FORGET YOU LAUREN

CHAPTER 2

SBU: St. Bonaventure University
Track 1: This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things (4:00)
Lauren POV
These days
I still hate Camila Cabello...
I examined the most recent letter she sent me from the "Semester at Sea" program, and I still haven't been able to write it back. It's been three months since our last exchange, and my blood was boiling like I was reading her words for the first time.
Dear Lauren,
I'm sure your girlfriend is cheating on you. Like, all the signs are there, and they were there eight letters ago. As a person who honestly loves to see her unhappy, I can't say that it makes me happy. (Just because I don't like infidels. However, if you were upset about anything else, I would be laughing now).
Maybe she's not impressed with all those compliments you like to throw in my face all the time: The fact that you're popular in high school for three years in a row (I still believe you filled the polls, and it was high school. Time to let this shit go). The fact that you drive a classic blue convertible (What the hell does this have to do with something? As always?). And the fact that you're supposed to be "doing shit on the SBU campus". (I've been on this ship for three years, and none of the students who study single semesters have any idea who you are when I ask. Not one).
Thanks for the unwanted advice on my boyfriend, but since I know what it takes to make a relationship work, I don't need that.
Forget me,
Camila.
PS - Maybe you're not as good at sex as you thought? (That's probably it. I can send you some "How-to" books on this subject if you want. Let me know!).
I reread her letter one last time, putting it in my glove compartment. Then I looked at my girlfriend's windows for the second hour in a row, watching her grind against one of my closest friends.

I should be surprising her with a "four month anniversary" gift now that she gave not so subtle tips all week, but after seeing her being eaten by someone else, I knew I would be returning everything to the store the second I broke up with her. Today.
I can't believe Camila was right about this shit.
Not wanting to wait for them to finish, I got out of my car and walked to the front door. I used the key she gave me months ago, the one that has written "Lauren and Lucy forever", and I entered the living room.
"Ohhhh God!" She moaned. "Oh God, yes!"
"Yes?" My friend, Brody, slapped her ass. "Is that what you like?"
"Yes, she loves that position," I said, and he immediately stopped. Her eyes widened and all the colour left Lucy's face.
He left her, moving away quickly. Then he looked at me in shock for a few seconds before picking up his jeans and running to the bathroom.
Lucy was in front of me, completely naked and red. Keeping her eyes on mine, she went to the couch.
She bit her lip, as if she were looking for the right thing to say.
"Hi, Lauren," she said, finally. "I know this sounds really bad, but I can explain it."
I didn't say anything, and she took her clothes.
"Can you stop looking at me like that first?" She pulled her bra over her head. "Please?"
I didn't move. I watched it as she struggled to put on the rest of her clothes. Blue jeans. Faded shirt. My high school hoodie.
"It's like you're a zombie or something now," she said. "You haven't said a word to me since you came in. At least, let me know what you're thinking so I can know where to start."
Brody came out of the bathroom and looked between us, picking up his jacket and walking to me. "We'll still be fine after that, right?" He reached out for a handshake, and took everything from me not to knock him down and kick his ass.
"So we're not well?" he asked. "I mean, don't tell me you're willing to throw years of our friendship down the drain for something like that."
"It depends," I finally said. "By 'something like that', you mean the fact that I was on the sidewalk and watched you fuck my girlfriend for almost two hours?"
He paled and Lucy adjusted her blouse for the umpteenth time.
"I know this sounds bad," he said, lowering his voice. "But friends before women, man. She was the one who called me here. I said no, but she insisted and then said..."
"Get out of my way." I looked at him. "Now".
He seemed to mean more, but he didn't. He looked over his shoulder at Lucy for a few seconds before leaving us alone. The moment the door closed, Lucy walked across the floor.
"I'm sorry, love," she said, giving me her worst poker face. "It was a stupid thing to do, and if I could go back, I would."
"Which part?" I hit my fingers on the counter. "There is more than one thing wrong in this situation."
"Oh, come on, Lauren!" she said, approaching. "It was a big mistake, and if I knew you're going back to town today..."
"Would you have done that yesterday?"
"No". She sighed. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't know how else you want me to explain this. I was alone and wanted sex, and since you haven't been in town in a while, I think I got carried away."
"I was away for two days. Two days."
"Well, since what we have is real, I'm sure we can get over it. I still have feelings for you and I know you have feelings for me too." Her mouth was moving a mile a minute, and I couldn't help but turn off her voice and stare at her.
Brunette and brown-eyed, Lucy was one of the most attractive girls on campus, and she knew it. She couldn't help but flirt with any guy in her lightning, and although I long accepted it as one of her worst flaws, sleeping with my close friend (well, ex-friend) was the ultimatum to our end.
