Camren: Like Cats and Dogs

Chapter 13

{~~~~Camila~~~~}

"Boo!"

I squeak, drop my books, and whirl around to face my attacker...though I wasn't technically "attacked."

I should've known it'd be Melissa.

"You scared the chiz out of me!" I yell at her.

"Really? So, how was the beach?" she asks as if she couldn't be bothered by the fact that she nearly made me wazz my pants. Nor does she bother to help me pick up all the stuff I dropped on the floor in front of my locker.

Pendeja.

"It was nice," I answer somewhat irritably. Believe it or not, it's not Melissa I'm irritated with even though it's her that I just referred to as a jerk. It's Lauren.

The beach was nice, but I think Lauren's mad at me. I have no idea why. I thought we had a good time Saturday. To be honest, It was better than good. It was one of the best days I've had all year. We did a marathon's worth of running around with the girls; all while laughing, playing, and splashing around.

And judging by the amount of playing and laughing Lauren did with us, I'd say she had a pretty good day too.

But then she started acting weird afterward. Fidgety and short tempered. I figured she was just drained and wanted to hit the sack. I know I can be a bit cranky when I'm exhausted too.

I changed my mind about that theory Sunday. I could barely get her to talk to me on the phone. And whenever I texted her, I'd get short replies, like one or two words. Three at the most. Even worse than that, when I picked her up this morning she seemed to have even less to say than that!

Heck, she didn't even glare at me for anything. And as crazy as it sounds, I miss that. Not the glaring per se, but some sort of indication that she's her normal self.

But no, she's just been kinda....blah...about everything. When I asked her a question, she would either shake or nod her head. And for the questions that required more than a yes or no answer, she just shrugged until I quit trying to talk to her altogether.

"Earth to Canola."

I turn around quickly, just realizing that I'd been staring at Lauren. She's at her locker as well. Thankfully it doesn't seem as if she's noticed me staring. Or maybe she has and she doesn't give a ding-dang. As I said, she's been a bit indifferent toward me since the beach.

"So, how was soccer?" I ask Melissa. Maybe if I get her to talk about her weekend she won't comment on my zoning-outness. Though it's not really that good of a subject change if you ask me. I told Chris I was gonna go to his game and then I didn't show up. I feel guilty about it.

"It wasn't really soccer," she laughs. "But he tried, and he was so cute!"

"I bet he was," I smile absently.

"He asked about you." She tells me.

"Really? What'd you guys say?" I ask, though I kinda don't want to know what lie they told him at the same time. Whether I was too sick or I forgot to come, it doesn't really matter. I still wasn't there. That's all he'll know.

"I told him you wanted to be there."

"But?"

Melissa laughs again. "That's as far as we got. He's got the attention span of a cross-eyed Chihuahua."

I can't help but to feel relieved, and I laugh along with her.

I'd forgotten about that, about how fast that kid can bounce back. Maybe he didn't miss me at all. It makes me feel much less guilty then I'd been feeling just moments before.