Photograph (camren)

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Oh, thank fuck, Dinah." Lauren sighed as the Polynesian pulled up to the hotel room's door. Yeah, it was one of those old school dingy ones. The kind you probably wouldn't park your worst enemy in, but cheep nonetheless. So much for respect your troops, eh? Before the marine had the chance to say anything else, the taller girl enveloped her in a bone crushing hug. What? She missed her best friend. Let her live will ya? God.

"It's good to see you in one piece, Lo." Dinah mumbled as she pulled back from the hug to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. The blonde had been the one of four the four girls who had tried their hardest to keep it together. She wanted to be strong for Mani, for Ally, but mostly for Camila. In the long run, it had been the small doctor who had taken Lauren's absence the hardest, when before it had been Ally. However, it was to be expected. Nobody cared for the marine like the brunette and each of them knew that. But it didn't mean that Dinah didn't fear that the next time she'd see Lauren would be in a casket as trumpets played 'Taps' and her colleges performed the '21 Gun Salute'. It didn't mean she wasn't scared. It didn't mean she didn't miss her best friend. It meant she did.

"Hey, it's okay." Lauren smiled softly in attempt to console the blonde. "I'm here."

"Yeah," Dinah put her hands on both of the marine shoulders, going through her traditional check for any physical damage on Lauren's body, then squeezed reassuringly. "you are. Now, let's go. You owe me a coffee and we have to go to that boujee ass flower place, so you can play romantic and all. I told Camila I had to babysit Regina today so she wouldn't ask any questions. Your plan is a go Lieutenant long legs." She chuckled as she pulled away and picked up the marine's bag to put it in the backseat of the car.

  Old Yeller was old, but he was reliable, which is why Dinah hadn't scarped the him yet. That and well, memories.

"Sounds good." Lauren agreed easily, following the blonde to the old rust bucket Dinah called her car. "You still haven't ditched the old bastard yet? Thought I told you to take its ass to the junk yard before I left? Dinah this thing is going to break down!"

"Don't talk about Old Yeller like that! Give him some respect Jauregui, he took your ass to plenty of basketball games and practices to last a lifetime! You can be broody all you want, but don't take it out on the car. This here," Dinah smile as she rubbed the dashboard while she slipped into the driver's seat. "is old reliable. He got through that hellish blizzard in 2015, and he'll get your ungrateful ayus home. No chance in hell will this thing breakdown."

Lauren rolled her eyes and made herself comfortable, undoing the first few buttons on the camo uniform. "Do you think I should change into my blues, or stick with this old thing? Clean and cut, or rugged and fresh outta Afghanistan?"

"Well first of all, those dress blues, or whatever the fuck they're called, have always looked good on you. Second, if you say 'fresh outta Afghanistan' again, I will friend divorce you. But thirdly, clean and cut has always been a look. So, I'd say change into the dress blues. Save the uniform and ruggedness for when you come home and she great you at the airport. This is her birthday. Class it up a bit Jauregui."

"True." Lauren responded intelligently. Why couldn't she just come to that conclusion herself? Right, because Dinah knew best in times like these. But, also, the Polynesian is the only one besides the marine herself who knows what Camila likes better than she does herself. Pondering how it was that the blonde had figured out her girl had a thing for the traditional uniform, Lauren's eyebrows furrowed together to make a small crinkle in her forehead. Also, one of Camila's favourite things about her lieutenant.

"She told me."

"Wha-?" Another intelligent response; 0 for 2.

"Mila told me she really had a thing for you in your blues, it came up in conversation since I asked how your Valentine's day had gone." Dinah's eyebrows raised playfully, resulting in a small smack to her shoulder by the lieutenant; thankfully, she had already pulled onto the main drag.