I mentally backtracked the last few months of our tattered relationship - skipping all the new tears and rags, all their false promises and lies.
"Oh love, Brody and I are going to study together." "No, don't worry, Brody can take me home." "Oh, Babe. That's what your friend Brody is for."
"I think we can get over it with a little communication." She was still talking. "This doesn't have to be our end."
"This is the end of us." I pulled the key to her apartment and put it down. There were a few things of mine in her room, but I was sincerely willing to be without them if that meant I didn't have to listen to her anymore.
I looked at her one last time, wanting to say some final words for the outcome, since "Fuck you" was too good for her, but I finished. I turned around and left, going down the steps of his apartment.
"Is that it?" She followed me, screaming. "Won't you give me a chance to explain?"
I slipped my eyelids over my eyes and kept walking.
"I'm not the only person who made a mistake in this relationship, Lauren!" She walked faster, stopping in front of my vintage blue convertible. "I've seen the way you look at other girls sometimes, and I don't say a word."
I slipped behind the wheel and started the engine.
"Oh, and let's not forget the fact that you didn't write me a birthday card this year."
"Are you blaming me now?" I looked at her. "Are you honestly trying to compare me because I didn't write your birthday card with you fucking someone behind my back?"
"No, but..." She sighed. "You neglected me sometimes."
I looked at the clock on my dashboard. I was having this conversation for two minutes, and then I was seeing myself leaving her garage and never coming back.
"I know you work and everything, but somehow you always find time to go out with your friend Emily all the time."
"Emily was my study partner, and I always invited her to come with us."
"Well..." She bit her lip, looking for more excuses, more ways to cling to something that has happened for a long time. "You never kissed me in public to show people that we were together. And you always found time to write a letter to a certain person every week, and you never wrote one for me."
"Bitch, Lucy". I rolled my eyes. "If the person you're trying to talk to is my old neighbour Camila Cabello - whom I've said several times that I honestly can't stand it, I haven't written her in three months. We're only dating four."
"Lauren, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to rebuild your confidence?"
"Yes, you can go back to the grass."
"All right..." She stepped on the grass and smiled. "Is that it?"
I hit my car in reverse without responding to it, hitting my fist against the steering wheel as I reached the back road. I suspected something was wrong with her months ago, and I knew it wasn't the first time she cheated on me. I also knew I would have to drink tonight and make sure it was a distant memory as soon as possible.
Approaching the red light, I picked up my phone number and checked the address of my new apartment. Since this year was my first year living off campus, I was anxious not to have to deal with drunk first year students, endless dorm parties and well, problems. I had two warnings from campus police after organising several evening parties in the past, and I knew they would not be so tolerant of my next attack.
I opened the glove compartment to find the entrance card number of the house, and a series of purple envelopes and letters fell to the ground.
Wow, Camila.
I took them and saved them again.
Entering my new subdivision, I went through all the white houses - looking for the only one in blue. I tightened the brakes once I saw the pile of burnt wood and metal in the place where my house should be.
I must be on the wrong street...
Refusing to believe this was a reality, I blinked a few times. Then I went around the block, but when I got back, 3376 Sun Swept Lane was still the same.
Burned to the ground.
What the hell?
I turned off the engine and got out of the car.
There was yellow ribbon where my fireplace should be, and a red balloon with a smiling face was staring at me from where the kitchen counter should be. There was also a charred "Welcome Home" sign next to the mailbox.
"It's about time you showed up!" My randomly chosen roommate for the year, Greg, hit me on the shoulder from behind. "I've been waiting for you for hours."
"What happened to our house, Greg?"
"It looks like it burned."
"I can see that." I crossed my arms. "What the hell happened?"
"You have to promise you won't get mad first."
"No, you need to tell me what happened first."
"I need the promise," he said, smiling. "I've heard of what happens when you get angry. People tend to break their jaw."
"What? You just made up this shit."
"But is it true?"
I gave him an empty look.
"Okay, okay." He shrugged. "Well, while you were away, I threw a little opening party with a fire. When we ran out of alcohol, we took the party a few blocks to a football player's apartment, and I may have forgotten to put out all the embers before leaving. At least I'm alive and well, right? I think that's all that really matters in this unfortunate situation."
I looked at him with total disbelief. The main reason I chose Greg to be my roommate was because he was not my close friend. He was a fellow honorer who swore he only wanted a break from campus life like I did, and swore he was responsible.
"I assume our three thousand dollar deposit falls down the drain?" I asked.
"That's right". He laughed. "We're never getting this shit back, and I don't think we're getting a reference."
