Not Quite the Opposites (camren)

8 - Everything My Heart Sees

Standing in front of my wide bathroom mirror, I was contemplating if I was dressed well. If I was underdressed or overdressed. Camila was coming and I was in a pair of jean shorts and an oversized shirt. I mean, I usually am in these things when I'm at home. I might as well show her who I am.

The shower floor had trails of sediments leading down the drain. They were forming rays around the square shaped grills, looking like a four-cornered sun. But there were probably too much sand there and I was particularly dry that morning.

I went to bed and pulled my blanket off the bed only to find more sand. What the heck did I do yesterday? I could only wish I did not get laid out of my own lucid will. Contemplating on the possibility, it felt as if a freezing cold rain was drenching my shoulders as I cringed.

I hurriedly went downstairs to grab the vacuum cleaner and salvage what I could with my wreckage of a room. My room is usually tidy but the very frustrating cell phone hunt made me realize how much of an impatient person with a hangover I am. I tossed clothes on the floor to the hamper, fixed my bed, tidied up my desk.

I made sure I brought all my books from my locker for the weekend-long study session I promised myself which was rather painful on my back given the weight of the hardbound pages. I set them on the living room coffee table while I continued to tidy up my bathroom.

The doorbell went off just in time but maybe too soon until I saw my face in the bathroom mirror. My hair was disheveled from the constant hunching down. I shook my head and combed my hair with my hands. I then slipped a purple beanie over my head just because I felt like it. I was just supposed to be satisfied with that for now given the person waiting behind my front door.

"Hey!" I heard my father's voice roar immediately after I heard the front door open. "Which sibling?" He merrily asked, barely containing his happiness. He liked knowing his children are fitting in well. He was about to laugh and I was counting down from three.

Two. One. Just in time, my father's chuckle could be heard, resonating from downstairs.

I could only imagine my friend's discomfort with my very welcoming father. He wasn't as welcoming with Jette though. To my surprise, the brown-eyed brunette returned the gesture by laughing with him. I should give my father some credit with how funny he is to Camila.

"Lauren, sir." She gasped as she finished her laughing fit.

"Oh! I figured you'd be Taylor's friend." My father sounded surprised. Seriously, dad? I thought to myself. "She's the nicer sister." He continued with a quieter voice, I assumed he was trying to keep it a secret.

I had to admit; Taylor is much nicer than I am. She is just too compassionate and too understanding. I can not deny that she has more friends than I do; real friends. She effortlessly socializes with them and leaves a mark on their lives even with the limited amount of time we spend in a city or town.

My little sister cares enough to actually be willing to save my butt from my parents' wrath.

"Lauren isn't so bad, sir." Camila cautiously answered. She sounded a little too uncomfortable for my liking.

With what seemed to be an eternity of laughing, my dad finally said, "I'm Mike. Don't call me sir." He began with his friendly tone. "You can even call me Papa. Come in..." He paused, anticipating her name.

"Camila, sir." She timidly retorted.

That was my cue. Before my dad could even protest about the "sir" calling, I began to ran down the stairs to join the two in conversation, yelling, "Ok, dad!" I breathed heavily from my sprint. My heart instantly picked up pace. "I got it from here."

They both looked to my direction with smiles on their faces, my father's was mischievous. There could be something I did not hear. But I was ridiculously excited to see a certain brunette.

Camila was actually having a good time conversing with my father. My friends talked to him but they didn't really make them laugh as much as he did with her, and they did not engage him too much to talk like her. There's something special about that girl.

"Hey Camz!" I waved at her as soon as I was at the foot of the stairs, beaming at her brightly. My cheeks instantly felt sore from too much smiling. I did not realize I had been uncomfortably grinning since I descended the stairs.

"Hi Lo!" She greeted me with the same warmth and excitement, and yet still without a hug or any sort of physical contact.

I was secretly hurt by the deficiency but her presence seemed to be enough for me. At least my last memory of her wasn't her back slowly being devoured by the darkness while vultures were waiting to devour me with alcohol.

I expected my little palpitating heart to slow down as I was standing next to my father. But it didn't. Instead, it sped up as I inspected my friend's rather fresh aura. She was wearing white shorts, a royal blue tank underneath a gray cardigan that had a little bow by the left chest. Camila just popped. She popped in more places than I could admit; just like my cardiovascular organ.

"It was nice meeting you, Camila." My dad said with a smile. "Make yourself at home, mija."

