"There's no way in hell I'm wearing that!" I protested as Cameron held up a black sequinned mini skirt.

"You said you were in," He groaned. "What's wrong with it?"

"Everything. Put it back." I looked elsewhere to find better options. "Nothing that glitters or shines, this entire plan is tacky enough as is."

He thinks I didn't see him but I saw him mock me, mouthing what I just said. I didn't care. I was beginning to have second thoughts anyway.

It's a Friday -- the day before this silly party and I'm out shopping for a "sexy" ensemble at a boutique with prices I've never heard of.

"Oh-ho-ho, we have a winner ladies and gentlemen," Cameron clapped. He reached into the rounded rack and pulled out a short red dress. The front had a plunging neckline and the back was barely there. My eyes widened because I knew I couldn't pull that off.

"If I wore that, I'd look like a sausage," I folded my arms.

"A spicy one. Give yourself some credit. You think I call every girl a cutie?"

"...Yes."

Cam sucks his teeth and shoves the dress into my hands. "Go try it on, let me see."

Junior-year Lauren would've been over the moon being out with Cameron Dallas, having him buy her clothes. College-freshman Lauren could care less. I went in the dressing room and put on the skin-tight crimson dress. I couldn't even zip it up. I sighed in defeat knowing what I needed to do next. I push back the curtain and immediately turn around, motioning for Cameron to zip me up. He does so but does it slowly.

"Sometime today," I folded my arms.

Finally he finished and I turned around, presenting the ensemble.

"Whoa. You look-"

"Like a sausage. I knew it." I threw my hands up.

"No, no! You look amazing. Where's the tag? How much is it?"

I turned around in a circle like an idiot, finally finding the tag. "It's-- holy shit. A hundred and thirty-two bucks. Back on the hanger it goes!"

As I make my way back into the dressing room, I hear Cam say, "Sounds like a plan."

He's fucking crazy. Crazy enough to buy it and so he did. He whipped out a credit card and handed it to the cashier. She folded the dress nicely and placed it in a shiny black box with sheer ribbon as if I was going to open it up again for bloody Christmas. Cameron looked cocky as he leaned sideways against the counter, smirking at me.

"Birthday money I never used," he added.

"You used your birthday money on me?"

"Technically, it's for me due to the plan and...other things." There was something about the way he responded that caused me to instantly freeze. I noticed through my side-eye that he was looking me up and down and then his attention went back to the cashier that handed him a receipt to sign. We thanked her and then we were on our way.

"Now we need to get you some shoes," he added. We went next door to DSW and I started looking at the clearance rack. He pulled my arm and shook his head. "Anything worth wow'ing someone with, you won't find in clearance."

"One, that's a lie. And two, sorry I'm not cool with the idea of you spending over a hundred bucks on me."

He guides me to the boots section and goes straight to these knee-high slouched high-heeled boots. I nervously giggled when I saw the length of the heel. Just about 4 inches. Again, I was urged to try it on and so I did. He made me walk back and forth, modeling them. With every little lap, I was able to walk a little better in them. But still I felt like a walking tower.

"Hmm," he began. "Knee-high boots look good on you when you're wearing shorts. Very nice." 

The boots were $129 and he bought them without even flinching. It must be nice to throw money around like that.

. . .

"I need you to perform," Cameron spoke in a dramatic voice. We sat in his car down the street lined with cars of partygoers. "I need you to stay close to me, and dance on me like you have to pay for tuition, girl."

Cameron knocks back an entire tiny bottle of vodka and gives me one, but rum. I knock mine back and he gets out the car, running around to my side and opening my door. I step out in the red dress and black knee-high boots. The rum didn't do much. I felt cheap. I felt like a hooker. There was most likely an easier way for me to get Jack back but I was so...desperate.

I lock my arm with Cameron's and we walk toward the house party. As we walked in, the house was packed. Where was there even room to do this ridiculous theatrical scene we were to put on? Cam scans the scene and there's no sign of Emilia. We move through the mansion some more and he finally spots her hanging out on the stairs between two different guys. I recognized one of them from the last party. Jack had called him Mahone which I'm guessing is a last name...I'm hoping it's a last name because...who names their child Mahone?

Cam was gearing up like he was preparing for war. I was just waiting on my cue. The music changed to something a little slower but Cam spun me around, ultimately pushing up behind me. It was showtime. His hands sat on my waist and I started grinding against him. I thought this was all for show but he was really getting into it. His hands began to wander and I had to try to stay in character. I almost slapped his hands since he was getting a little frisky. We weren't catching Emilia's attention and Cam quickly pulled me away to the kitchen where we took more shots. This was becoming bad news. Last time I was this drunk, Jack was there to save me from myself. 

I started to feel it, the dreaded drunken dizziness, as Cameron and I went back to dancing. But you know alcohol, it makes you feel some kind of way. We were really feeling the music...and each other. I was feeling like a different person. I was playing my part well. We were practically having sex on the dance floor. His hands were gripping me in places only Jack could touch, his lips were kissing on my neck. Through a haze, I saw that Emilia noticed us and she was not happy. She had stormed off but Cam was still dancing on me while he laughed. Usually in situations like these, I feel bad. But I didn't. I didn't feel anything, actually. Too buzzed.

"I wanna try something," he shouted over the music.

"Try what?"

And just like that, Cameron kisses me. It wasn't even a bad kiss. My mind said you're a single girl and I went ahead and kissed him back. But my heart reminded me where it still rests...with Jack. I pulled away and Cameron laughed. He pulled me back into him and kissed me again, this time he grabbed my ass. It startled me and I pulled away again, slapping him in the face.

. . .

Matt ended up picking me up from the party and bringing me home. I woke up in the same dress with makeup smudged across my pillow. My phone was dead and I immediately plugged it in. When it turned back on, I was slammed with text messages and voicemails....all from Jack. Apparently Emilia snapped a couple photos of Cameron & I and sent them to Jack. I knew nothing good would come of our shenanigans.

JACK: I know I stooped low, but this is even lower.
JACK: Like you have no fuckin standards.
JACK: I don't even know what I ever saw in you.

That last message hit me like a wall. I guess that's what I deserve. I was scared to listen to the voicemails...

[Voicemail 1]
I don't know why I expected you to pick up. For all I know, you're fuckin' Cam right now. That's where you two were headed by the looks of things. Whatever yo. I'm so cool with all this shit. I'm so...fuck it. Have a nice life, Lauren.

By the 2nd voicemail which was recorded an hour later, I could tell he's been drinking.

[Voicemail 2]
Do you think this is pissing me off? Because it is. But this is the last time I get mad over you. You're not even fuckin worth it anymore, Lauren. You're not fuckin worth it. This shit blew up for no reason. I went through all this shit and you feel you have to go out and be a slut. I'm done with this!

[Voicemail 3]
Why did you have to go and fuck it up? God I miss you so much, it's really killing me. It's fucking killing me inside. And you fucked it up. Emilia is nothing compared to you and I knew this since forever. Just...you just had to hook up with Cam, huh? I hate you...but that's not true is it? I still-- no, man. We're fuckin' bad for each other.

This tore me up because I could hear all the pain in his voice. I really hurt him but I never intended to.

For the remainder of the weekend, I cried constantly. By Monday morning, I was a mess. I showed up to class in sweatpants, a hoodie, and finger-combed hair. My eyes were puffy and red, you'd think I had a cold. Jack and I locked eyes as I walked in. His eyes went from blank to sad & empathetic once he saw me. He subtly shook his head and looked forward again.

"What's wrong," Mahogany asked me.

"Doesn't matter," I replied.