everyone knows that you get as much action as I do, and with the amount of time you two have been spending together, it's kind of a given."
"I mean, we've only done it once or twice..." I admitted. "Do you know her?"
"Boy, do I," he laughed, running his fingers through his hair and staring up at the ceiling.
"Did you fuck her?" I questioned.
"No, but I tried. Recently actually, like ten-minutes-ago recent."
I shot off the stairs and looked around frantically, expecting to find a pair of green eyes staring back at me but luckily finding vacant stares of strangers instead.
"Is she here?" I asked quietly.
"No, I ran to the convenience store down the street to grab some drinks and she was there," he explained. "She turned me down, but luckily they kicked me out before I had a chance to respond. It turns out it's pretty hard to buy alcohol when you're not twenty-one."
"You don't say..." I chuckled.
One of Austin's friends, also sporting a football jersey of course, peered around the corner and looked at the two of us curiously, but the second he recognized me he relaxed and stepped in front of us.
"Dude, we've got to figure out some way to get more booze," he worried. "People are starting to leave."
"They already kicked me out," Austin argued. "I can't go back."
"I'll go," I offered before I could stop myself. "I have a fake ID."
"You'd really do that?" Austin smiled.
"Yeah...I mean, I don't mind."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing me cash to buy the alcohol and smiling at me gratefully.
"I owe you one," he smirked.
"Save it," I said, rolling my eyes and sprinting into the kitchen to find my friends.
I located Andrew putting the moves on some girl and pulled him away, heading for the door with his wrist held firmly in my hand.
"Where are we going?" he demanded. "I was kind of busy."
"We're going to buy more drinks for Austin," I explained.
"I'm not going anywhere for that prick."
"Well, I'm not going alone, and it's your duty as my best friend to come along," I reminded him.
"Mila, can't he get it-"
"Just shut up and come with me," I begged. "If we leave now, we might make it before Lauren leaves."
He pulled out of my grasp and I turned around to face him, finding his scrutinizing gaze on me with his arms crossed over his chest.
"I thought you were avoiding her," he scolded.
"I...I am, I just..."
"Look, I'll go with you, but don't come crying to me when things don't go your way. I'm telling you, you're way ahead of yourself," he warned, fishing his keys out of his pocket and stepping outside.
I ran to catch up with him, shutting myself in the car with my heart pounding in my chest as we pulled away from the curb.
...
I looked out the window as we drove along, the empty streets lit by the light of the moon, and drummed anxiously on the center console, biting my lip absentmindedly.
"Will you relax?" Andrew laughed.
"Will you drive a little faster?"
"Oh, sure," he agreed sarcastically. "Let me speed through town on a Friday night with alcohol in my system. Great idea."
"I just want to get there," I mumbled.
He reached over the center console and placed his hand on my knee and I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye. As much as I appreciated the support, all I wanted was for him to step on the gas and get to the store.
"What if she's not even there, Mila?" he questioned. "And what if she is? What are you going to say to her?"
"I haven't thought about it. I didn't think I'd get this far," I admitted.
"Do you...really like her?"
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Maybe that's why I want to see her so badly again. So I'll know. Not that you care."
"Look, I care, but you said yourself that she's no good for you," he reminded me. "Lauren Jauregui is not like us. She looks at us like we're trash, Mila. Why would you be interested in someone like that?"
"Because," I snapped, "I give people a chance before I knock them down, kind of like she did after she found us smoking outside the home she's lived in all her life. Stop being so fucking judgmental."
"You don't know anything about her..."
"Yeah, and neither do you," I countered. "I understand that this is weird for you, but imagine how it is for me. I've never had feelings for anyone. Ever. I'm just as confused as you are, so stop making it about yourself and think about how I'm going insane wondering if I should ever even talk to her again or not."
He removed his hand from my leg and placed it back on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead as we pulled into the parking lot.
"I'm sorry, okay?" he promised me. "I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I don't need you to protect me."
"Which is another reason this is all so weird to me," he laughed. "I've been like your brother your entire life, and all of a sudden you're falling in love and...feeling things, and I don't want to leave for college this fall knowing that you could get hurt. I'm just looking out for you."
"I appreciate it, Andrew, but you don't need to worry about me," I assured him. "I can take care of myself."
He nodded and put the car in park, pulling the keys out of the ignition and shoving them in his pocket. The second my seatbelt was off and the door was open my feet were on the ground. I shuffled inside the convenience store, ducking behind one of the shelves and peering over the top to try and locate Lauren. Andrew followed and I pulled him next to me.
"Is she here?" he whispered.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "If she is, I can't see her."
"Let's just get the booze and get out of here," he groaned, stepping around the corner and walking towards the cooler.
I followed, my eyes darting down every aisle as we passed, but unfortunately, I couldn't spot Lauren. Andrew passed me a few cases of beer and grabbed some for himself and we headed for the counter. I pulled out my ID and the cashier studied me closely, but she either didn't care that I looked entirely too young to be twenty-one, or she was totally convinced. I tapped my foot impatiently as she rang us up and picked up the cases the second she was finished, turning to head for the door and running smack into the customer behind me as she stepped forward.
"Sorry," she smirked, those green eyes finding me the second I regained my composure.