Not Quite the Opposites (camren)

5 - Among Everything, We Choose the One that Makes Us Happy

We may not realize it at first but life throws us little tests to help us make crucial choices in the future.

If only it appeared more blatant, something that would practically slap you hard across the face and not inconspicuously wrapped as an ordinary object we can easily shrug off.

It would be helpful, life. Thank you.

All the deception and camouflage would almost guarantee making mistakes.Then again, we may need the lesson to forge our maturity. After all, we will not quite get to know the impact of certain choices by living them vicariously.

That would ineffective, if not, cowardly.

I had expected my premature infatuation towards my new friend as something that would only excite me as of the present and would gradually decrease over time. I've seen quite a lot of beautiful women and men that I've found breathtakingly attractive but they've all ended up ordinary in the end.

Keeping that in mind, I was almost positive that I would choose my boyfriend over Camila.

I, of course, was unaware that I had just made my first mistake; hasty assumption.

I was already failing the first test - the easiest by far.

When the girls stood up to head for their respective classes, my phone's display lit up as it rattled freely on the table from the jolting force within the small device. On instinct, I looked down to check who it was and surprisingly, I didn't feel excitement bubble like a piping hot concoction.

Among all the things that are surprising, the caller wasn't one of them. It was Gavin.

I hate it when my phone vibrates or rings but he hates it more if I don't pick up. I do hate unnecessary squabbles, though. It was a dilemma that I chose to overlook for him. Because you know, I'm good at this relationship thing.

Well, not really.

I had to make a choice then. It was either to entertain my boyfriend or remain present and involved in the situation with Camila in it. It would be helpful to note that little detail.

While it wasn't much of a conundrum as to why Gavin called, I was quite baffled to find myself ignoring the call; which, in essence, was ignoring him. What was more surprising was how easy it was, as if the choice had already been made even before I was given options.

I absentmindedly held my phone in my hands just to soothe the nagging in my brain that told me to tend to the device but I didn't do anything beyond hitting the volume button to cease the vibration.

I was preoccupied at the moment. My gaze was plastered on the girls that were getting farther from Camila and I with each step they took.

"Hey, Mila!" Dinah bellowed at an abrupt stop, swiftly turning back around to our direction. By her tone alone, anyone could tell mischief was underway. "Give Lauren your number. In case she needs rescuing from the Empress of Fakeness."

I couldn't help but blow air out of my nose, finding the humor in Dinah's concern for my well-being. At least, I assumed it was that. I wasn't quite sure. I did stop myself from laughing, though but the others didn't offer the same courtesy for our less than impressed Camila. Ally and Normani's giggling were prominently contesting the various conversations surrounding us.

The problem was, Camila wasn't too pleased.

Her features crumpled in mild disapproval that could have definitely been worse. The opportunity to read her expressions further was robbed from me when she dropped her head down, completely defeated by their shenanigans. Her shoulders were tensed and rigid as if she was bracing for a commotion of some sort, and her body was gearing up to stifle the impact.

Or maybe, it was her way of preventing herself from being the explosion that would start a pandemonium.

I didn't laugh and I didn't provoke Camila into a certain reaction. I didn't do anything.

Although, now that I've thought about it, I had done one of the greatest mistakes a human being was bound to do to preserve themselves; to evaluate their conscience to rid it of culpability, of fault and of guilt. And because of that, I had forgone the chance to be at Camila's aid.

It may have been far less trivial to be concern with but I feared that it could lead to grave mistakes in the future.

And right then and there, I didn't want to be blameless. I wanted to be one of those who tried to remedy the situation.

I should have said something but I didn't because at the time, it was...amusing.

Well done, Lauren.

Instead of an explosive reaction, Camila raised an index finger at Dinah, quietly warning her. And just when I thought she would speak...she sighed again. It was noticeably deep, as if she was emptying out her lungs to inhale something positive immediately after.

And as I dug deeper, she had just prevented herself from speaking something she would regret, leading her to rethink her words.

I was floored and I couldn't tell if she refused to speak horribly of another person or if Jette was quite simply a sore subject.

