Keep Me Alive • Camren

Ten

Lauren rushes out of school, clenching her coat closer to her body. She wonders how other students can walk around in just a sweater or light jacket, and comes to the simple conclusion of insanity. It was all Lauren seemed to do recently. Whine about the weather, or wait for classes to end. Her behavior wasn't at it's best either, and her mood fluctuated on a daily basis. No one noticed though. That Lauren barely ate, didn't sleep well. Of course, she didn't complain about the anxiety she felt, constant muscle aches, runny nose, or sweating. These symptoms could easily be confused with the common cold or PMS, so her parents would brush it off anyway. Even if Lauren wanted to tell them, they wouldn't believe her. They were in denial when she told them about the Adderall, let alone an opiate. Did she want help? Maybe. Was she willing to ask for it? Hell no.

Lauren sulks as she enters the apartment, throwing her bag onto her bed. As she turns to leave, she meets the sheet music lying on her night stand. The recital is on Thursday and she has barely practiced. She bites her lower lip, but doesn't take the papers. If she didn't leave now, she'd miss the city bus and be late to her first day on the job.

Lauren pushes the glass door open. Bells chime to announce her arrival. "You're late." A familiar voice points out, and Lauren finds Camila at one of the empty booths. "By five minutes. Plus, there's no one here." She turns her head toward the counter, "not even the workers."

They sit, waiting for the same girl from before to call them in for testing. Camila is asked to make her way to the bathroom first. "Good luck." Lauren half jokes. She taps her fingers on the table as she awaits her turn. Why was she nervous? She managed to stay clean for the five days. There would be no trace in her system, yet she felt her heart almost burst out of her chest when she heard her name being called. She lets out a breath and smiles at the girl, sure that she was making herself look more guilty by not trying to.

"Ok, great!" The seemingly always enthusiastic girl claps her hands when Lauren gives her the sample. "I'll just have them test these, but I'm sure they'll be fine." She smiles at them and goes into the back, returning with two uniforms. A light blue shirt, and black jeans. Camila and Lauren enter the bathroom, sliding into two separate stalls, they remove their clothes and change into the work outfits.

An hour passes with no costumers. Thirty minutes of which were spent with the girl, who turns out to be their manager, who's name they find out is Ally, teaching them how to use the ice cream machine. It's not difficult to swirl the frozen treat onto cones or into cups, but Ally insisted it had to be perfect.

Lauren and Camila are behind the counter. One is leaning on it, her hands cupping her cheeks in boredom.The other is leaning with her back against the counter, studying the menu. "Who knew there were so many ways to serve ice cream." Lauren speaks, and it's the first time anyone has said anything between them since they started working. Camila stands up, glancing at the menu but focusing her attention on Lauren's face. "You're an idiot." She traces the scrapes softly, and Lauren waits for to finish before she even attempts to speak. "For being pushed onto ice and falling, when I didn't know how to skate?" Lauren and sarcastically. Camila returns to her original position, "for not realizing it was fall." She corrects, and Lauren realizes that the brunette was talking about the job. She then wonders what the point of touching her scars was.

Two hours later their first costumer comes in, and it's no other than Zendaya. Camila scoffs, as she fetches the order, while Lauren shamelessly flirts with the girl.

Camila watches as she and Lauren exchange numbers. "Guess who has a date?" Lauren chimes, but Camila couldn't be less interested.

The rest of their shift consisted of Camila assisting the two other costumers they had, while Lauren texted Zendaya. Giggling like a school girl every five minutes.

"When's your date?" Camila asks as the two girls sit in their usual spot on the roof. She didn't care, but if Camila could think of anything else to talk about, she would. "Friday. She wanted it to be Thursday, but I have a recital." Camila nods, pretending to be interested.

"Do you wanna come?"

"To an auditorium full of snobby music prodigies? No thanks."

"Come on. Please?"

Camila shrugs her shoulders, agreeing only to silent Lauren. She pulls out a carton of cigarettes, and Lauren watches her inhale, keeping the smoke for a few seconds, before slowly releasing it out into the air. "Where'd you get that?" She asks. "The store." Camila answers simply, and Lauren almost laughs. "Who got it for you?" Camila takes another drag. "A friend." Lauren keeps her eyes on Camila, but doesn't pry. She never did. The younger girl would tell her when she was ready. As Camila brings the cigarette to her lips, Lauren remembers the question she had asked about cigarettes being Lauren's new addiction. She realizes how easily habits can die, but remembers how quickly old ones can return. She watches Camila finish the cigarette and reach for another. Then wonders if she, like Lauren, was returning to her old ways. Addiction doesn't disappear, so neither must despair.

Lauren swallows a lump that has formed in her throat. She had grown attached to the small girl sitting adjacent to her. What then, if she was gone?

She shakes her head, to rid herself of the awful thought. And when Camila reaches for the third cigarette in 15 minutes, Lauren grabs her wrist. Their eyes meet, but Lauren doesn't pry. She never did. Instead, she takes the cigarettes out of Camila's possession and lights them. One by one, arranged next to each other. Like a miniature fire. She watches them begin to burn out, as the sweet smell of smoke fills the space around them. Lauren's hand is still tightly grasping Camila's who's arm is trembling now, but she doesn't let go. And Camila doesn't pull away.

She sits with Camila on the roof, and waits. Like the first day they met. But Camila doesn't speak. And Lauren doesn't pry. She never did.

All Lauren could think about today was that she would finally get to inject herself again. That's all she waited for, and for a while she pondered if she should leave Camila on the roof and do it. But that would be selfish. So, she doesn't. Instead, she scoots closer to the girl. Surprised when Camila rests her head on her shoulder. They sit there, and it's a lot like their first encounter. Except Camila is not angry, and Lauren is more resistant to leaving when Camila asks her to.

Lauren smiles a small smile. She smiles at the fact that she and Camila barely knew anything about each other, yet it felt as if they'd known each other for years. They talked all the time, but never about themselves. And it was times like this, she wished they did.

She often wondered what went through Camila's fucked up mind. And She wondered if Camila ever felt curious about what ran through hers. Then, as if Camila could hear Lauren's thoughts, she speaks.

"I still want to die, Lauren." Her voice quivers, as if she's afraid of what she's saying. Lauren's heart sinks.

She doesn't respond. She doesn't know how. She wished she knew how to make her feel safe, happy. "You can't." Is all Lauren musters, and Camila nods.