"It was my pleasure, si...Papa Mike." She stammered, recalling Mike Jauregui's request. Her face lit up as soon as my father chuckled.

"Let's go?" I asked as my father turned his back on us, heading upstairs.

I was more than surprised to find my classmate with an utter lack of books or any kind of notebook. I mean, we were supposed to be studying. She can't possibly have the smallest tablet or laptop in her pocket. I feared it would be just studying with Jette which meant not studying at all.

I chose to ignore it and led her to the living room where all my school things were piled up. There was a little mug filled with pens and pencils along with some rulers and highlighters. My nerd side was showing and yet I did not feel the slightest bit of discomfort.

We both sat on the floor for some reason, facing each other on either side of the coffee table. The couch was behind her and I was facing away from the flat screen TV.

"So" I started, picking out a black pen from the mug and opening a blue notebook up to the middle pages. "Music class?" I wanted the homework done and over with before I began to study for everything else.

Without further questions, she agreed. She didn't seem to mind all the school related items on the table. Instead, she pulled folded pieces of paper from her back pocket and straightened them out on the table. She took her smart phone out as well and set it right next to the papers.

One sheet looked like her class schedules while the other was filled with scribbles that looked like pointers from each classes she had sat in over the course of a week. That was the document I was looking for.

"There's no strict rules, really." Camila began as she leaned closer to the table. "You just have to make a song at the end of the term which will be your final project. But I mean, you should probably count the syllables seeing as it's easier that way." She took a deep breath and looked at me straight in the eyes to see if I was paying attention.

I nodded, signaling for her to keep going.

"Over the course of the year, we will learn how to write music with all the sheet music and things. You may choose to listen to Miss Peterson or not as long as you got everything down." She continued to explain and then giggled.

I shook my head with a smile on my face. I was finding her more adorable with her weird goofy and shy mixture. "You do listen though?" I probed.

"Yeah." She simply answered, shrugging her shoulders. "That way I have an excuse not to study." She bobbed her brows with a sly toothless grin.

"I take notes, by the way." The slightly shorter brunette defended. "But it's the start of the year and teachers take it easy on us."

I was right about her not studying.

"Do you want to do it now?" Camila probed. "I can read something while you write it." She proposed.

I agreed with her. She leaned her back on the couch and took her phone, drawing it by her chest to read something that I completely have no idea about. Her brows furrowed as she slowly immersed herself in the story. Her plump lips were in a straight line exuding no particular emotion yet I focused on them like my eyes were glued.

I was starting to think about how it would feel like to kiss her. My eyes widened as my thoughts ran rampant. I shook my head as I realized my blatant staring coupled by what seemed to be taboo thoughts.

With my eyes adjusted on the lined paper in front of me, I tapped my pen, thinking about how to start my lyrics. It was not the first time I have ever written them. I just didn't want to use some old material.

What to write about? I looked around to find inspiration only to be confronted by the smooth and endless lines that surrounded the house. Everything seemed to just be black and white, dull until my eyes landed to the person perpendicular to me.

Cosmic manipulation. I thought. The phrase I had uttered when I was talking to her over the phone. I was confronted by narrowed, yet glistening eyes that made my heart beat a thousand times faster and my stomach crumble in a way that had never happened before. That was the spark, the big bang that I needed to start my creative writing.

I felt my eyes become heavy as it felt a little sore after almost half an hour of writing and thinking. My head had resumed the particularly irritable throbbing that made my head seem like it was contracting. My hangover was taking a toll on me. I rubbed my eyes and blinked rapidly to find relief.

"Are you okay?" The brown-eyed brunette asked carefully, leaning closer this time as she put her phone down. "Are you worried about anything?"

I sighed. "Hangover." I quietly replied, hoping my father wasn't eavesdropping.

Camila slowly nodded as she pursed her lips. It was as if she was disappointed in me. Why didn't you take me home with you then? I rambled in my thoughts defensively. Why was I being defensive anyway? It felt as if I really wanted her to assert her stance against Jette or just drag me with her, I wouldn't have minded either way.

"How's being back in Miami so far?" She diverted the subject as I rubbed my temples, sensing the uncomfortable silence. "How's your boyfriend?"

I didn't mind the questions. As much as possible, I wanted to avoid what happened last night. It was as if the slightest reminder of my being in the beach caused a wave of discomfort that made me question my convictions.