And somehow, somewhere within me, I was hoping it wasn't the latter.

"Just go, Dinah." Camila mumbled through gritted teeth and through the tension, I easily picked out some desperation in her voice.

The three girls only erupted in laughter - louder this time, completely disregarding Camila's stance and her discomfort, which was a little disturbing to me.

I took a moment to evaluate myself. It surprised me to learn that as much as I wanted to reprimand our friends for Camila's sake, I was more agitated by the unknown reason that I was dying to figure out.

I wanted to know why she was acting that way. I wanted to know what was bothering her. I wanted to know if Jette meant anything to her. I wanted to know if she was just as chivalrous as she seemed and saved everyone from being cruelly dissected with gossip that are oftentimes without substance but a product of jealous teenage minds.

In simple terms, I wanted to get to know Camila.

"Lauren," Camila waved her hands in front of me, trying to catch my attention. Her eyes were wide as her gaze darted between my own greens and the device in my hand; concern written all over her face and it seemed to have snapped me out of my musings. "Answer it."

I had actually forgotten about the phone call that I had been waiting for. Gavin and I had talked about using my lunch break to our advantage, to keep in contact as if I never left San Diego in the first place despite the blatant fact that I did move to Miami.

Practically shoved back down to earth, clarity made me see how I normally would snatch the phone up and have it engage in a passionate make out session with my ear but I was far too preoccupied to even acknowledge anything else.

"Huh?" I shook my head, literally shaking myself out of my thoughts. "Sorry. Sorry."

I shot Camila a flustered grin, which she returned with a little chuckle and a wave of dismissal. It felt as though she was aware of the dilemma and chose to momentarily ignore me to take the other option away, forcing me to a tunnel with only the phone in my hand waiting for me at the very end.

In all honesty, I preferred a detour.

I probably shouldn't have let out a sigh but I did.

I probably shouldn't have been reluctant to slide my thumb across the screen to accept the call but I was.

"Hello?" I softly mumbled, unknowingly lowering my voice to an intimate extent as I leaned against my phone.

"Hey babe!" Gavin excitedly retorted amid a huff of relief that followed, which was quite unexpected. He even sounded...apologetic. "Is this a bad time? I'm sorry. I forgot you were going to be ahead an hour more than I initially though."

I let out a soft chuckle as I sensed his distress. My confusion for his remorse had translated into amusement after I realized I liked the less tenacious version of him. It was as if his grip on my throat had loosened with his demeanor.

Exacting had always been a word I acquainted with Gavin in the long enough time that we've known each other. It was odd, really, just because it seemed that all the adjusting would come from me, and it was him, who was supposed to be in love with me.

And to have him a little less taxing was a breath of fresh air or a refreshingly cold water on a seething summer day.

Alas, as my mind contemplated on my current situation, my heart had decided on showing me a way out of the dark. And without much pretense, I had glanced up and found Camila reading my copy of Venus and Adonis without the same tension I found myself bearing while facing the narrative poem.

It should bother me that my own subconscious seem to have held its breath far too long and it was compelling me to propel to the surface and take a gulp of air for my own survival. And it should bother me that Camila had become a metaphor for freedom and for unbridled bliss, and I had only known her for hours.

It was simply preposterous. In essence, an "are you f*****g kidding me" kind of situation that may make me seem like some mindless dreamer, whose faith is solely on love. But I'd like to think that I only see her as a symbol of light and of kindness, and just...joy.

Just like any other person, I only wanted to be happy.

Yes, it was preposterous but just seeing her made me let out a sigh and I'd only be lying if I denied just how relieved I was to have met her.

Camila either noticed my movements or she felt my stare digging into her skull when she looked up and gave me a quick and very gentle smile but gracefully left me to my devices almost immediately; mostly to offer me some privacy.

My stomach rippled with delight that I am not going to admit may have been butterflies but I could not deny how elated I felt from the simple gesture, which left me holding my breath.

"N...no...No! We have free period; Camz and I." I stuttered my attempts at convincing myself that my boyfriend was not intruding on a trivial conversation that could have befallen upon my friend and I if Gavin didn't call.

