The bell rang, dismissing everyone from sixth period.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and left Ag. Science, where I just aced the presentation on Parliamentary Procedure for FFA. Camille's high heels clicking and clacking against the laminate flooring behind me.
I put in my earbuds and turned the corner, picking up my pace.
“Jaylen!”
Why wasn’t she getting the hint?
I sighed and stopped, letting her half the size legs catch up with me.
    “What do you want?” I snapped.
    “We need to talk. Urgently.”
    “No, you need to talk. Urgently,” I micked her voice, this time earning myself a glare.
“You can’t tell others what you saw,” her voice was barely a whisper, even though most of the students had already left the school, “please. I won’t sugar coat it.”
“Fine, coffee. You're paying.” I started walking towards the large, metal doors, slowing down so she could keep up with me. She was being more persistent than usual, and honestly I didn’t mind the show.
“Right now?” she asked.
    “Yes, I have to pick up my sister in forty minutes.”
That was a lie. Robert picked her up when he picked up his little brother. Even so, I liked the idea of putting a restriction on how long I'd have to be with her.

I sat at the peach oval table in the cafe, sipping my mocha slowly. The art along the walls caught my eyes. One in particular. It was a line silhouette drawing of a girl, a crack down the mask she wore, with rainbow watercolor splatters in the background.
I looked back at Camille as she fidgeted with her skirt. I don’t think I’ve seen Miss Perfect so worked up. Well, besides yesterday of course.
    “So….” she started off, not making eye contact.
    “So...”
    “Where to begin?” she chuckled to herself. 
    “From the beginning.”
    “Yes-” she cleared her throat, finally looking up at me, “so, I had arrived home and someone had stolen a very precious necklace. My mother had blamed it on my friend Natalia. Now, after a bit of arguing about it, I become distressed, as you can imagine,” she blinked as her eyes started to glisten, “I had begun to cry and then, they thought it was a good idea to use the moment to strengthen my acting skills!”
    I grabbed my mocha and stood up.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Leaving.”
    “Why?”
    “Don’t care about your fake stories. Entertain someone else with them.”
    “It’s true!”
    “Mhm sure, and the seventh digit of pi is two.”
    “Actually, it is, 3.14159265359.”
I leaned my head back and groaned before rubbing my eyebrows, “Why are you such a nerd?”
    “Excuse me for being smart, and you deliberately chose a math statement knowing I’m great at math,” she tossed her auburn hair over her shoulder. She had me there.
    “Being smart and being a nerd are different things. Thin line, easily crossed.”
    “Like you know much about either, you don’t even pull out your math book.”
    “Don’t need to.”
    She rolled her eyes, “So you pass classes while doing absolutely zero of the work? Or do you pay others to do the work for you?”
    “That's a large assumption you're making.”
    “You’re a large person to make one about.”
    “Are you calling me fat?” I smirked. Her mouth opened and closed.
    “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” her face flushed.
    “Hmm…do I though? I think you just called me fat.”
    “I did not.”
    “Mhm, okay Miss Perfect,” Who knew getting under her flawless tanned skin was so fun.
    “Will you stop with that? I’m not perfect.” she threw her hands up and shook her head, not meeting my eyes.  
    “Oh, I know-” I bit my tongue. Some things are left better unsaid.
    She fidgeted with her skirt.
“Why do you have pi memorized?” I sat back down. She stood up straighter, lifting her chin. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Hello princess.”
“Why are you calling me that?” she rolled her eyes. I liked seeing her like this.
    “Because of your posture, what teen sits like they’re about to eat at a royal dinner huh?”
I sat slouched, my arms crossed on the table, sipping through the straw of my coffee. She blinked a few times and relaxed her posture a bit.
The faint smell of brownie filled the air, the sound of small talk from other tables filling our silence.
She picked up her phone with a, surprisingly, black and gray phone case, “The elementary is about to get out,” I stood up, grabbing my finished coffee. Guess that's the end of this.
I threw away my cup and opened the door, the noise of the streets no longer muted by the walls of the coffee shop. What should I make for dinner tonight?
The door opened and closed behind me.
“Wait!” Camille grabbed onto my leather jacket sleeve.
“What now?”
She swallowed, pulling on her skirt once again, “C-can,” she jumped as a person brushed against her arm, mumbling an apology. She threw her hair over her shoulder and bounced between feet.
“Camille?” I snapped.
“Can,” she swallowed again, “can we do this again?”
I stared at her, her auburn hair vibrant as ever. The street was loud, her shoulders tensed further each time a car honked, her eyes darting between vechiles in the rain. Did I want to continue seeing Miss Perfect? I didn't know. But, the entertainment of this was worth it.
“Fine. Whatever. You’re paying,” she smiled and walked away without another word.
Why did I just say yes?