FORGET YOU LAUREN

CHAPTER 5

Track 4: Bad Blood (3:22)
Lauren POV
WE ARE OFFICIALLY WOUND...
"So what do you think of the place?" Greg coughed while walking with our last potential roommate to the deck.
I leaned back in our hot tub and waited for the guy to respond. He was so high that I smelled marijuana in him the second he entered our house, and he couldn't get through a single sentence without laughing. Unfortunately, he was the best person we've ever known.
"It's amazing." He ducked and dipped his hands in the hot tub, laughing. "Really amazing. There's plenty of room for me to have my hallways here for meetings."
"Corridors?" Greg asked, coughing again. "Are you on the racing team?"
"Ha!". The guy laughed. "It's not that kind of runner. Runner as runner. Like, people who take care of the delivery of my products."
"So, do you sell things to the racing team?"
"He's talking about drugs, Greg." I shook my head. "He's a goddamn drug dealer."
"But I don't use hard drugs," the guy said. "I'm strictly a guy with marijuana, pills and flunitrazepam. None of the heavy stuff. I am always looking for people to join my team if any of you are interested. I even have a competitive health plan."
I rolled my eyes, but Greg kept his composure. The second he mentioned the rent amount, I was confident that the guy would leave here, just like everyone else.
"So the rent is five hundred dollars each," Greg said. "And we have to split the accounts equally. Well, the water bill anyway. My father will cover all the others for us."
"Cool". He nodded. "This seems more than achievable. I can pay a whole year in advance."
"Um. Well, before we get to that point..." Greg scratched his head. "You smoked two cigarettes and came up with one during the house tour, and it only took me twenty minutes to show you everything. So...".
"So what?" The guy raised his eyebrow.
"So if we vote for you to move, can you limit your smoking to maybe three to four puffs a day? None of us smoke, so it throws away the whole aura of the house, if you do."
"No, I need my marijuana and my smoke," said the guy, crossing his arms. "They're part of me, and if I'm paying five hundred dollars a month in shared rent, I can do whatever I want."
He's right...
The guy pointed to the beach. "Are there cameras in the house that you can see around?"
"Not that we know," Greg said. "Why?"
"Good". He looked at the water. "Just making sure I have a safe place to discipline my runners if it's time for that. You two won't be able to sit on this deck if any of this shit happens, okay?"
I glanced at Greg and he raised his hands as a sign of surrender.
"We will contact you after our vote, no matter the outcome." He made a gesture for the guy to follow him.
I watched as Greg took him outside the house, and then reached out over a pile of towels to pick up my phone. There were no new emails from my publication in the Business School newspaper, but there were many text messages from Lisa and Brody. They were repeating the same false excuses, so I deleted them.
"It's okay," Greg said, coming back and walking around the deck. "So it's between the drug dealer, the guy who does scary magic tricks with cockroaches and mice, and the guy who can only pay us half the rent, but says he goes to my Sociology class and guarantees me a B less... I don't know about you, but I'm inclined to number three."
"Shut up, Greg," I said. "Has anyone ever contacted you in the Craigslist ad?"
"Yes. There was a lot of interest in Craigslist's announcement."
"Okay, so why haven't you let any of these people see the house yet?"
"Because I accidentally listed it in the section of males looking for sex, so I don't think we should answer any of them for a while. Unless it's something you're interested in doing in your own time."
I shook my head. I refused to believe that he was a student of honour.
"We have another potential roommate today, but since she's twenty minutes late, I don't know if we should keep her in contention or not."
"She? Like a roommate?"
"Yes". He shrugged. "Unless you have a list of people interested in Business School, I think we have to open it to women right now."
"All right. Just make sure it's not my ex or someone who's friends with her. She's a non-automatic and her ex-girlfriend is also a no, since you told me some of the things she did."
"Even if she has money?" he asked. "And I mean, my ex only started my car once. If she hadn't done that, I wouldn't know it was time to buy a new car. She technically did me a favour."
I gave him an empty look.
"Okay, okay. No ex-girlfriends. What do you think of officially opening things up to a non-college student, then?"
The bell rang before I could answer it, it came off the deck.
I opened my calculator app and tried to figure out how many overtime I need to work this month if we can't get a roommate. How many hours would I suggest Greg work so well, since it was he who got us into this unfortunate situation.
"Oh, wow!" said a sweet voice inside. "This place is amazing. The image didn't do everything justice."
I didn't bother to look up.
Ten overtime hours a week must cover us for at least three months.
"Please enter our humble abode and be comfortable as you would like." Greg's voice looked dizzy as hell. "Have you been to SBU this whole time?"
"Yes". She laughed. "I've been getting a lot of that question this week."
"I'm sure you have it." He cleared his throat. "How come I've never seen you around here? I mean, don't get it wrong, but I would definitely remember to see you around here."
"I did the semester at sea for three years." She paused. "I was in the full enrollment program, but decided not to renew for the final year."
