Fated.

'Kiss And Make Up.

Lauren always chooses Camila.

She chose to sit next to Camila whenever they could choose their seats from kindergarten through middle school; she decided to work with Camila on every school group work whenever possible, and she chose Camila on her team during gym classes even though Camila had no athletic bone in her body.

She will always choose Camila.

And that doesn't necessarily mean she's in love with her. It means, first and foremost, that she's her best friend. The girl that understands her better than she understands herself, the girl that she will always protect from anything and everything, such as dumb horny high school boys.

She finds Camila amidst the party with a probably horny guy who's all over her and trying to convince her to go upstairs with him. Lauren charges through the crowd with purpose, and the closer she gets, the more she can see how utterly smashed Camila is.

Her dark hair is a mess, framing her face. Her cheeks are flushed bright red, and her eyes are glazed over. The strap of her dress has fallen down her delicate shoulder. She's giggling at the guy, who seems to be the only thing keeping her from keeling over.

"No, no, I swear, I can do it. Just give me another chance," Lauren hears her say— slur— as she gets closer, "I can rap Busta Rhymes's whole verse in Look At Me Now. Just watch!" She tries but fails, her words heavy in her mouth, pouring ungracefully over her lips, and she pouts, disappointed.

"Come with me upstairs," the guy says, pulling Camila closer and leering. You can show me all the other things you can do with that mouth."

Lauren grimaces. Disgusting. Her blood feels like fire in her veins, and she grabs the back of the guy's shirt, forcefully ripping him away from Camila. Camila stumbles, but Lauren catches her before she lands on the floor, steadying her against her.

"Hey!" The guy exclaims once he's gotten his bearings.

Lauren fixes him with a withering glare. "Get the fuck out of here before I decide to punch you in the throat for trying to take advantage of her like this."

The boy flips her finger and, with a huff, disappears.

"Laur?" Camila slurs, grabbing Lauren's arms to steady herself.

Lauren turns her attention to Camila, pushes her hair out of her face, and studies her. "You're a mess, Camz," she says with a sigh. What are you doing?"

Camila's lips quirked up in an almost-there smile. "I'm having fun," she says, dragging the word "like the way you like, Lauren."

Lauren frowns. "You don't have to act like someone you're not. Not for me. Not for anyone, Camz."

Camila blows air out of her mouth and pokes Lauren's cheek, "I want you to like me."

Lauren wants to brush off this talk as drunken and incoherent. Still, she has a feeling Camila is genuinely feeling this way. There's a pang of hurt in her heart, and she squeezes Camila closer, pulling her dress strap back in place.

"Camila," she says thoughtfully, "Of course, I like you. That's why I'm here, to save you before you do something you regret."

Camila looks into her face, silent for a moment before she breaks into a giggle. "Yeah?"

Lauren smiles and pokes her nose. "Yeah, dummy. Let's get you home."

They hitch a ride home, and Lauren decides to take her back to her place because she knows Camila's parents won't be too pleased by her state— and luckily, Lauren's mother is away on a night shift at the hospital.