Roman Holiday

Normani

So Lauren has this cute-ass picnic packed and honestly, my heart is fluttering. Literal butterflies in my stomach. But I'm afraid this is just a friendly thing. I want her to know I see her romantically.

We're having a nice chat about the weirdest things she's seen in this park and aliens. "They have to! I don't believe that humans are the only species. It's completely unrealistic," she stresses.

"But I don't think they're like the Martians we see on TV. I think they're microorganisms, or like little bugs."

"I think they're like humans. I think they have colonies. I think they have their own languages and education and maybe even social media and technology."

"I can't see it."

"Open your mind, Normani," she spreads her hands out like a rainbow and then unwraps a Rice Krispie. Watching Lauren eat a Rice Krispie is possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. I think it's the last thing I want to see before I die.

"Lauren, since you asked about my past relationships earlier, now I have to ask about yours," of course I'm talking about when she called me out of the blue about Luke. We're over it by now, so it's just a joke. But I genuinely want to know who she's dated. Guys or girls? Both? Am I her type?

Her cheeks blush up and turn pink, "I haven't really dated."

"You're hiding something," I poke her in the stomach.

"I'm not! I went on two dates with Brooke Callahan, but she wouldn't date me unless I went vegan. There you go. All my dirty secrets."

Brooke Callahan. Junior. 16. Definitely female.

"So you're bi?"

She goes red in the face, "Um, yeah."

"Cool, I'm a lesbian," did I say that? I couldn't have.

"Oh, that's cool," she doesn't ask 'but what about Luke?' or 'because of Luke?' like everybody else does. She doesn't even namedrop him!

"Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"What? Oh my God, no. I think it's cool. Genuinely. All my friends are straight," she giggles.

"So, boring."

She lets back a loud, cackling laugh that booms through the park and into the sky. She's never laughed like that in front of me. It's incredible, "I guess you could say that," she tosses a braid over her shoulder.

There's definitely a new mood in the air. Something's shifting between us. Now I know she COULD be really into me. That's different. "Tell me your worst date."

Lauren thinks about this for a while, before exclaiming, "Oh! I know. I decided to meet this guy Damien at a 50s style diner and he didn't show up. We tried to reschedule and he wanted to rent a motel room. For our date. Not really a date..." she shrugs.

Her eyes are really green. That's all I can think. I'm hardly listening to what she's saying. "I had a lot of bad dates when...you know."

I see anger flash across her eyes. That comforts me in a weird way. "He's a dick."

"I know."

"It just really bothers me that that happens to good people. Actually, I'm annoyed that it happens to anybody."

"Girl, it sucks. But you don't have to get worked up about it for me," I laugh a little. She settles down eventually.

As we sit on this ledge and look down at the people, we try to create back stories for them. Why they're smoking pot. Why they're always looking around. Why they're wearing that shirt. Lauren is so enthusiastic about this game, and I start to wonder what the people down there are making up about us. Some gross lesbians judging everybody. Sadly, they're all wrong. We're friends.

(Or whatever.)