"It's been crazy." I breathed, cupping my face. "Which reminds me; can you please remind me I have to call him after we go over everything?"

I looked up at her questioningly with my brows raised.

She flashed a compassionate half smile and nodded. "Sure."

It was one of the most casual conversations I had with the brunette in front of me. It was as if we were just speaking and not talking. The mention of my boyfriend and the things I had written on my notebook started to make me uncomfortable. It was sweet, maybe poetic. It was about love but it wasn't about my love. I am screwed.

"I made you two sandwiches." My dad emerged with a tray of food and two glasses of orange juice, snapping me out of my brooding. "There's some tortilla chips and some dip, too."

I was beyond anxious about him hearing about the conversation concerning my hangover. The mere thought of his disappointed face made me recoil. I take pride in making my parents happy which is making me question I even came home wasted.

"You didn't really have to do that, sir. But thank you." Camila interjected before I could even respond.

My father tilted his head as he lowered the tray down to the coffee table. "What did I tell you?" He looked at the younger girl with a smirk, reminding her of their conversation.

"Papa...Mike." She said, unsure. It sounded more like a question.

Dad chuckled as he stretched his hand out, palm facing Camila for a high five. "That's more like it."

My friend obliged which was quite endearing. My headache was intensifying as the conversation progressed. I was skeptical as to why my father was being too friendly with her. He is friendly but not that friendly. I quickly stood up and grabbed my father's arm to drag him to the other room.

"Excuse us, Camz." I said before we turned a corner, smiling at her. "Help yourself with the food."

I brought my father to the kitchen to make sure we would not be heard at all. Mike Jauregui looked to be in a mixture of confused and revolted as I situated us in front of the sink. I massaged my forehead, barely keeping it together.

I paced from side to side, only stopping to talk to him.

"Why are you being too friendly, Michael Jauregui?" I scolded him, leaning close to his face to intimidate him.

My father took his head back in disbelief. "I'm always friendly." He defended. "I should be offended you didn't call me 'dad'." He crossed his arms and I expected him to be enraged. Instead, he had a smirk on his face. I couldn't believe it; a smirk.

I huffed in frustration. "You're being too friendly. Keyword: too." I repeated, putting an emphasis on the word.

Dad chuckled at my obvious distress. "I know more things than you do, Lauren Michelle."

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face him. "Like what?"

"You just have to learn it on your own." The older man shrugged as she dunked his hands in his pockets.

"Why can't you just tell me?" I asked him harshly.

I hated a lot of things. I hated being manipulated. I hated being laughed at when I'm aggravated. I hated not knowing what others do. I never cared if people said I was uptight.

"Where's the fun in that?" He looked at me with a sly grin.

I groaned.

"Where? Everywhere to you; nowhere to me." I mocked his answer, nodding my head to emphasize my point. I folded my arms.

"You flare your nose when you're angry." My dad commented humorously, pointing at the specific smelling organ.

I looked at him knowingly, making sure I looked unimpressed.

"Just go and study with your friend." He encouraged me to which I obliged, walking back to the door only to swivel back to look at him.

"Friend." I furrowed my brows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Instead of answering me, my father turned to his back and ignored me like I didn't exist.

I joined Camila back in the living room only to find her reading again while eating a sandwich. She was still concentrating on whatever book she was reading until she looked up to me and asked if everything was ok.

The lyrics were almost done which made me ask the brunette to commence the studying. She was easily swayed and asked for my schedule, carefully comparing hers and mine for the classes and the respective teachers.

Her Mondays and Thursdays were as packed as mine. Despite the congestion, other than music and homeroom, we only had one other class together, College Marketing. This should be interesting.

Camila told me all there is to know about the teachers and their teaching styles including what I probably missed on the first week of school. She's actually very perceptive which I like about her. I was to test her perception in a casual setting but I reserved that for when we are done.

"No way!" She exclaimed as she eyed the piece of paper in her hand that had my classes. "AP Art History. You have Miss Dubose?" She held her chest and chuckled lightly.

"I know." I gave her an unconvincing smile as I sighed.

She narrowed her eyes at me, stopping in her tracks. "You've felt her wrath already?"

"Pretty much." I nodded with a sour expression on my face. It's your fault. I was thinking about you.

Camila clapped her hands together as her body shook with her laughter. It wasn't long until I laughed along with her. Her express amusement was just contagious. It sounded a little goofy but joyful in its core.

