“The true value of anybody in this town is very hard to determine. It’s all smoke and mirrors.” –Mark Ruffalo

By the time I woke up the next morning, he was gone.

Sun shone through a chink in my chiffon curtains, and in the distance I could hear the sounds of a dog barking, birds tweeting, car motors humming and lawn mowers. The usual Saturday morning sound.

But nothing about this was a normal morning.

For starters, it wasn’t often I had special kinds of sleepovers with guys, and it certainly wasn’t often they were gone before I rose from my slumber.

I turned over, and on my white nightstand, I noticed a folded piece of lined notepaper. I sat up and drew the covers around my bare body, before picking it up daintily and opening it.

Cammie,

I didn’t want to leave early, but I had to get home before my parents realized I didn’t come home last night.

I had an amazing time last night. Hope I see you soon.

-Z

I stared at his boyish scrawl, a small smile lifting up my lips. Well, at least he was caring enough to leave a note.

I sighed and laid the notepaper back down, before reclining back onto the pillows. I stared at the ceiling, my mind caught on Zach and the previous night’s events.

It had definitely been out of character for me, but sometimes if you were faced with an opportunity, you had to grab it. Carpe diem and all that.

I slowly rolled out of bed and rummaged through my drawers, before grabbing a pair of denim cut-offs and a loose dark top. I showered quickly and then hopped out from bed. Now that I’d made the most of my Friday night, it was time I did something productive today, too.

I picked my phone up from my shelf, and then dialed the first number on my Speed Dial.

It took a few rings, but eventually I heard the distinctive click and a groggy voice. “Hello?”

I thought back to the last time I’d heard Perrie’s voice. It was in an alleyway with Jeremy Quagmire, discussing some secret thing they had to desperately keep from me. Well, today was the day I found out what exactly she was hiding.

“Perrie!” I said cheerily, walking to my mirror and fluffing up my hair, which was already getting back it’s wavy texture.

“Cam?”

I smirked at my reflection, assessing my tanned skin, which seemed to have a certain glow this morning. Apparently the myths were true.

“Yeah, it’s me. How you doing?”

            “Why are you calling so early?” She sounded exhausted and disgruntled, as if I’d woken her fromm her sleep.

I glanced at the alarm clock. “Per, it’s eleven.”

“What?” she squeaked. “Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

“Do I look like someone who gets up at six and does yoga while sipping raspberry water from a mason jar? I was sleeping,” I told her. “Anyway, now that you’re up, I was thinking we could go out today. Catch a movie and lunch, or something.”

“I’m not feeling so well…”

“Who cares? Nothing cures sickness like some sushi and a good horror flick. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Perrie?” I heard a voice in the background. “What are you doing?”

“Who’s that?” I asked, cocking my head to the side and taking a seat on my unmade bed. I leaned over and began buckling my combat boots.

“W-What?” she stammered. “No one!”

Of course I knew she was lying. Because I recognized the voice. Of course I did.

Meaning that she’d spent the night at Jeremy’s.

And I really didn’t want to think about what they’d been doing.

“Whatever,” I said. I didn’t want to push this over the phone. I just wanted to get out of the house, meet up, and grill her for answers. “Get dressed. I’m swinging by your place in twenty minutes. Lunch is on me.”

“My place?” she asked. “Um… give me thirty.”

“Twenty-five,” I bargained, bringing the phone from my ear. “Hurry!”

I turned off the phone, and clenched it tightly in my first, clenching and unclenching my jaw. My stomach curdled at the thought of her and Jeremy’s predicament. This was much worse than I’d been hoping. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

I walked to the mirror and fluffed my hair, but my eyes still had that feverish, worried set to them.

“Calm down,” I told myself, adjusting my shirt and checking my appearance in a vain attempt to stop thinking about the fact she’d been having a little sleepover of her own the previous night. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

I walked to my nightstand and grabbed my keys, before leaving the house. I didn’t care if I was early for Perrie. She’d survive.

As I drove to her house, a colonial Victorian establishment, with lime-green lawns, rose trellises and perfect trimming, I couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation. I knew that there were things we didn’t tell each other, but this was obviously something big. And it was something bad.

Any good mood I’d had over what had happened last night evaporated as thoughts of Perrie and Jeremy permeated my mind. I cranked up the radio and sang along loudly in an attempt to rid my mind of the worst-case scenarios, but it was useless.

I pulled up in front of her house, and was practically out of the car before I’d even switched off the engine. I made my way up the clean, trimmed walk and through the front door without so much as a knock.

I climbed the large marble staircase and jogged straight into her room, a beautiful white and gold place with a Juliet balcony and mahogany bed frame. Standing in front of her mirror and pulling on a shirt was Perrie, who jumped at my sudden entrance.

