Homer, Goner 《Camren》

I.

"Alright, team. Down!" Lauren yells into the autumn heat. "We're going to do fifty scissors!"

There's a series of groans as the softball team drop onto their backs one-by-one.

"Do you want to make it a hundred?!" Lauren bellows. There's no time for weakness now. They have to be in top condition for their first game, which is coming up in three weeks. Three weeks! That's basically tomorrow.

"No, ma'am!" The team shouts in unison.

"Good," Lauren says loudly as she too lies onto her back. "Now let's begin!"

The whole team counts out loud, slow and steady and not unlike a metronome at snail speed. Lauren keeps an eagle eye on her team to make sure that none of them are taking shortcuts on this abdominal exercise.

They're heading into the forties when Lauren calls out on one of the freshmen for skipping one of the repetitions.

It's then that a soccer ball rolls over to the middle of the softball field. Its round, painted in that classic black and white color. The ball looks mildly threatening as it approaches one of Lauren's players in slow motion, as if it was a bomb thrown by the soccer team waiting to be detonated.

For fuck's sake, the season just started and this is already happening. Lauren distinctly remembers that it didn't happen until mid-season last year, so what the heck?

"Uh, Captain?" Ally, a first-year and new addition to the team, calls unsurely as she picks up the stray soccer ball.

"Give it to me," Lauren commands as she stands up, so Ally does. "Everyone, you can relax your positions."

The team cries out in relief, surely feeling the burning sensation in their torso and upper thighs. No pain, no gain.

Ball in hand, Lauren begins to walk to where the soccer team is currently practicing, but it seems as if she doesn't need to move much. One of the soccer players, probably the brainless culprit that kicked the ball this direction, is jogging to where Lauren is at. And Lauren isn't salty, but she doesn't step any closer upon noticing this piece of information. Technically it's the soccer player's fault that they're even in this situation.

The player comes closer and closer until her face isn't shaded by the sweltering sun. Lauren snorts because of course. Of course, it's her.

The first thing Lauren notices as Camila jogs to her is her legs. Not that they're great legs in particular, but her shorts are just so... well, short. Though her thighs aren't the most muscular, Lauren could tell that Camila doesn't skip leg day, considering how nicely her quadriceps flex during each stride and how effortless she looks running like that. And for a second, Lauren wonders how breezy it must be for Camila down there, before shaking the thoughts away.

"Hey, Lo," Camila breathes out as soon as she's near enough to stop. She's all bright eyes and easy smiles and Lauren kind of wants to give her pretty face a double slap. Triple slap if she talks too much.

"Students around here usually call me 'Captain'," Lauren responds, trying to assert her dominance from the get-go.

"Ah, you're softball captain this year, eh?" Camila smiles and gives her a look, eyes shining in a playful manner. Lauren can clearly see the beads of sweat making themselves at home on Camila's forehead, and it's kind of hot and gross at the same time. "Apologies, Captain Lo."

Lauren sighs inwardly. She doesn't want to give Camila the satisfaction of knowing how much Camila gets under her skin. "Anyway, did you lose something today, Camila Cabello?"

"That's Captain Camila Cabello," she says smugly, clicking her tongue. It looks like Camila also got the position this year. That would make sense seeing as they're both graduating seniors, last year of college life and shit before they have to start acting like real adults. "And yes, I did. I believe you're holding it in your hand, right there."

Camila points at the ball between Lauren's hand and hips. With a huff, Lauren holds out the ball but doesn't loosen her grip when Camila tries to take it from her.

"Hey, what gives?" The younger girl asks, confused.

"This isn't going to happen a lot like last year, will it?" Lauren swears the wind whips intensely in their general vicinity at that moment. And for a hot second, she feels as if she's starring in an old, Western movie. She can picture it now, a standoff between Camila and herself, eyes locked with what feels like electricity.

A tumbleweed and an eternity must have passed by before one of them finally breaks the silence.

"Hmm, why would you think that?" Camila furrows her brows as she gives the ball a sharp pull. Lauren doesn't miss the fact that Camila doesn't answer her, replying to her question with another question. It's not until Camila is slowly walking backward, hands securely on the ball, staring at Lauren with a shit-eating grin on her face does Lauren get the sudden urge to throw a softball at her.

She doesn't; it's more trouble than it's worth, but Lauren would very much like to hear the satisfying smack that it would make against Camila's pompous, self-righteous, egotistical expression.

"Thanks for the ball."

"Don't mention it," Lauren squints, eyes shifting back and forth between Camila's face and her distractingly pretty collar bones. "Like, literally, do not mention it."

Camila giggles, and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard to Lauren's ears. She decides then to settle this dispute before it even begins. Better to blow the fire out now before it grows bigger.

"Who even kicked the ball so far out that it reached here, anyway? Because I swear to god, the next time it comes I'm going to-

"You're cute when you're trying to be mean."

"Excuse me?" Did Lauren just hear that correctly?

"I said thanks for the ball, Lo," Camila replies as she finally turns around. Lauren rolls her eyes as the soccer captain struts away.

"It's Captain!"

Lauren shakes her fist at her. It's about ten or so steps when Lauren realizes that she didn't end up scolding Camila or blowing out the fire or whatever she said she would do earlier. Curse her tendency to be distracted by cute, slick, unfairly pretty girls. Lauren sighs heavily and doesn't pursue her, choosing instead to settle matters the next time it happens again. Camila's too far now anyway.

It's about eight more steps when Camila looks back, but Lauren doesn't see it because she's already facing her team.

"Now, where were we?"

"You were about to let us out of practice early, Captain."

A chorus of snickers erupt. Lauren narrows her eyes at the second-year who she's positive is the only person with the gall to say that type of answer.

"Twenty-five crunches, Dinah." The younger girl sighs.

"Yes, ma'am."

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