Buzzed Hearts

23: the kissing bush

THE THREE OF THEM are sitting at their favorite lunch spot again. This time, Roma roped along. She's even starting to get on Jeremy's good side, by asking him questions about soccer and even playing with him sometimes.

    "Nice cream and chill? Anyone?" Elle offers.

    It's a weekly tradition for them. She takes them home and makes them ice cream out of frozen bananas and various fruit. Then, they watch a movie and eat pizza until Camila has to go home to practice ("At eleven fucking p.m.?").

    "Can't. My mom went into labor this morning," Camila says. Almost too nonchalantly.

    "No way."

    "Why didn't you say anything?"

    "How can you be so chill about it? Are you serious?"

    "My mom would want you guys not to worry. You guys want to visit next week and see the baby? I have about a few hours to pick a name to name him."

    "You're horrible Camila. You haven't put in any thought about this baby's name," Elle says.

    "Neither did your mom," Jeremy says and laughs as he and Roma make eye contact.

    "I'm sure you'll find something. I've always liked Jonathan," Roma speaks up.

    "Oh, so you could shorten it to John or Nathan." Camila stabs at her salad. "How about Cameron? I've been thinking Cameron."

    "That's nice too," Roma says.

    "Do you have any siblings?" Jeremy asks.

    "Older sister named Andrea."

    "Nice."

    "She's not really."

    "Compared to you," Elle says, all heart eyes.

    Jeremy makes a point to pretend-puke into his sub. "I have to go. Got a meet today. Bad news for you Cam," he says.

    Elle rolls her eyes and takes the rest of his vinegar and salt chips.

    "I'm gonna go too. I have free last." Camila slings her tote over her shoulder and leaves Roma and Elle to be. Romelle? Elma? She never quite liked names that named the couple as one functioning unit because they were so much more, independently or interdependently.

    It also stressed her that if she wanted a cute couple name, she'd have to find someone with a name compatible to her own. And she just knows that Laurent and her don't have anything that sounds nice.

    Speak of the devil, he's loitering outside the fringes of the parking lot.

    Camila prays that he's not in the bushes making out with someone like she used to do when she was juvenile.

    "Playing hard to get?" Laurent calls out when she makes a point to not notice him. "Not working since you were all over me yesterday."

    If she cursed, she'd do it right now because he sees right through her. It's his magical colorful eyes.

    "Can you give me a ride?" he asks.

    "Were you here to bum rides? Where's your own car?" For the first time in ages, she drove to school instead of waiting for Jeremy to pick her up—he's always late and has the worst music taste.

    "Back home. Not really into driving these days."

    "I'll do it...if..."

    Without hesitating, Laurent steps forward and with both hands—how romantic—grasps her jaw—with the lightest touch—and kisses her—with the faintest brush of a tongue—that could be a mistake though. But oh so gentle, he retreats just as he began.

    "Are you selling your body now?" Camila asks when she gets her mind ready. It would be dumb to not have her guard up with him—even though she hardly does.

    "I mean, you're in love with me and I'm not with you and kissing doesn't compromise any of my pure, godlike qualities."

    "That's harsh. Really harsh."

    But she's starting to like his way of greeting her.