Homer, Goner 《Camren》

III.

There's really something to be said about a day being ruined. Lauren would like to start off with the fact that she likes Thursdays the most because it's her least busy day. She has time to sleep in, seeing as her one and only class starts at noon rather than the usual early morning.

Not only that, she has time to eat a nice lunch before resting and going to the field to run softball practice. The sun is out, and there are some clouds floating by it to offer some cool shade. And the sky is beautiful, a clear blue that reminds Lauren of the Caribbean. Even the wind is forgiving today, providing some healthy breeze that would surely be helpful for softball practice.

And so she tells herself that not much could bring her mood down today. She's already guessing that, similar to the previous days, the soccer team will find some fun in kicking the ball their way again. She will refuse to be bothered this time though, and instead confront the soccer team's ace and captain, Camila Cabello, that this type of behavior is totally untoward. That type of teasing should have been forgotten in the fifth grade where cooties still existed and pigtails were unreasonably pulled.

As expected, they're doing lunges when, like the days before, a classic black and white soccer ball bounces to the softball field. Lauren tries her best to keep her calm. Being calm and collected is the best way to handle tension, and she must be on her A-game here since today is the day that she's going to put a stop to this.

Lauren scoops up the ball and waits at The Spot.

Funny how even after putting a good effort into keeping cool, a running Camila Cabello could ruin her whole concentration. She doesn't even know what it is about Camila that gets her so irrational. Perhaps it's the way she looks so unfazed while effortlessly making her way to Lauren, so much so that she seems almost enthusiastic at their upcoming encounter. Maybe it's the fact that her entire being is emitting an aura of confidence that's a little too close to arrogance, and Lauren would be the first to deny that it makes her look appealing. Or perhaps it's just the way she looks so athletic with her lithe body and agile muscles, and Lauren sort of envies it because it makes her appear robust and attractive at the same time and that's just not fair.

No matter the case, Camila makes her nuts.

Third time's the charm, they said. What charm were they pertaining to, exactly? Lauren doesn't know. But what she does know is that she's sick and tired of the same (probably) goddamn soccer ball rolling onto the same (probably not) goddamn part of the softball field at around the same (most definitely) goddamn hour. Most of all she's sick and tired of seeing the same goddamn smirk directed at her.

Before Camila even says anything, Lauren tosses her the soccer ball.

"This is the last time I'm giving this back, Camila Cabello. I swear to God that-"

Camila drops the ball and brings her hands up in surrender. "Whoa, take it easy. The day is too nice for you to be acting so bitter."

"It's not my fault that your mere presence makes me go absolutely berserk."

"That hurts, Captain." Lauren will admit that being called Captain by Camila helps her cool down. "If it makes you feel better, your presence makes me wild too."

Lauren almost gags at the obvious, and tacky she might add, coquetry. Camila picks up the ball again before making her way closer to the softball player. It's uncomfortably close, resembling the space between two close friends rather than that of two hostile rivals. Even with such little distance, Lauren still kind of wants to punch Camila's pretty face.

"Thanks for the ball," Camila says, smiling.

"What did I say about mentioning it?" Lauren glares with a hand on her hip.

"To not to."

Lauren raises her eyebrow. "And yet you mentioned it."

"You're coming to our game, right?" Camila changes the subject smoothly. "It's next week on Friday."

"Shoot, sorry, we have a game that day too." Lauren lies easily. Camila does a double-take though. Could she perhaps see through Lauren's dishonesty? Impossible, Lauren is a master at lying.

"No, you don't?" Camila says, looking utterly confused. "And how would you know when our games are?"

"My friend Louis is in charge of posting the sports schedule on the bulletin board, and he told me-" Lauren squints at this part. "Err, I mean, I noticed that it was only our game and the basketball game next week."

Camila is scratching the back of her neck, and Lauren feels a little embarrassed at being caught. But she doesn't let that stop her.

"Well, your friend must be mistaken," Lauren says with gritted teeth. "I know our schedule, and we have a game that day."

Camila stares at her blankly.

"If you say so." She shrugs. And even after all that, Camila isn't leaving. Why isn't she leaving? Lauren kind of doesn't want to talk about upcoming games, knowing full well that a few members of her team can probably hear all the lies she's currently feeding Camila.

"Why don't you guys ever play shirtless?" Camila asks out of nowhere, ball between her left hand and hips.

Lauren glances back at her team, surveying them before looking at Camila once more. "I'm not making my team play shirtless if they don't want to. Why does it even matter if we play shirtless or not?"

"Shame," Camila replies softly, almost under his breath, and Lauren hates the way Camila almost never answers her questions. "It would have been nice to see you without a shirt on."

Lauren knows she heard this one correctly for sure. She just cleaned her ears yesterday after coming home, Camila's words about her satellite dish ears collecting dust getting to her.

"You perverted little monkey. Is that all you're after?"

Camila smirks and motions towards the soccer ball. "Anyhow, thanks for giving this back!"

She turns on her heels and scurries away before Lauren could throw any other insults at her. Lauren narrows her eyes and watches Camila walk away. She swears at whatever celestial being out there for making her share the field with Camila Cabello and her squad of ball-kicking goons.

She swears at Camila too, for being a slick git and for always finding out a way to slip out of Lauren's grasp. And as if Camila could hear her thoughts, she turns around. Lauren narrows her eyes, and they make eye contact for a quick second. Then Camila is fanning her shirt like the heat from the sun is too hot for her, and maybe it is, but Lauren doesn't stare any longer.

With a deep breath, she faces her team again. Lauren had many chances to barrage her with questions she needed answers to like who exactly is the dumbass that keeps kicking the ball this way, and why exactly are they on the team, and can they please stop because Lauren will literally sneak into the storage room at night and deflate all the damn soccer balls if another one comes their way.

"So are you guys dating or what?"

Lauren almost growls at this, despite the heat in her ears.

"Which one of you said that?" Lauren asks menacingly, standing as intimidatingly as she can.

"I heard Ally say it, ma'am." Dinah pipes up. A few people snicker.

"What the heck?" Ally turns to Dinah before bumping her with her shoulder.

"You know what to do," Lauren purses her lips and makes a swirling motion with her hand. "Ten laps."

"Yes ma'am," she sighs and turns to Dinah. "You're a little bitch." Dinah laughs as Ally starts her run.

"Alright you slowpokes, back to lunges!"

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