“God, Cam, knock much?” she asked, rubbing her temple as she fiddled with the cap of her mascara.

“You look like crap,” I informed her, taking in her messy bedhead and rumpled demeanor. She looked paler than usual, and she had dark bags underneath her eyes. “Seriously. Are you sure your mom’s a cosmetic heiress?”

“It’s too early in the morning for your bitchiness, Cam,” Perrie groaned out, slicking on some mascara. It did nothing for her pale pallor, though.

I picked up a pretty pastel shade of pink and dangled it in her face. “Mind if I use?”

She shrugged, as if the fact I was using a lipstick worth one hundred and twenty dollars made no difference to her. “Whatever.”

“Someone’s grumpy,” I said, uncapping it and smearing the pretty pink over my conditioned lips. “You wanna tell me what’s up?”

“Bad sleep, that’s all.”

“How long do you think that excuse is going to be socially acceptable for?” I asked her curiously, replacing her lipstick back in the makeup bag and pulling out liquid eyeliner.

“Maybe I’m just an insomniac,” Perrie said, sitting on the edge of her made bed and laying back.

“Or maybe you were a little busy with other things,” I replied, quickly applying the eyeliner to my top lash and waterline, sparing her a quick glance in the mirror.

She swallowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you really gonna try to lie to me, Per?” I asked, slicking some clear lip-gloss on my lips and then turning around to face her with a small smirk. “I know you weren’t home last night. Which means you found a new roommate to cozy up to for a while.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she argued petulantly.

“I’m sure you don’t,” I told her. Did she really think I, Camila Stryker, most loathed and revered person in Leighton Fields, would be that naïve? “Except for the fact your room is totally clean, your bed’s made despite the fact it’s only been twenty minutes, you’ve still got yesterday’s jeans on, oh, and I can smell boy on you. You should really take a shower.”

“That obvious, huh?” she groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Wanna tell me who the boy is?” I asked, wondering if she’d have the gall to own up to the perpetrator.

“Just some guy,” she said evasively.

I shrugged, pushing back my anger. It would come with time. I’d have to plan exactly how to extract the right amount of information out of her at the right time. “Fine, don’t tell me. I guess I won’t tell you about my fun adventures last night, then.”

She snorted, as if that were the funniest joke she’d heard this year. “Yeah, right. Very funny, Cam.”

“I’m serious,” I told her. “Do I really give you the impression I’m not worthy of someone’s time?”

“No,” Perrie said quickly, realizing her faux pas. “It’s just that you don’t seem like the type of girl to do that kind of thing.”

            “I’m not. But sometimes you gotta have a bit of fun, right?”

            “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I tell if you tell.”

“I told you, just some guy. I met him at the club. He’s some college guy,” she said, but I could tell by her darting eyes that she was lying through her teeth.

“Really?” I said. “Which one? Because I went clubbing last night, too. It’s funny how I didn’t see you.” This wasn’t true, but she didn’t know that.

She swallowed, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh, we probably just missed each other,” she said, waving her hand nonchalantly. “I kind of went club-jumping.”

“I thought you hated nightclubs.”

“Are we gonna go get this sushi or not?” Perrie asked, her patience obviously wearing thin with my twenty questions.

“Depends. Are you actually going to eat something?” I replied.

She crossed her arms over her chest, appearing even more fragile than she was, like a little china doll. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I assessed her thin figure. The way her collarbone protruded from her skin, and her upper arms were the size of my wrist. Her thin waist and thighs. “When was the last time you ate a pizza, Perrie?” I asked. “Or just ate, for that matter?”

“I eat,” she said slowly.

“I’m starting to worry about you,” I told her, and I kinda wished that was a lie. But it was true. I had no idea what was gong on with her. Maybe it was some kind of eating disorder. “If you ever need help, you’d let me know, right?”

She smiled, but there was a slight tremble of hesitance in her voice as she said. “Yeah, Cam.”

I nodded, dropping the subject. “Well… okay, then.”

~          *          ~

It doesn’t matter who you are. Size, shape, ethnicity, religious background… seriously, there is one thing that bonds the world in glorious matrimony:

Mondays.

We all hate Mondays.

I don’t think any one person is spared by this. There is not one person who wakes up to their alarm at six in the morning on a Monday morning and thinks, “Oh, happy day! It’s Monday! Today is going to be fantastic.”

As much as I like to separate myself from the likes of others, unfortunately I am not immune to the sickness that is fondly known as Monday-itis.