I immediately stopped, hoping that the sweet voice would not belong to whom I thought.
"Well, I'm glad you're deciding to join us on the real campus," he said. "Let me introduce you to my roommate. I'm Greg Charleston, by the way. What was your name again?"
"Camila. Camila Cabello".
Jesus Christ...
I sat down and slowly turned around in the hot tub, ready to tell her "no hells", but I found myself looking at a woman who looked nothing like the Camila Cabello I remembered. She wasn't even close.
Gone are his huge sunglasses that covered half his face and ruined all the yearbook photos with his look. In place of the curly and wild hair that always seemed like she liked to spend a lot of time sticking her fingers in the electric sockets, there were elegant curls that fell on her breasts. She even tamed the thick brown caterpillars she once called her eyebrow.
I tilted my head to the side in total disbelief, unable to stop looking.
What the hell?
Her brown eyes shone when she spoke to Greg and I noticed honey-colored reflections in her hair. As I looked at her from top to bottom, I couldn't believe I wasn't wearing her "every day of school" outfit. What she boasted of using in all her recent letters to me.
"All I wore on that ship were loose grey sweatpants and a casual T-shirt."
There was nothing baggy or casual about her current outfit. She was dressed in a light blue skirt that embraced curves that I had never noticed and exposed long, toned legs that she used to keep curled under tons of layers. Her sleeveless white and grey blouse was transparent, revealing a bright red and pink bra.
I didn't want to admit it, but this Camila Cabello was fucking beautiful.
There was no denying it.
"This is my roommate," Greg said when they finally got on deck. "We met a few months ago, but..."
"Lauren?" Camila's eyes found mine and she took a step back as if she had seen a ghost.
"Oh". Greg smiled. "So, do you know each other?"
"No," we said in unison, narrowing our eyes to each other as if we had just met for the first time, once again.
"Ha! Okay, great!" He clapped his hands. "Camila, let me do the official tour." He accompanied her to the house, and I knew my vote for her to live here would still be a no.
A definitive "hell, no".
Dealing with the smart mouth and hot head by traditional mail was one thing. Seeing her in person, even if she was now stunning as hell, wouldn't work for me.
In fact, despite the letters we have constantly sent in recent years, there has always been palpable tension and a sense of repulsion between us, and I could never understand where it came from. I just knew that this was the main reason we sometimes took breaks while sending letters. When we get upset with each other by a written revelation that we didn't want to read, or when we deal with a girlfriend or a boyfriend who didn't understand our relationship as "enemies with understanding".
"You will have access to the pool, hot tub and all the other crazy things we have..." Greg's voice stopped when he took her to the other side of the house.
I got out of the hot tub and dried myself, getting a beer inside. I needed to make sure Camila got my face-to-face response.
"Now the bad news," Greg said, walking with Camila to the living room. "The rent is five hundred dollars a month each, and this tour is just a formality. We still have to vote for who we want for our third roommate, since Lauren prefers a man."
"Yes, I prefer that," I said.
She ignored me. "What about utilities? How many are these?"
"The only thing we have to share is the water bill. Everyone else is arched."
"Oh. Well, I'm definitely interested in being considered - gender aside. Regardless of the vote, I would appreciate it if I could sleep on your couch for a few nights. I can also pay for it."
"There is a shelter for homeless people," I offered.
Greg glanced at me. "Of course, you can sleep on our couch for a few days, Camila. Do you have any other questions about the house?"
"Not that I can think of." She avoided looking at me while biting her lip. "Can I call someone private to see if I can pay that amount?"
"Absolutely". He gestured for her to go to the deck and waited until she was out of reach of her voice. "Holy shit. She's sexy as hell, Lauren." He looked at her from top to bottom as she walked across the deck. "Please don't tell me she's an ex of yours."
"I would never date Camila."
"Well, great, then." He was still looking at her, looking like he was seconds away from drooling. "She officially has my vote."
"Then we will need a tiebreaker." I crossed my arms. "I vote for the drug dealer".
"What?"
"I'd rather deal with him and his runners than with Camila."
"Wait, wait. I'm confused." He hit his lips. "I thought you two knew each other. I thought you were friends."
"We were never friends," I said. "We have a story".
"Does this story include her paying all your bills on time?"
"It's complicated".
"It's not really." He looked at me. "We need a third roommate to help us pay the bills by the end of this week. Since she is the most normal person we have interviewed so far, and you can guarantee that she is not a psychopath, what is the problem?"
"It's a long story."
"Give me CliffsNotes".
"I hated her since I was seven and a half, and we just don't get along. We can be cordial for a few minutes here or there, hell, sometimes we can be cordial for a few hours at a time, but we always end up arguing or fighting."
"Well, seeing that you two are grown up, I think you can get over your petty childhood," he said. "I mean, there's no way you two hate each other when you were kids, right?"
"Okay". I drank my beer. "We despise each other."