"So should we live in our cars while we pay insurance for the damage?" I squeezed my jaw.
"No way, my friend."
"You and I are not friends."
"We will be". He smiled. "The owner got quite cold when he discovered the fire. Well, he wasn't necessarily 'happy', and I think he called me an idiot, but the insurance company will cover everything on his side."
"So where does that leave us?"
"Well, I asked if he could rent us the next house, but he said no. So I spent the house hunt yesterday and found a new place ten times better than that."
I refuse to believe that. All the best homes on campus are already rented for the semester, and our house was a significant upgrade before he burned it.
"All right," I said. "Show me where this new place is."
I slid behind the wheel again and followed him down a winding road dotted with huge houses overlooking the beach. Each was four times the size of our burned house, and each looked like it wasn't intended for college students.
Is this a rooftop pool?
He stopped at the driveway of the last house on the block - a huge white beach house with light gray shutters, and I was very much hoping that this place belonged to someone in his well connected family.
"You have to see the inside of this thing!" Greg got out of the car and walked to the surrounding balcony. He opened the door and I knew, from the moment I walked in, that we could never afford it.
There is no way.
"Four bedrooms, four bathrooms and a hot tub in the back." He walked through the kitchen. "Come furnished too!"
"Does your father own this place?"
"Ha! No. He would only let me stay at his beach house if I agreed to go to the same university he attended." He opened the guest room door. "By the way, please don't vote for him in the next mayoral election. I'm voting for your opponent."
I wanted to laugh, but I was still upset with him. "How much is this place?"
"The beach is outside our back door and the deck wraps around the whole house," he said. "Oh, and check this out."
He took a remote control and the blinds in the room went up, revealing a beautiful view of the ocean. Seconds later, the fireplace in the room came to life.
"How much is this place, Greg?"
"You need to see the basement! There are two pool tables and a pool bar. And let's not forget the pool with temperature control on the roof - like, on the roof!"
"Greg". I blocked his way. "How much is this place?"
"Seven hundred and fifty a month".
"Really? Is that it?"
"Well, it's seven hundred and fifty per person, if it's just you and me. Oh, and that doesn't include any of the bills that are like four hundred easy dollars, but it does include the view. It goes to five hundred a month if we have a third person. It will be even less with four, but I know you really didn't want to do four roommates for last year."
I barely want to make a roommate... "Please tell me this is a joke in great bad taste."
"It's this or the Wolf Street condominiums. I mean, these places in Wolf only cost two hundred and fifty dollars per person, but availability is scarce, so we would probably have to share a studio right now." He looked around. "You said you wanted to live somewhere super quiet."
"What we had before was super quiet."
"But there wasn't a hot tub." He tightened the remote control again, and the deck doors opened, revealing a huge steaming bath. "You can't say I didn't try..."
"I can say a lot of things to you right now, but something tells me it doesn't matter."
"not really".
He smiled. "Mainly because I've already signed the contract... Oh, and um. I also forged your name. You were out of town and since homelessness was not an attractive option, I had to make an executive decision for both of us."
What the fuck? "So we're definitely going to need a roommate." I clenched my teeth and went to the fridge, shaking my head with the note 'I'm sorry, man' that he put in front of a six-beer package. "Preference one by the end of the week. Is that, unless you already covered the first month of rent?"
"Okay, right". He laughed. "The new owner took one last look at my last name and gave me the benefit of the doubt because of my father. We have until the end of the week."
"Have you ever listed an ad somewhere?"
"I'm ten steps ahead of you." He smiled and showed me a copy of the last student newspaper. "People have already emailed me about the space, and some are arriving on Thursday. Well, unless you want to ask your girlfriend."
"Ex-girlfriend. Even if she wasn't, I'd rather live with a fucking stranger."
"Wait, ex?" He raised his eyebrow. "Weren't you together last week?"
"We were before she cheated on me." I opened a beer and drank. "Would you like to invite some people to have a drink to help me forget about it?"
"Definitely". He smiled, picking up the phone. "You know, if you want me to put another fire in the yard, so I can show you that I know how to put out one..."
"No more bonfires while you live with me, Greg. Never again."
"Yes, that's..." He cleared his throat. "That's probably a good thing. For now, at least. Sorry for your girl cheating on you, by the way. I'm sure you didn't see that happen."
"I didn't really see it." I said, thinking about how Camila somehow saw it coming miles away (literally) in her smart letter. "I'll be right back."
I went outside where my car was and opened my glove compartment. I took the agenda from the port of Camila and a blank sheet of paper.
I finally knew how I would reply to your last letter.