Not Quite the Opposites (camren)

6 Drunken Rendezvous

I could not explain the displeasure that rippled through my skin when I found Jette Zack waiting for me at the front entrance of the school.

Here I was, assuming a complete-ish stranger wouldn't follow through with a crass plan but of course, I could be wrong.

I just didn't expect it at the time.

Jette was with her short minion who introduced herself as Ivy. Ivy had short brunette hair, straight and up to her shoulders. She wore braces. She actually didn't dress as crazy as Jette and seemed friendly and non-repulsive despite her high-pitched voice that was increasingly irritating.

Sure, inviting yourself wasn't enough.

We made it to my house in Ivy's blue Toyota Camry. I was in the back with the brunette driving and Jette in the passenger seat. It was not an ideal 10-minute ride. We barely talked; it was practically me directing her to the destination and that was it.

I was particularly uncomfortable despite being alone in the back. Jette just crept me out further with her staring and that stupid devious grin. It was only a couple more seconds of staring before I was going to open the door and jump out of the moving vehicle. I don't know how Camila can be so open minded about her.

Yes, Lauren, you're thinking about Camila again. And guess what? Your boyfriend won't approve of this, too.

They talked. They even laughed a couple of times, talking about two guys called Brad and James.

I twisted the knob of the apartment I share with my family expecting, actually bracing for commotion, nothing but unsightly commotion. I pushed the door open and found an organized reprieve with things tucked away to their rightful places which was expected of a normal house. My mother's car was parked outside. I was relieved, very relieved. Okay, I was too relieved.

"Mom?" I called out as I pushed the door open, the two girls standing behind me.

I was greeted by an exceptionally organized house. The stairs didn't have the shoes we partially uncovered from our boxes.

"Kitchen, nugget!" She replied, her voice radiating from the aforementioned room.

We walked down the hallway with our shoes clicking against the hard wood floor. My backpack hung on my right shoulder as I clenched on the strap tightly. I looked to the right and found our living room spotless. Couch and matching chairs were ready to nestle with tired butts and aching backs. There was a glass coffee table that sat in the middle of the room. The television was mounted on the wall; plugged and ready to fire.

The dining room wasn't as chaotic as when I was there hours ago. The wooden dining table and chairs stayed in place.

The white walls were still bare and without any significant paintings or framed pictures. Curtains were not up yet we had vertical blinds. The house needed some personalization given the absence of picture frames and just decorations my parents like. But we barely wear places out and then we have to go.

The house is practically engulfed in white; despite some noticeable black and brown outlines, everything was white. It was a gorgeous minimalist interior. I liked it despite my inclination towards black.

But there was an utter and noticeable lack of cardboard boxes.

In the kitchen, I found my father cutting oranges into wedges on the kitchen island while my mother was cleaning out some lettuces in the sink facing the white wooden window panes. They were preparing dinner as a team.

My mother was still in her work clothes while my dad wore a t-shirt and cargo shorts plus an apron with ruffles outlining the entire thing. It was adorable.