She took a big gulp of air before she spoke. "She loves the boys and hates the smart girls." She shook her head as she wiped her damp eyes. "I don't know if you noticed but she does discuss by the book and with numerous sources. If she asks you to answer a question, make it clear and concise. You won't be in trouble then."

"Got it." I stated. It was more than what Jette had told me. She is more than Jette though.

"What kind of history is it now? Stick to that and read from other sources as well." She asked, furrowing her brows as she continued to read my schedule.

"She's starting with Japanese." I retorted, watching the slightest quiver of her muscles; her blinking, her brow movements, her lips.

"Samurais and Geishas." We said in unison.

Our laughter resounded in the room once again. I had never thought learning would be this fun. I clutched my stomach as it started to hurt from all my pleasant muscle contractions. Camila threw her head back, leaning on the couch as she guffawed. Oh, Camila.

"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter." Camila mumbled with her eyes still on the paper, concluding our bellowing and making me gasp for air.

I nodded, composing myself. "E.E. Cummings." I muttered, realizing where she got the quote from.

She looked at me with widened eyes and brows as far as it can go. All of a sudden, her features softened and her eyes looked at me with endearment for some reason. It could have been something else but I stand by what I saw.

"Don't look at me like that." I said feeling a little self-conscious. I brushed my hair back and held my head low.

I wasn't at all offended about her being surprised. It just made me question if I got the author right. What is going on with you, Lauren?

She shook her head. "I...I just...haven't met anyone who shared the same interest as I do." She explained. "I mean, I've always just been criticized for reading too much books."

We do have something in common.

"It's ok. Trust me." I began, scrunching my nose up. "I have a lot of books upstairs. Do you want to come take a look at them?"

Camila agreed to my proposition. We went up to my room and I showed her the books that were piled in two stacks on my desk. There were probably twenty of them. I have read all of them and enjoyed some more than the others.

My friend ran her fingers through the books and stopped at "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand. She carefully pulled out the specific book and sat on the chair, reading the back cover.

As she read through the writings, I was seemingly reading her like an open book which had blank pages while I sat on the edge of my bed. I only had a glimpse of the kind of person Camila is which is the preface, so to speak. From the surface she is sweet and caring. She's laidback and insightful. I have yet to acknowledge who she is under pressure or in any other setting unlike what I have seen her in and that was what mystified me about her. I just had to know more.

"I've heard about this." She said without looking at me, again. "I heard this is good."

"It's considered as her magnum opus." I agreed.

I was going to explain the meaning of the Latin phrase only to find out she already knows.

"Greatest work." We said in accord.

We had natural chemistry and I was proud about that. Like her, I've never really met anyone who had the same interest as me. Maybe it was because of the fact that I didn't let them. I was being safe with the "bitches" of the school and drinking with them which is practically the complete opposite of safe.

With Camila, it seemed innate and not forced. Everything just seemed to be in place.

"Take it." I encouraged.

She made sure I was positive about lending it to her a couple of times before she agreed. Camila might be willing to help out with no questions asked, but she somehow seemed reluctant to receive the favor back. I had scratched the surface now.

"We're going to Ally's tomorrow night." She sounded a little apprehended. She was probably bracing for rejection. "Do you want to come? It's just Dinah, Normani and Ally." She shrugged her shoulders. "And...me."

My heart was swelling with adoration for her. For some reason, my inner child was jumping like crazy; reaching heights that would physically be impossible no matter how far I retract my legs. I was ecstatic to be spending more time with her.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked coyly.

"Just hang out." She simply retorted.

I nodded failing to fight the smile that spread across my features. "I'll come."

She mirrored my gesture making her brown eyes glisten like sand against the sun. "I'll pick you up."

I frowned, thinking about my brother's reaction from that morning. I was sure he would detain me in the house like a prisoner on house arrest. I would have been grounded for months if my parents found out. I luckily have the best relationship with my siblings and they covered up for me.

"Do you feel better now?" Camila queried, looking at my green orbs. "I mean, physically."

She sensed my distress. How weird is that? It was weirdly satisfying.

"I do." I answered simply, hoping not to overdo it and accidentally show my real emotions. I really do.

"It's time to call your boyfriend." She beamed at me as she clutched onto the book, holding it against her chest.

"Shoot." I groaned as I collided my forehead with my palm. "I forgot!"

I quickly stood up, patting my pockets to look for my phone. I remembered leaving it in the living room.

