you make me sick (for being so perfect)

Forty Seven.

"We're doing individual speaking assignments."

The second Camila hears the words, she looks over to Lauren, who is suddenly a lot tenser than she was before. Speaking assignments would've been bad enough, but individual ones? Talk about Lauren's personal hell.

Camila shuffles closer to her girlfriend and holds out her hand, hoping that Lauren will take it. The older Latina favours clenching and unclenching her fingers as she watches their teacher explaining assignment guidelines.

"Lo?" Camila tries her best to soothe her girlfriend, not sure if her words are even registering in Lauren's brain. "I'm sure she doesn't mean you. She probably knows how nervous you'd be-"

"I wasn't in a Spanish class last year," Lauren interrupts her, staring down at a little scratch on their desk. "I did one on one in my free periods instead. Because of the- uh, speaking requirements."

"Well," Camila tries to think of something positive. "We'll talk to our teacher after class and see if she'll let you out of it. If she refuses, we'll get a note from Demi and see if that works."

Lauren keeps clenching her fingers, and Camila knows that's a negative stim. A stim that she doesn't want Lauren to keep doing, because if she's doing that, it means she's upset. And an upset Lauren is her least favourite thing in the world.

"I don't-" Lauren closes her eyes and lets out a long breath. "I don't like public speaking. I'm not- I'm not good at it. And- um, I... it- I stutter when I'm nervous and people are mean..."

"Hey," Camila murmurs, resting a hand on Lauren's shoulder and sending her the most supportive smile she can muster. "We'll get it sorted out. I promise."

"It's- um, 20%," Lauren gestures towards the front of class, "of our grade. I can't not do it."

"Maybe... we'll ask if you can do something else to make up for it." Camila says. "If not... screw the 20%."

"I can't!" Lauren looks at her like she's crazy, "It'll ruin my GPA! It won't be a 5.0 anymore, I can't- I- Camz-"

"Hey, Lo, shush," Camila carefully takes her girlfriend's hand as the bell signalling lunchtime rings, "It's okay. We'll work something out right now."

"What- but," Lauren frowns as Camila shushes her again. "It's not- it won't be okay!"

Once most of the class has left, Camila takes Lauren by the wrist and pulls her up to their teacher's desk, not sure what to say, but only one thing on her mind.

"About the speaking assignments," Camila introduces the topic, making sure to run her thumb over Lauren's knuckles to calm her girlfriend down. "Is there any way for Lauren to skip out on it but have it not affect her grade?"

"No," their teacher shakes her head and Camila's heart nearly breaks at the sound of Lauren's upset whimper, "it's compulsory to complete a speaking module."

"Well, uh," Camila pauses in thought, "does it have to be individual? Like, could I work with her and do like a conversational kind of thing?"

Their teacher seems to consider it, and Camila carefully places a hand on the small of Lauren's back and starts tracing circles, because she knows that calms her down. It's not the most calming thing for Lauren – that'd be belly rubs – but it works enough that her girlfriend becomes less tense.

"Okay," At the answer, Camila's heart soars, "but you have to speak an equal amount. Considering you're both native speakers, it shouldn't be too hard for you."