Just Off The Key Of Reason

Chapter 20: With My Eyes Closed You're All I See

Lauren's mind was like a marvelous, imaginary realm, or wonderland. A maze of spontaneous colors and images and feelings, tied together with creative logic and love. Camila had known this. She had known Lauren didn't think like other people, but reading the draft of Lauren's speech for the open house, Camila was mesmerized. In total awe.

Her girlfriend's mind was beautiful.

Why couldn't Camila's mind act like this? Purge the paranoia and mania, and just pure ridiculousness, and try to be more like Lauren's. It was probably because they'd both end up homeless, obese on Twinkies, and living in the zoo.

Oh dear God. Camila realized she was the responsible one in the relationship. Oh Lord. She looked down at her girlfriend and wondered what would happen if they traded minds. A typical Camila Cabello lazy Sunday afternoon thought.

Mind transplantation.

Lauren lay on her stomach on the grass next to Camila, doing a maze on the back of a candy wrapper with a neon blue highlighter while Camila's parents played with the dogs a few feet away.

Lauren's pretty head probably wouldn't be able to handle Camila's mind. It was insane and perverted at times, but oh so talented and loud. Camila could barely handle it. She was actually horrified by it a lot of the time.

Like, really, what the fuck was wrong with her thought process? How did it bring her to these places?

Only, looking at Lauren's speech, Camila figured nothing was wrong. Minds work in different ways. Lauren's just happened to work in an incomprehensible jumble of bright light, candy, animals, and words. Maybe Barnaby could understand it, but nobody else.

"You should write a book." Camila said absently, eyes tracing over Lauren's lopsided handwriting. Camila wondered if she consciously said "fuck it" to the lines on the paper, or if her hand just had a mind of its own.

Lauren hummed. She sat cross-legged now, looking at a little boy who was sitting several yards away, watching some other kids play soccer.

"Seriously, Lauren." Camila said, tearing her eyes off the paper and nudging Lauren's knee with her own. "Write about...I don't know, your experience with Asperger's. Write about your past, and animals, and how you're going to college. And you can throw me in there of course. It'll be inspirational."

Camila would love to be in a book. Other than her own half-written autobiography and the inevitable "legend of Broadway" mentions she'd get later.

Lauren lolled her head to the side to look at Camila. She scrunched up her nose like she doubted what Camila was saying, and Camila shoved her lightly in the shoulder with a smile.

"Tell her, dad. Make her write a book."

Yes. Force her. Tie her down and stick a pen in her hand, and Lauren would have no choice. Except Lauren probably wouldn't write. She'd make a game and toss the pen around, or doodle some elephants, or slingshot it at Camila using her ever-present rubber band.

"You are a very interesting person, Lauren. I'm sure there are kids out there like you, Asperger's or otherwise, who could use some hope." Alejandro stated, gazing at Lauren, and ignoring his struggling wife next to him.

Sinuhe was clinging to Barnaby's collar with all her strength to prevent the dog from bolting into the pond. Cornelius was eating the crusts off Lauren's sandwich, and Pongo had stayed home because he could only handle short walks.

Lauren looked at Alejandro and flushed. "Thank you."

Camila dug through their pile of food for something else to eat and emerged with a fucking Ho-Ho. God. She thought she'd eradicated this mess from her house. They just kept coming back.