Camila giggled as she ascended from the cushioned seat. "I'll get going so you two can have some alone time...somehow." She held the book up, shaking it slightly. "Thanks for this. I'll give it back when I finish it."

"Take your time."

We walked down the stairs towards the door where I thanked her for helping me study. She thanked me again for the book and for the food, and waved goodbye. Still no hug. What was it with me and hugging her anyway?

My disappointment led me towards the living room. I sighed as I assumed my previous position, finding my phone on top of the blue notebook I wrote my lyrics in.

I peeled the paperback cover revealing a little neon green paper with Camila's handwriting on it.

"Worrying does not empty tomorrow of its troubles, it empties today of its strength."

"Corrie ten Boom." I whispered.

I found myself smiling like a little i***t as I shook my head in disbelief. There I was struggling to figure my friend out while she effortlessly unearthed my quiet thoughts while appeasing the tension I had felt.

-

I had finished studying for all of my classes before the afternoon of the next day. It was practically a crash course that I desperately needed to take. I was incredibly relieved that my inner nerd had managed to accomplish the painstakingly varied subjects. I even finished my lyrics the previous day.

Camila had sent me a text about the time she will pick me up and I was putting make-up on, sitting in front of my desk when I heard a knock.

"Come in!" I exclaimed as I intently focused on my eyes.

Soon after, the door swung open and revealed my stern looking brother through his reflection on the small mirror I was using.

He crossed his arms as he firmly stood underneath the door from. "Lauren, are you going to drink again?" He queried condescendingly.

Chris' behavior was due to the events of the previous day which I cringe with just the slightest memory of. The discomfort was severely worsened by the fact that I still don't remember everything that had unfolded during that embarrassingly wasted night.

I dropped my shoulders as I sighed. I could not deny the stinging sensation within my chest. "No. I won't." I dropped the make up products on the table.

"Seriously, Lauren" He huffed frustratingly as he ran his hand through his hair. "I can't keep lying for you. I won't."

I swiveled to face my brother. "I know." I stood up and walked towards him. "Stop being a parent. I need my brother." I beamed at him, hoping he would reciprocate.

My brother closed his eyes and shook his head. "Just go." He reluctantly stated as he turned to get out of the room only to stop in his tracks to give me a reminder. "Come back before 12 or mom and dad will know what happened yesterday."

I rolled my eyes as I dropped my head to the back, earning me his first smile. He chuckled soon after and I was more than elated at the gesture. He then made his way down stairs.

I stood there, holding onto the door knob. "Thank you, Chris!" I called out.

I went back to sitting in front of the little mirror and smiled to myself. I had a good feeling about Camila and the rest of her - well, our friends. I needed a break from all the studying and practically escape the memory of my drinking two nights previously.

I found it quite unnerving when I realized how excited I was to spend time with Camila. It was as if I had successfully but unconsciously associated her with euphoria and she was a mere friend and nothing more. At one point I did feel this way for my boyfriend and I don't recall having such keenness to hang out with an ordinary friend.

The more I thought about it, I had realized that I have been bound by something that is preventing me from seeing the bigger pictures. It was as if there were shackles latched onto my wrists and my ankles. I was a prisoner of some sort yet I see light somewhere and the most prominent and the brightest belonged to a girl called Camila Cabello.

A horn blasted and snapped me out of my daze and I instantly knew it was the girl I had been waiting for. I checked my reflection one last night and winked at myself as I beamed. I was too happy to contain it.

I grabbed my phone and wallet and made my way down the stairs and through the door to the familiar Chevrolet pick up truck with the driver's window down and the driver grinning brightly. The way her eyes glistened with glee was impeccably noticeable.

I could almost feel my heart leap as it skipped a beat while I mirrored the gesture and waving slightly. "Hey Camz!" I said in greeting.

"Hi Lo!" She retorted in a typical playful manner given the contradiction of the words "high" and "low" that rhymed with the way she greeted me. She c****d her head to the passenger side to invite me in. "Hop in!"

It was probably instinct of me to expect a hug or a cheek to cheek kiss but Camila never gave me any of those. We were on the road and we made small talk about my catching up with my classes and I prided myself with the completion of my song lyrics. The best she did was give me a high five from the news that I had just broke to her. A congratulatory high five; really?

Camila had come to a stop in front of a comfortable looking house painted in earth tones with the roof in terracotta tiles. The windows had black painted classic window grills, forming diamonds on the four corners. The hardwood door immediately flung open as my driver switched the engine off.

