FORGET YOU LAUREN

CHAPTER 1

At that time: 7 and a half years
POV
I could swear that my new neighbour would be a boy...
That's what my parents told me when the house on our street was finally sold. They said, "Oh, they look like such a nice family. They even have a child for you to meet. How cool will that be?"
It would have been very good, because every family on our street was full of stupid girls. None of these girls liked me, and I didn't like any of them either.
So when my dad came into my room today and told me to dress to meet the neighbours, I was shocked when he picked up my toys and returned them to my bedside table.
"I don't think so," he said. "Camila probably won't want to see this."
"Camila? Who is Camila?" I asked.
"Your new neighbour on the street". He smiled so easily, as if those five words ruined no hope that I would finally have a friend in this neighbourhood. It was bad enough to live in the suburbs and take half an hour to get to a decent place like the movie theatre and the skate park. But now, the last house on our block housed the worst thing on the planet. A girl. Again.
Moaning, I put headphones and a CD player in my backpack - ready to listen to nothing as soon as my parents talked about boring things. I went down the stairs and got my mom's usual "Meet the New Neighbours" cake from the counter. I followed her and my father through the front door and sidewalk - rolling my eyes to the Cramer twins who were playing in the front yard.
"Hello, Lord and Mrs. Jauregui!" They waved. "Hello, Lauren!"
"Don't wave to me," I said.
"Lauren..." My mother narrowed her eyes at me. "Be nice".
"Hello, Cindy. Hello, Joan." I forced myself to smile. The second my mother turned her back, they raised their middle fingers at me. Fortunately I returned the favour.
Disgusting.
When we arrived at the new neighbours' house, a blonde woman and her husband left and smiled at us.
"Wow! I wasn't expecting you to really make us a cake!" The woman looked surprised. "It's been a long time since I've been home-made."
She bought it in the store. It is not made at home.
As they led us inside, I hoped that the usual conversation with the new neighbours would not last as long as it used to. They always talked about the same thing with all the new families. Are the schools here as good as they say? What do kids do around here for fun? How cute would it be if our daughters became friends?
"Well, look at you!" The woman leaned over to be my size. "I waved to you the other day when you were playing in your backyard, but I don't think you saw me. I'm Mrs. Cabello. What is your name?"
"Lauren Jauregui," I said.
"Well, Lauren Jauregui, I have a daughter named Camila Cabello, who seems to be about your age. Let me guess. You're seven years old, right?"
"Seven and a half".
"She says the same thing." She laughed and pointed at their stairs. "Why don't you introduce yourself to her while I serve her parents a glass of wine? It's the first room on the left."
"No, it's fine." I shrugged. "I don't want to meet another girl. I've known a lot of these."
"Lauren Jauregui". My mother warned me softly. "Go say hello to Camila now."
I rolled my eyes and took a while climbing the stairs, stopping when I saw the posters in the hallway. They were all superheroes and artists. Superheroes and artists I like.
Maybe she had a brother after all.
I knocked on Spider-Man who covered the bedroom door and a girl with crooked fringe opened it.
"My mom said you were cute." She crossed her arms. "She lied".
"Like you can talk." I made fun of it. "You look like a Raggedy-Ann doll, and your hair looks like you cut it yourself. With a broken razor."
"I cut it myself." She narrowed her eyes at me. "And I used a razor."
I looked at her, and she looked back at me.
I thought I'd drop some of her stuff or push her to the ground to show her who was driving this block, but the huge Jurassic Park poster on her wall caught my attention. Underneath, on the dresser, she had a collection of Star Wars action figures and a huge pile of comic books.
"Do you have an older brother?" I forgot why I was mad at her. "Is that why you have all these things?"
"No, these are all my things." She fell on the bed. "All the girls in my old school thought I was weird, but I don't care. Superheroes beat Barbie any day. Do you have a sister?"
"No. I'm an only child."
"Me too". She looked at me and then breathed. "Is this a good neighbourhood?"
"It's boring," I said, approaching the second set of comic books. "You will have no problem making friends. All families on this block and the next have daughters."
"I noticed". She moaned. "I met some twins yesterday, and they invited me to put on dolls and have tea this weekend."
"See? You'll be the best friend of the Cramer twins before you know it."
"I hate playing dress up dolls." She twisted her face. "I also hate tea. I'm going to pretend I'm sick."
I smile. Maybe Camila wasn't so bad after all. Well, she was still a girl, but maybe she was a nice girl. For now.
"It was nice to meet you, Camila." I went to the door once I heard my mother call my name.
"Wait". She pointed to my headphones. "What are you listening to?"
"Good music, trust me, I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about it."
"Test me". She threw me a CD box, so I pulled my CD keeper out of my backpack and threw it to her. I pervade through all of her covers and felt my eyes widen as I read the names of each artist. With the exception of a few terrible pop bands, she listens to almost every artist I listen to.
"I don't think your taste is so bad." She returned my CDs and I returned hers.
"And you know, not even yours. Do your parents allow you to use the internet?"
"Yes and no," I admitted. "My parents always check the computer before and after I use it, so I don't really use it."
"Okay, well..." She took a sheet of paper and scribbled her full name and address. "I prefer to write letters anyway."
"Do you want me to write a letter across the street?"
"Why not?"
"Because you're on the same street," I said, laughing. "I'm always out there. Just come if your parents leave you. Also, by the appearance of things on the blackboard, it seems that you can barely spell it out. 'Forget' is spelled with an 'and', not an 'i'. It would be clearly unfair for me to expect you to write a decent letter if you don't get a simple word like that."
"Ugh". She rolled her eyes. "OK, it's okay."
"Great". I went down the hall, but before I could set foot on the first step, I felt her pressing her hands on my back. I felt her pushing me forward and before I knew it, I was going down the stairs. Difficult.
What...
I held a scream when I reached the end and looked at the steps for an explanation, but all she did was cross her arms.
"I changed my mind," she said. "I don't like you and I don't want to be your friend. Also, the word 'forget' is spelled exactly as I spelled it, so you may need to check your eyes to learn to read. Take this, Lauren."
"I don't want to be your friend either." I looked at her when I got up, knowing I should never trust a stupid girl. "Forget me, Camila".