Lauren's an over the road trucker who always runs solo. She stops off in some little podunk town somewhere and ends up meeting up with a young and desperate Camila trying to get to New York. Camila's so desperate to get there that she's willing to do anything.
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The bell over the diner's door in the tiny ass town in Florida that she didn't even care enough about to learn the name of jangled noisily as she pushed through the door, pulling off her navy blue ball cap and running a hand through her thick black hair before pulling off her sunglasses. The older woman with her grey hair teased up into a beehive popping a piece of gum obnoxiously was such a stereotypical diner waitress that it almost made her want to laugh, but instead she just walked in and threw a leg over one of the steel and red vinyl stools at the counter. Seeing the plastic nametag declaring her name to be "Flo" almost pushed her over the edge into laughing, but she managed to keep it in.
"What can I get you, sweetheart?" the woman asked, pushing up cateye glasses on a sparkly beaded chain as she popped her gum.
The woman shrugged, setting her cap on the counter. "Just a cup of your best joe and a slice of that pie over there sounds pretty good," she said, nodding at the glass case behind the counter.
Flo scribbled on her pad and shoved a laminated menu at her. "In case your stomach changes its mind," she said, sliding a mug of coffee to her before heading off to get the pie.
The woman rolled her eyes before turning to peruse the rest of the diner as she sipped her coffee. Her denim jacket slid open over the ribbed white wifebeater as she moved. The white shirt clung to her tanned skin in a way that accentuated the curves of her body, drawing the eye to her cleavage as she took a sip from the mug. Dark eyes slid over the middle-aged men in worn business suits clustered around a copy of the want ads in the corner and a party of grey-haired old ladies shooting her looks over their scrambled eggs and coffee.
After a moment, she realized that she'd managed to gather a far younger audience than the blue-hairs gossiping about her. Her eyes strayed to the corner of the room, sliding over the amazing expanse of leg being shown off by the girl's short skirt. Her lips quirked up in a smirk around the rim of her mug as she felt her cock twitch in appreciation. Nothing like a gorgeous set of legs to catch her attention. The sweater with the fugly ass owl on it had to go, but if the rest of the body rocked as much as those legs, she was definitely interested.
Ceramic spun against linoleum behind her as Flo slid her pie onto the counter behind her soon followed by a clatter of metal of a fork joining it. "You'd best keep those eyes of yours in your head. That's the mayor's daughter, not some common floozy."
The woman spun back around, raising a brow. "The hell are you talking about?"
She nodded at the girl in the corner, her silver beehive bobbing to provide extra emphasis. "That there is Camila Cabello. She's the mayor's little girl and her boyfriend's the star quarterback of the football team. She ain't for fly-by-nights like you to gape at."
She frowned at her. "Where do you get off judging me, lady? You don't even know me."
Flo snorted. "Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I've known plenty of your type. And you're nothing but trouble for small town girls like Camila. Stay away if you know what's good for you."
"Up to me what's good for me and what's not, now ain't it?" The woman snorted and shook her head, digging into her pie as the waitress walked away.
"Hi." The voice was mildly annoying, but it wasn't nothing she couldn't get used to she decided as she turned to look at the girl who'd come up to her while she was smoking.