The door revealed a jumping Ally who had a wide grin spread across her face. I climbed out of the car while Camila immediately ran towards her and gave her a hug. I might have been a little jealous but I was completely enjoying the view. Camila's plump behind was perked out. Her light skinny jeans accentuated it quite well. She wore a regular navy blue v-neck shirt that just made her simplicity and beauty shine.

Ally wrapped her arms around me as soon as she let go of Camila. "It's good to see you again, Lauren."

"You, too, Ally!" I said, easing into the hug.

Camila had managed to slip into the house while Ally and I were latched onto each other and apparently found the rest of the girls.

"Hey lady!" Normani said from the next room. "Hi Lauren!" She exclaimed loud enough for me to hear.

I smiled in Ally's embrace and slowly pulled away. Dinah suddenly showed up before I could take a step inside the house and devoured my body in hers, holding tighter than the shorter Ally.

"Glad you could come, Laurenza!" She said and I chuckled at my new nickname and her tight grip.

"Me, too, Dinah Jane." I chimed in, genuinely happy to be around the four girls I have come to call my friends.

We stepped into the house and I found myself in a spacious living room where Normani and Camila were silently talking; the latter had a bag of potato chips in her hands.

"Lauren!" The ebony skinned girl exclaimed as she shoved the bag of chips to Camila and approached me.

Well, that's three out of four girls. I thought. I was so confused as to why Camila wouldn't even touch me so much as a hug. It made me feel as though I carry a virus that would melt her skin seconds within contact. Despite the lack of physical contact, she had seemed to actually enjoy my company as well.

We settled in for a movie that we all had agreed on. It was a romantic comedy which delivered on both the romance and comedic timing. It was of this two people who could not stand each other but had to take care of a baby together as godparents.

I was seated next to Ally who was next to Normani on the couch. Camila was perpendicularly sitting on Dinah's lap as they cuddled together in one of the chairs that went with the couch. Yes, Lauren, they're cuddling. The Polynesian's arm was protectively wrapped around Camila and rested her hands on her hip bone. As for Camila's arms, they were around Dinah's neck and her hands were on the taller girl's shoulder.

I felt a commotion inside my pocket and I quickly snatched it up to find a new message from Gavin which read; "Hi baby! How are you? What are you doing?"

I wanted to feel happy that someone was demanding for my attention but it was just weirdly hooked onto the younger Latina like a leech.

I reluctantly replied saying, "I'm at a friend's. We're watching a movie."

For some reason, from past experiences, I knew what my boyfriend would ask after my response. I held the phone against my chest as I went back to watching the movie while waiting for his reply.

The next time my phone buzzed, the message read; "Which friend? Who's with you?"

I was right. Gavin's jealous tendencies would get the better of him all the time. I don't necessarily like it but I don't mind. I love him.

I sighed as I typed; "We're at Ally's. I'm with Camila, Dinah and Normani...and well, Ally."

When my phone vibrated again, it was a long lingering sensation, unlike the typical text message. It was a call. Gavin was calling. I huffed in frustration. I was getting all worked up and it wasn't just because of my jealous boyfriend. As much as I denied it, it was because of Camila's reluctance to even hug me.

I tapped Ally's shoulder and pointed to the phone, excusing myself. I walked to the hall and stood by the front door. I brushed my hair back as I mustered a smile; hoping the rest of my mood would follow suit. I took a deep breath and answered the call.

"Hi babe!" I greeted cautiously. "What's up?"

Gavin did not even say anything unnecessary. Instead, he went right down to business. "Why Camila? You spend so much time with her now. Is she replacing me?" He pined, genuinely sounding hurt.

Why Camila? If you lived in my head you'd be hurt. I thought. I took a deep breath as my pulse picked up pace. I furrowed my brows.

I had talked to him after Camila had left and told him of the study date the previous day and now that I think about it, he was not all too pleased about the news.

I scratched the back of my neck, slightly exasperated. "Of course, she's not. She's my friend, Gavin." I defended. "What do you want me to do? Stay in the house all day?" I grumbled, sounding a little too aggravated than I planned.

My heart raced as I could feel my anger building up like lava rising to the crater of the volcano; gradual but precise. I had glared at the ground, imagining his face. I paced up and down the hall; I was certain I had created a gorge.

