Chapter Text
You see Laura Hollis every single day and you’ve started to watch her.
It’s not in any sort of stalker way. I mean, when an attractive girl shares four classes with you, you tend to notice. Though something becomes very clear to you after this girl suddenly appears on your radar.
There is just something about Laura Hollis.
For one thing, the creampuff is a constant annoyance in class. She is always shooting her hand up to answer every question while also shooting off questions of her own. She’s always scribbling down notes. Even in art class, which doesn’t make any sense.
But what can you say, you spend most of class with your combat boots up on the table with your headphones in while pretending not to listen.
Plus she hangs out with the weirdest combination of friends. How do you even find that many gingers? You thought they were supposed to be going extinct or something. The only thing you do know for sure is that Laura Hollis seems to draw people to her, obviously shown by this rag tag group.
The bubbly sweet personality and general dorkiness would’ve definitely been a major turn off if you hadn’t noticed the kindness behind her actions.
This became clear after you witnessed her helping that big puppy with almost every assignment and asking questions for him when he seemed embarrassed.
Admittedly you don’t notice this until a week after you’ve convinced yourself she’s not screwing him. Not that that would bother you for any reason.
I mean, she’s hot. Why not add another girl to your rolodex of ‘study buddies’?
Though Laura Hollis is not the typical girl you would be interested in.
This much is obvious to you.
Sure all the other girls were smart enough, but this girl, you’re actually interested in what comes out of her mouth and not just what she can do with it.
You’re starting to think you need to cut yourself off from this.
Carmilla Karnstein does not get crushes.. especially on girls who still ride their bike to and from school.
Actually, now that you think about it. You’ve been watching this girl adjust her bike gears for an awfully long time. Again not at all in any stalkery type way.
You had originally stopped to retie your combat boot. It is not very punk to trip over a shoelace. Although now that you look around, you notice it must have been a while because most of all the other students have left by now.
Taking a breath, you decide to give in to yourself.
You strut towards her in your best power walk.
“Hey Cupcake, got a problem?”
The sudden noise startles her and you take pleasure in this.
“Uh, um what?” She stutters. She scans you with wide eyes. Starting from your leather pants to your growing smirk.
“Your bike, Cutie?”
“Oh.” She nods and continues to fiddle with some part of it. “It just malfunctioned or exploded or something? I’m not exactly sure what happened but I can’t ride it home like this which means I will be late getting home, where my father is most definitely waiting. That is if he isn’t calling the cops, the state guard, the FBI, CIA or other acronyms..”
She looks up at you with a playful smile which you totally do not find endearing.
What is that feeling? Gross.
“Sorry, I just rant when I’m stressed, or worried or.. breathing? And my father is a bit over-protective..”
You nod your head a bit, trying to remain casually indifferent.
“Well if you need a lift Sundance, I could always give you a ride,” you gesture nonchalantly at your black jeep parked not too far away.
“Oh, well it’s Laura, and I wouldn’t want to bother you.. and I think, I can fix it if I just-” She touches a certain part and the whole thing practically falls apart.
There’s a beat where both of you are just silently staring at the disassembled bike.
She then turns to you with a bit of grease on her face- in particular her cute nose.
“Actually a ride would be great.”
You laugh unexpectedly and gesture for her to stay while you pull your car around.
You even find yourself helping the cutie put her broken bike in the back of your car.
Pulling her car door open for her-that was a reflex or something.
Unintentional. Doesn’t mean anything.
Laura Hollis will not stop staring at you.
You pretend to not notice as she gives you the directions to her house.
You let her choose the music.
Will would bother you incessantly if he knew that. He constantly complains about your strict guidelines of ‘edgy socialist rock’ or ‘angry feminist metal’ when driving.
The little shit just doesn’t know anything about good music. And apparently, neither does Laura.
She chooses a top 40 pop station and suddenly some Taylor Swift song is blasting from your stereo. Not even new Taylor. Its an old Taylor song. Pre-Feminism Taylor.
It stays like that for a while.
“You know this is the first time we’ve talked outside of class,” Laura says.
“We were talking? I thought we were listening to the musical genius that is One Direction,” you smirk, looking back at Laura to show you’re kidding. She smiles and rolls her eyes.
“No. I just- you’re different from what I thought.”
“And what did you think, Creampuff?”
“For one thing, my name is Laura-” at this you shake your head amused “-but I don’t know. You just act all disaffected all the time. And now, I don’t know, you’re proving to be quite the hero.” Laura Hollis seemed exceptionally pleased by this.
“Well sweetheart, it wouldn’t be very punk of me to leave you to walk home with half a bike in the pouring rain.”
“Its a clear sky,” she smiled.
You shrug noncommittally.
Well that isn’t your fault. All skies seemed clearer with Laura Hollis.
“Well I guess that means LaFontaine’s wrong and you’re not actually a vampire,” Laura laughed.
“If I’m the vampire, Cupcake, does that make you my next treat?” You say that in your best seductress voice and are impressed at how low your voice gets.
“You are.. unbelievable.” Her face is taking on a deep shade of red and you’re so proud of yourself again.
You smile smugly until a thought comes to your mind.
“You know, since your bike is broken,” you say, stealing a glance at her, “I can give you a ride again tomorrow.. if you want.” It’s silent again and your words hang in the air. After a few very long seconds, you sneak a look at Laura. You’re somewhat surprised to see she’s smiling at you.
“Well, I don’t know how my father would feel about me getting into a car with a vampire.”
Of all the things you had imagined her could’ve saying, (one of them being she rejects you point blank) you were not expecting that.
“Well, can you blame him?” you ask, laughing. You gesture in her direction and continue. “Naive, provincial girl meets a dark, brooding stranger. It reads like an 18th century novella.”
“An 18th century novella?” She questions.
“With a lot of lesbian subtext,” you clarify, turning onto her street.
Laura hums and nodding her head. “Well, how would this ‘18th century novella with a lot of lesbian subtext’ end?”
You glance back at Laura before smirking.
“That’s entirely up to you, Creampuff.”
You stop in front of her house and she looks at you uncertainly.
“Thank you for the ride,” she tells you earnestly. “We should uh, definitely do this again sometime. Maybe actually talk to each other in those three classes we have together.”
Four classes.
“I think I would enjoy that very much.”
“Can I have your phone number?” You nod smiling and trade phones with each other.
You’ve been smiling a lot lately. Weird.
She gets out of the car and you meet her at the back to help her get the bike down.
She kisses you on the cheek before you can think of anything to say, and rushes inside her house with a quick, “Okay. Bye!”
You slowly walk back to the front of your car and get in.
What just happened?
Your phone vibrates.
its LAURA: Are you still parked outside my house? My father is going to get suspicious!
Shit. How long have you been sitting here?
Not A Vampire Carmilla: Um, no...
Not A Vampire Carmilla: Also, we have FOUR classes together.
its LAURA: I know :)
its LAURA: Btw a ride would be greatly appreciated 2moro
You may or may not have fist pumped.
Not A Vampire Carmilla: No problem cutie ;)
its LAURA: See you tomorrow <3
You feel yourself grinning.
Okay, maybe Carmilla Karnstein could have a crush.