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Every ounce of heat fled from Lauren’s body. They were only months from graduation. Months from her escaping to California.
“Dad,” Lauren whispered to her father who was standing next to her with his arm around her shoulders. “UCLA,” she mouthed, her eyes wide as terror rushed over her.
Understanding dawned on all of them at once. Even Sylvie went from looking angry to petrified as she clutched her mother’s hand.
“We take this very seriously as well,” Sylvie’s father started as he walked around his wife and daughter and neared the irate nun standing in her doorway. “I can assure you that Sylvia will be thoroughly punished for her role in this spat.” He glanced back expectantly at Lauren and her parents still huddled together.
Lauren’s mother reacted first, stepping forward and standing tall at Mr. Campos’ side. “Yes. I think we are all agreed that no matter who started it, the girls should not be engaging in petty squabbles. Lauren will suffer the consequences of her actions, starting with losing her car until graduation.”
Wincing, Lauren didn’t have to exaggerate the pain of such a loss. There was no way her mother was going to lie to a nun. If she said it, that meant the convertible BMW she loved so much was not seeing the outside of the garage for a while.
Sylvie stifled her laugh, but Lauren heard the amusement in her breathing. Snapping her attention to the side, Lauren glared at her.
“Sylvia will also lose her driving privileges,” Sylvie’s father echoed, earning an inaudible gasp from his suddenly unamused daughter.
“And that’s just the beginning,” Lauren’s mother promised. “I can guarantee that we will make them learn this lesson, but there is no reason to ruin either girl’s future with something like this on their record, is there? It might give their colleges the wrong impression.”
Sylvie’s dad nodded aggressively. “Yes, let’s not take official action. The girls are both very sorry for their momentary lapse in judgment.” He glanced over his shoulder as if giving them a cue. “Aren’t you, girls?”
“Of course they are,” Lauren’s father nudged her. “They’re ready to apologize for their inappropriate behavior,” he added when she didn’t move.
“Why don’t you show Sister Gloria that you’re sorry,” Sylvie’s mother prodded her daughter.
Forced to face each other, the best Lauren could do was suppress her snarl.
She wasn’t sorry. Not even a little.
Given that Sylvie couldn’t look at her without glaring, she probably regretted elbowing her in the face as much as Lauren regretted tearing out a fistful of her hair. Not one bit.
“Lou,” her father bent down to whisper in her ear. “Pídele perdón,” he instructed, ordering her to apologize.
Lauren wanted her mouth to move. It was bad enough that she’d probably be grounded with no car, no phone, no TV, and no friends for months. She really didn’t want Sylvie to ruin college for her too.
When Sylvie’s mom whispered something in her ear, her shoulders dropped but her lips remained sealed. She couldn’t bring herself to apologize either.
As soon as Sister Gloria started to speak, Lauren blurted the magic words under threat of force. “I’m sorry Sylvie.”
I’m sorry you’re such an insufferable mutant, she thought before plastering a smile on her face.
“Me too,” Sylvie replied so fast it was nearly unintelligible. When her mother pushed her with her elbow, she sighed and gritted her teeth. “I’m sorry, Lauren.”
“Now hug it out, girls,” Sylvie’s dad added as he opened his eyes wide, indicating they better play along. “You want Sister Gloria to see you’re sincere, don’t you? Assure her that this is not going to happen again.”
There were easily a thousand things Lauren would rather do than hug Sylvie, but she also sensed Sister Gloria wasn’t buying their cardboard apologies. Like ripping off a bandage, Lauren closed the gap as Sylvie took two pained steps forward.
Awkwardly, Lauren leaned in to the coldest hug ever recorded as she barely touched her rival. Sylvie unexpectedly pulled her in tight, crushing her as she pressed her lips to her ear.
“Patty is a really good kisser,” Sylvie whispered as she squeezed her tight.
Instead of body-slamming her to the ground like she wanted, Lauren held her so tight she could’ve given her the Heimlich maneuver. “So is your mom.”
“Okay, why don’t you girls go back to class,” Lauren’s dad said as he pried her out of their hostile embrace.
“Here, put your sweater on,” Lauren’s mother chimed in as she yanked off the dark blue cotton sweatshirt wrapped around Lauren’s waist. “It’ll cover your shirt.”
Eager to erase the signs of their fight, both mothers set to making them look composed again.
“While I’m here, Sister Gloria,” Sylvie’s dad started as if they could distract the nun long enough to free them. “I’ve been meaning to make a donation to the school. You know for the orphanage,” he added, reaching back to his wife who had started rifling through her purse.