"I'm sorry." He muttered apologetically. "I just miss you so much it hurts."

Instead of fighting, I took a lungs-worth of air in, hoping to calm my nerves. "It's fine." I breathed. "I miss you, too." I halfhearted said.

"Go join your friends and watch that movie." He encouraged. "I'm sorry, Lauren. I love you."

The rarity of him calling me by my name is staggering. The only few times he does call me that is when he's cautious and he was given the tension in my voice. I massaged my temples as my head started to hurt from all the thinking.

"Ok. I love you, too." I agreed without thinking twice about it.

I went back to the living room only to find all the girls on their feet and looking too excited. I looked to Camila who was also grinning from ear to ear. I wondered what had happened after I left but didn't have to when Ally spoke.

"We're going to the garage, Lauren." She enthusiastically stated as she held onto my hand and dragged me to the specific room.

I didn't expect much when she said garage. I mean, I've had my fair share of assisting my father in fixing his car but I wasn't too keen on doing that with them. However, instead of old rusty tools and a significant scent of gear oil and gasoline, I was greeted by musical instruments within the white painted walls. The one side are black amplifiers that were stacked up and wires sprawled everywhere. To the backmost part of the room had a living room set and shelves that had books and writing tools, I assumed Ally studies there.

I was in shock and my face showed my reaction as my jaw dropped and my eyes widened.

"Let's jam out to Ed Sheeran!" Camila exclaimed, taking the classic guitar. The girls exclaimed in unison and ran to their desired musical instrument and left me there, by the door, stunned.

Ally giggled at me as she took the electric guitar. I shook my head to snap out of the daze.

"What instrument do you play, Lauren?" Normani asked, picking up the bass guitar.

Dinah sat behind the basic drum set and picked up the drumsticks enthusiastically as she banged the snare, making a drum roll. She was good.

I could hear Camila finger picking the guitar as she twisted tuning keys. She was aimlessly staring at the floor while concentrating on her hearing.

"Uh...I play the piano but it's similar to the keyboards." I said shrugging my shoulders.

"Perfect!" Ally chimed in eagerly. "We're not as comfortable with the keyboards. You're just the girl we're looking for."

Dinah winked at me with a wide grin on her face. "Let's rock, Jauregui!"

The girls and I laughed. I took my place behind the keyboard, brushing my hands against the white and black keys, familiarizing the feel of the instrument. I wiggled my fingers and moved my wrists to different directions. I cracked my neck and then my digits and I was all set.

We decided on playing "Give Me Love" which was Camila's idea. We made sure we all knew the words and the chords before we attempted to do our rendition of the song. The girls with axes eased us into the first verse starting with the A-minor chord which I was tasked to sing.

It would be an understatement if I said I was just nervous. I was freaking out. I was internally psyching myself up in my head until it was time to sing and my gaze was immediately set on a particularly beautiful brunette.

"Give me love, like her." I started feeling more emotion for the line than I had expected. Like her; like the love you give Dinah. "Cause lately I've been waking up alone." I closed my eyes as I uttered the next lines, immersing myself in the words and the melody. My raspy voice was all I could hear other than my constant beating and at times deafening heart.

"And that I'll fight my corner." Normani crooned the next four lines, making the song her own.

Dinah hit the crash cymbal just as we all started to play the chorus which was Camila's turn. "Give a little time to me. We'll burn this out." Her eyes were shut tight as her forehead creased. Her voice resounded in the room and it seemed as if my heart could hear when it beat ferociously within my chest cavity, timing with Dinah's beating of the padded drums.

Her voice was so unique and inviting that I could not help but close my eyes as well, careful not to mess up with the keys. I was genuinely enjoying her voice, plunging deep into the depths of her and my emotions.

Ally and Dinah sang the remaining verses and I waited intently for Camila's turn at the chorus. Eights lines after, she was back and with more emotions to divulge. I was unconsciously singing along with her as I fixated my gaze on my friend again.

"To turn this around." I silently muttered and before I knew it, I was singing on a lower register, complementing Camila's higher one. I sang louder, too.

For a moment, I could feel eyes plastered on me like spectators who wanted me. I looked down on the keys and kept singing which let the brown-eyed brunette do graceful runs that made sent shivers down my spine and goose bumps to erupt on my skin.

It was an intense riff that followed the last chorus and we all just played our hearts out. It was the kind of thing I wanted to do to waste my time away, play music and with the people who I am proud to call my friends.