"So I'm assuming I'll have to give Camila rides to and from school," Lauren sighs, flopping her feet as she walks into the kitchen. Mondays meant early mornings and a calorie filled breakfast that would surely result in nap later in math class.
"You're off the hook, Camila won't be attending school for a while," the Sheriff pours himself a cup of coffee and Lauren stops amidst her current food search.
"Why? Because she'd feel too monachopsis?" Lauren asks. If that was the case she'd be sure to make her feel right at home; show her to her classes, sit in the desk next to her, even have Dinah force a friendship.
"Where's the English button?" Mr. Jauregui snaps his fingers and Lauren rolls her eyes.
"It is English. Monachopsis: the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place," she explains.
"Well, in that case I'm sure she would feel very monachopsis."
"Leave the extensive vocabulary to me," she snatches two pop tarts from the pantry, stuffing a package secretly in her nap sack before ripping the other one open. There were still a lot of questions she wanted to ask. What would she do all day? Was she ever going to school? But all that she could actually ask was, "She'll be okay?"
Mr. Jauregui seemed surprised by what his daughter had asked, "I'm sure she will. Get to school!"
The two exchange smiles before Lauren heads out the door with her keys dangling from her finger. The sun was bright and the air was warm making the girl pray that summer would come soon because it was nearing the end of April and road trips with her friends had already been laid out. She could already picture Dinah and Normani arguing over who had shotgun in the jeep as they made their way down to the bay for a week or two.
A yawn escapes the girl as she fiddles with the combination on her locker, every now and then looking from the corner of her eye down the hall. She jumps as a fist slams into the locker next to hers, letting out a breath of relief upon seeing it was only Normani.
"Where's what's-her-face?" her hair was a mess, was all Lauren could think.
"Camila's at home. And that's solecism," Lauren announces.
"Dictionary."
"Solecism: a grammatical mistake, a minor blunder in speech. 'What's-her-face' is technically grammatically incorrect."
Normani lets out a small "oh" with a slight nod of her head before opening her locker two away from Lauren's. And this was the joy of Monday's. They'd gather their stuff for class, take a couple laps around the school until the first bell rang and they'd walk-N-talk to Chemistry, more often than not the topic revolving around the newest Megan Fox movie because "her boobs were definitely too big for that top". Normani gawks as they enter the room, Lauren chuckles at her friends over exaggeration.
"Heard you got your own personal sex slave," Vero Iglesias gets in Lauren's face causing Lauren to jump as she takes the desk next to her. Lauren sighs, exchanging a glance with Normani. Neither of them were particularly fond of Vero Iglesias (and yes, they did call the girl by both names, all day everyday, so it's only right if we do too). The three had been the best of friends. That was until Vero was the first to get a date, first to throw a party, first to lose her virginity and all of a sudden, annual Thursday game night at Normani's was no longer at the top of her priorities list. Who could blame her though? Lauren would much rather bang a girl than sit in front of an Xbox for two hours.
"She's not my sex slave," Lauren lowers her voice, checking her surroundings just in case anyone actually heard her. They hadn't.
Vero Iglesias shrugs, "Whatever you wanna call it. Just know that I want a piece of that."
Lauren squints her eyes furrows her eyebrows, "Uh, you can't 'have a piece of that' because she's not a sex slave. She's not an anything!" The tardy bell rang and the teacher began his lesson but that didn't stop the flat chested girl.
"So, you say there's a girl living in your house completely unrelated to you, and you aren't tapping that?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying. Glad you finally picked up," Lauren's eyes never leave the board.
A sigh escapes her as she tucks the cap of her pen between her teeth and chews on the end. Peremptory: synonym for Vero Iglesias. The teacher was droning on, a paper was repeatedly being tossed between students and just when she thought it had ended, it had only started.
"Does the bitch have a name?"
Lauren turns to Vero Iglesias in anger, "Could you shut up? 'Cause it's been five minutes and I've already run out of time for your bullshit."
"Jauregui! Office," the teacher commands, "Now."
Lauren sighs, internally groaning as she snatches up her bag and looks at a snickering Normani while walking out of class. It was something she very seldom did but the fact that she did it sticking up for Camila made her curious. There was nothing particularly special about her, not to mention the fact they'd never had a conversation over three words. Just as Lauren rounded the corner, she bumps into a smaller frame and paper flutters to the ground as she begins to apologize.
"Fancy meeting you here," the angelic voice fills her ears and she looks up to see none other than Lucy Vives. "Hi, Lauren," she beams with confidence as they both sink to the ground to gather her things.
"So does this count as another 'friend-date'?" she laughs and Lucy follows.
"You're funny."
"Cute and funny. I'll keep that in mind," she chuckles causing her to laugh again. This was definitely going smoother than last time. The two stood, Lauren handed her back her stack of paper and she accepts it back with a grin and thanks her.
"Where you off to?" she asks.
"Huh?"
"Well you're not in class I just assumed you were going somewhere that wasn't class."
Lauren nods, shoving her hands in her class, "I may or may not have said a curse word in the peremptory Vero Iglesias' direction." They begin to walk away from the office, towards wherever the hell Lucy had been going in the first place.
"Peremptory?" she questions the word.
"Oh, it's a synonym for jackass," she explains briefly.
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[ edited on june 5, 2019 ]