mean girls

xxii. epilogue

The night before Dinah Jane's wedding, Camila is having a hard time sleeping.

"C'mon, Bows," Lauren whines, after she twists in the sheets for what it feels is the umpteenth time. The bows had long since been gone, but the nickname had stayed, a reminder of tumultuous but promising beginnings. Camila smiles despite herself. "Yale's already given me enough dark circles under my eyes to last me for a lifetime, I don't need you adding another layer. It won't be a good look for a bridesmaid."

They're staying at the hotel where the wedding reception is being held, together with all the guests. It's good to see her friends and family again, it's wonderful to get to sleep next to Lauren for a few nights, but despite all that, she can't shake off the hollow feeling settled around her heart.

"I just can't believe Dinah is getting married," she says, turning so she's staring at the back of Lauren's head. "Dinah 'boys are boring' Jane is the first of our friends to get married."

"I feel like we've been having this conversation for the past three months," Lauren says, shifting to face Camila in the dark room. "DJ can take care of herself, you know?"

"I don't doubt that," Camila huffs, failing to glare at Lauren because their position is too intimate and Lauren is the cutest when she's sleepy. "I just don't think 'he's rich and always travelling' counts as good reasoning for getting married.

"Don't forget Brazilian, in need of a green card and twelve years her senior," Lauren teases, poking her on the belly before lying on her back and pulling Camila closer. "Dinah is not like us, baby. She's not much of a romantic, she doesn't have a lot of patience for people having — god forbid — feelings, especially if she has to be involved in them. The way I see it, it makes a lot of sense for her to turn to this kind of arrangement. Plus, Rafa is a great guy, so it could be worse."

"She's 21, Lauren." Camila sighs, fingers tracing her girlfriend's naked chest. "We're no longer in the fifties, girls get to have some fun before tying themselves down."

"I'm sure Dinah will have lots of fun with her future husband's credit cards," Lauren says, kissing the top of Camila's head. Suddenly she gasps and Camila looks up. "Do you think she calls him 'daddy'?"

Camila punches her arm. "Lauren! That's disgusting!"

Lauren laughs, loud and vibrant, always entertained by getting Camila in a flustered state.

"I know you're worried and that's normal considering they met each other like, last year, and got engaged three months ago, but in all the time that you've known Dinah, have you ever even heard of her doing anything she didn't want?" Lauren's hand moves gently down Camila's back until it rests on the curve of her ass. It's a habit she'd developed over time as their sleepovers became more common and — strangely enough — it tends to indicate she's about to fall asleep, so Camila snuggles closer, kissing the underside of her jaw.

"You're right. Dinah is a big girl, she can make her own decisions and handle whatever life throws at her."

"Yeah, and you'll be there for her if anything gets rough 'cause you're the best friend ever." Lauren squeezes her butt cheek fondly and Camila can feel her closing her eyes somehow, just like she notices her breathing slowing down. "Clique that suffers together stays together."

"Good night, Lauren," she whispers, her own eyes shutting under the exhaustion she'd been denying. "I love you."

Lauren doesn't reply, already lost to the oblivion of sleep, but Camila doesn't need to hear it to know the truth.

Not anymore.

The bridesmaids are wearing red. Not a conventional choice, but nothing about Dinah is conventional so there hadn't even been an attempt at protest, especially not after she'd explained red is a color that looks equally good on all of them.