Walking into school Monday morning, I could see that I joined the large demographic of teenagers who were definitely not enjoying themselves at eight on a Monday morning. Girls in beanies and jeans sipped hot chocolates and coffees from Styrofoam cups, and everyone was loose and lazy, the remnants of the weekend hanging on like a nasty dream.

Of course, there are several things that could have made my day better.

Like a good parking space.

Or a hot coffee.

Or the sight of Zach swooping in unexpectedly and planting a large, passionate kiss on my lips.

Or the sight of my best friend not standing by the lockers chatting to Jeremy Quagmire and laughing at his jokes.

Unfortunately, on Monday morning, none of these things happened.

The coffee machine broke, the line in the café was too long, the parking lot was full, Zach was nowhere to be seen, and, whoa, hey, look! There was Perrie laughing at one of Jeremy’s lame jokes. Yay, me.

I blew out a breath and walked up to them, glancing between them suspiciously as they spoke.

“Camila,” Jeremy greeted, his face twisting into a scowl as he spotted me. “What a truly lovely surprise.” His tone told me it was anything but.

“Jeremy, looking as horrible and drug-addled as ever,” I quipped, slipping into the gap between Perrie and Jeremy and using my height to separate the two. “But you can go now.”

“Cam, don’t be rude,” Perrie said, her eyes flashing.

“No, it’s fine,” Jeremy said. “Maybe if I leave, the claws will, too.”

I spun on him and glared. “Oh, yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said, forcing a bitter smile and nodding in Perrie’s direction. “I’ll see you later, Per.” He slid past me and started away, before turning back to her. “Oh, and Perrie?” She looked up at him quizzically, nibbling on her lower lip. He shot me a glare. “Choose better friends.”

I snorted as he walked away. “Oh, looks like we have a hypocrite in the house!” I said loudly, to no one in particular.

            “God, Cam, would you just stop?” Perrie snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. I noticed that, despite the warm weather, she was dressed in a long trench coat.

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the get-up?” I asked, appraising the long, dark clothing. “Not going prude on me, are you?”

“Maybe I’m just sick of the promiscuous outfits,” she replied.

I let out a low whistle. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just trying to hide something.”

Her eyes slit, and her lips twisted. “I’ve got nothing to hide, Camila.”

“Whoa, down, boy,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. “Touchy, touchy. Anyway, what’s the latest gossip? You know you’re my go-to girl.”

She shrugged and tore her eyes away, scanning the crowded corridor. I don’t know what she was looking for. Jeremy. A way out, maybe.

“Not much is on the gossip grapevine nowadays,” she said. “Lately you’re the one who’s been making waves on the rumor mill lately.”

“Oh, yeah? What have I done to earn this coveted spot?” I asked, leaning against the harsh metal lockers and raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

            She shrugged. “That whole goo stunt has got people in a tizzy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Wow, we need some better gossip. Maybe I should tell everyone about Solomon’s extra curricula activities and make new gossip.”

“I thought you didn’t care about being embarrassed like that.”

“I don’t. But I don’t appreciate people talking about me behind my back. They should know better.”

“People are beginning to question you,” Perrie said honestly. “I’ve heard some things…”

“Tell me them,” I said, leaving no room for questions.

She sighed. “People are thinking maybe this signals the fall of Queen Leighton Fields. Like maybe you’re not as strong as you say you are. You’re all bark and no bite.”

“Oh, I’ll show them about that,” I said, anger bubbling through my veins. It was one thing to try to humiliate me in front of my school with such an infantile prank, but it was a whole other thing to think they could bring me down from my rightful throne.

“What are you gonna do?” she asked, eyes wide.

“I’m gonna give this son of a bitch what they deserve,” I told her viciously.

“Cam…”

“What?”

            “Maybe you should just… ignore it…”

“Are you kidding, Perrie? Tell me you’re joking.” Judging by the hesitant look on her face, I could tell she wasn’t kidding. At all. “Per, come on. This person thinks they can humiliate me in front of the school and get away with it? I didn’t get here for nothing.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

“I just…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. Just be careful, Cam.”

She turned around and walked off, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded. I glared at all of the curious passers-by, letting them know that I was onto them. They thought I could be dethroned? I’d just make my way right back up there.

Long live the Queen, after all.

~       *       ~

I honestly don't remember writing some of these lines, but I'm pretty happy with it, so I'm letting it through :)

What do you think? Is Camila on a downward spiral into peasantry? Let me know!

Also I'm currently in the process of moving, which means my Internet has to be disconnected for ten days, so this is the last you'll hear from me for a week or two. When I come back, expect an update!

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Also, check out Smallville sometime if you get the chance. I love it and I need more people to obsess over it. If you're looking for an awesome TV show to fangirl over, there's your show.

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