Habit

Chapter 4

Camila went home that night utterly exhausted. There was something about the way Miss Lovato knew just how she was feeling, how she was thinking, that made her completely worn out.
There was nothing she could do at this point but sleep. Camila climbed into bed that night with some pills in hand, about 13 if she counted correctly. They weren't enough to kill her, but they were enough to let her sleep into the next day without waking up.
But before she could swallow them, she saw her phone brighten up and vibrate on her nightstand. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn't have bothered spitting out her pills.
But there wasn't a contact name on the number, and she had a feeling of who it might be.
She picked the phone up carefully, not fully knowing what to anticipate.
"Hey, slut. It's Lauren J. Wanna come over?I think you know what I want."
Camila shut her eyes, tighter and tighter until she felt tears slipping through from the pressure. She knew exactly what Lauren wanted-Camila's embarrassment. Camila choked on a small sob that appeared from within her and started typing a response she would soon regret.
"I don't know where you live."
oooo
Camila walked up the side of the small, gravel pavement leading to a window Lauren Jauregui had guided her to through sprawled texts. She was to come and leave, giving Lauren what she wanted in between, with no mention of such exchange to anyone at school, or really, any other place.
But this was strictly business, Lauren had said. And if Camila were to indeed keep it on the down low, Lauren would gradually stop terrorizing her at school. Camila knew "gradually" meant slowly but surely, because if Lauren just randomly stopped calling Camila out for her promiscuity people would notice. People would wonder. People would figure it out. So, the promise was murky waters, but it was worth it. Lauren was worth it.
Camila climbed through a small, open window that Lauren had directed to her and saw Lauren sitting at a small, wooden desk in the corner of the room. There was a bed in this room, and Camila had to say, the heaviness of the realization of what she was about to do crept on her. Lauren turned around at the sound of Camila's entrance and said in a quiet-and if Camila was right, almost regretful-voice, "Hey, whore. Ready to do what you do best?" Lauren's eyes were sad when she said this, and it made Camila ballsy.
"Why the fuck do you even want me here? You realize of course you're no better than me by consenting to this, right?" Camila took a step forward, and Lauren smirked.
"You're actually kind of hot when you try and be furious. You can't stay mad at me. Come on, let's just do it. I'm not paying you to stand there and yell at me."
Camila couldn't believe her ears. "What exactly do you take me for? I'm not some call-girl you can use whenever you like, sweet talk me to get my pants off, pay me, then dismiss me."
Lauren laughed out loud at this. "Actually, Camila, you are a call girl. That's why you agreed to this." Lauren started taking off her shirt, revealing her bra, and stood from her chair, grabbing Camila insensitively by the waist.
She backed her up into the wall, hips grazing, pulling at Camila's own shirt. "But that's okay," she whispered, as she placed a kiss near Camila's hairline, "because you'd be completely worthless without it."
Camila held back her head from the harsh words, the ease of the words, the knowing it was true. She let Lauren do what she would with her, went through the motions in a way that was easy, but quizzical. She'd never done this with a girl, but Lauren took control, which gave Camila something to work with. After all, she'd always wanted to know more about the girl. Lauren knowing exactly what to do told Camila she'd done this before, which actually shocked Camila more than Lauren even asking for Camila to come in the first place. But then again, why would anyone want Camila to be their first? The first time should be special and Camila was, if anything, as not-special as it gets. Camila wondered to herself who Lauren's first time was.
Lauren had apparently finished with Camila because she finally laid back against the bed, clearly exhausted, and closed her eyes. "You know, you'd be a bit more enjoyable if you equally participated and didn't think so much." Lauren looked over her way, and Camila could tell this time, without question, Lauren was trying to be nicer. Even if she was still being a bitch.
"How do you know when I'm thinking?" Camila queried, very intrigued. She loved knowing how people read other people.
"You get zoned out, no matter what I do. Your eyes kind of glaze over and your body language and your mind are two different beings. I don't know, I just know." Camila was laying on her back, clothes elsewhere, and Lauren bent over to pick up a blanket from the bottom of the bed.
She spread it over Camila carelessly. "Just go ahead and sleep here. It's too late to go back now." Camila must have shown her confusion because Lauren then said, "It's close to five. School starts in three hours. Just stay."
Camila blinked a few times, completely incompetent of the fact that Lauren actually wanted her to stay. It didn't make sense in her mind. But she figured now was the golden opportunity to wonder out loud about this girl that so fascinated, so resented her. "Okay, I'll stay. In exchange for conversation. I can't sleep, so you'll have to keep me company."
Under the little, orange light coming from a lamp in the corner, Camila could see Lauren's eyes narrowing. "Whatever, whore."
Camila flinched at the term thrown towards her. "Why do you hate me so much? What did I do?" Lauren laughed at the speculation.
"You didn't do anything. You're just disgusting. Your little habit makes me sick. I don't hate you, Camila, I'm repulsed by you."
Camila shut her eyes; she was used to droning out remarks like this, especially from Lauren Jauregui. "At least you're honest," she muttered, mostly to herself.
She rolled over, hopeless. Lauren sighed behind her.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

Camila laughed. "What, everything else you spit at me on a daily basis isn't uncalled for?" Lauren didn't respond for a while, and Camila just assumed she'd fallen asleep, but there was an undeniable question in a voice she heard behind her, too quiet to know for sure it was real, too loud for it to be Camila's mind.

"I just don't understand you. Why do you do this to yourself?"