"Camz? Is that a guy?" My boyfriend asked with bafflement dripping like oil while jealousy burned his words as my own discomfort surfaced with the way he spoke her name. "Babe, did you hit your head or something? What happened to the Lauren Jauregui? My Lauren Jauregui."

I didn't miss the jealousy in his tone. In fact, it was prevalent. For a person, who often neglected my needs, he was distrustful. And of course, it made him far too suspicious in my eyes.

Oftentimes, cheaters would suspect their partners of infidelity for the very reason that they'd see a predisposition in themselves; the desire to sample another meal when theirs are right in front of them.

I wasn't making up excuses for him and I could have seen his distrust as a trauma from a previous relationship, or an issue with a parent. I should have been worried, too.

I should have.

There was an apparent shock in the way he worded his response; something that meant he, too, could not believe that the words came from his mouth. Apart from that, worry was evident and his pitch was climbing up to heights previously unheard of and even then, he pronounced Camila's name so rough that it was scrubbing every inch of my skin.

But that was only the beginning of it. It was just that...I felt a little...territorial and it was disconcerting.

I felt that no one should call her that nickname but me; especially after hearing the others call her "Mila" and Dinah's "Chanco". I hated that I was being so possessive that I was protecting what others might call a simple, ordinary name to address someone. And still, I would insist that the most insignificant pet name would stem from something intimately shared between two people.

That didn't hinder my frustrations though. In fact, the barrier that was encapsulating my complacent temperament had been torn down and the only thing left to do was sigh.

But Gavin was right.

What had happened to Lauren Jauregui? What happened to his Lauren? He was aware of my tendencies to avoid having to talk to just anyone, especially on the first day of school, when conversations would mean pleasantries out of courtesy. He knew I liked to test the waters out, observe people from afar and only make friends with them when they approach me.

That was how it worked since the beginning of time.

"Camila." I corrected sternly, to which the brunette lifted her gaze to meet mine in an inquisitive manner. "Her name is Camila."

I felt a smile creep in as I acknowledged her startled expressions. Her devastatingly captivating brown eyes were exposed in its entirety, raising her brows up high while she released a little hum. Shrugging, I pointed to my phone and mouthed an apology, to which, Camila grinned and stuck her thumb out to tell me it was okay.

"But It's not like I didn't have friends before, Gavin." I insisted upon turning sideways to salvage whatever privacy I could get.

Why I didn't get up from my seat is a question I have no answer to.

"Ouch." He feigned offense as I called him by his name, which he specifically asked me not to but I was not quite pleasant. "Babe," he emphasized the word to get the point across one more time. "You and I both know what I mean. You're just very guarded...picky and you didn't exactly like it when people approach you. Hell, I walked through miles of ember with my bare feet just to get you to talk to me. When I asked you out, I stood on thick ice, shaking furiously while my limbs froze. I was so pale. On top of that, my voice wouldn't even cooperate. So, yes, it felt like I was literally standing on a huge block of ice, babe."

Gavin had a point.

Recalling that day in May elicited an amused huff to fly out of my parted lips. I could vividly remember how that day transpired and his face did, in fact, lose its rosy complexion. There was a part of me that assumed he would lose consciousness and just, well, pass out.

I didn't want to taint one of our only fond memories together because my vision had already been blurred by every disappointment and unshed tears over the months of our relationship. It seemed unfair for me to only think of his failures and mistakes but I didn't realize that I had every right to feel whatever it was that I was feeling, especially when he never really learned.

He did call as promised, and I guess, that's progress.

"I know. I remember."

"I was hoping you won't." Gavin retorted truthfully, sounding a little ashamed. He was withholding a laugh as evidenced by his rickety voice and the only way to get out of it was to divert the conversation. "So, how was the poem?"

"The what?" I furrowed my brows as I slumped in my seat.

"Venus and Adonis." He clarified with a mild hint of apprehension. "I asked you to read it yesterday. Come on, babe. It's been with you for a while."

At the mention of the poem, my body absentmindedly turned to Camila's direction.

Again, I didn't have to, but I did.

Gavin liked knowing that I care about the things he cared about. It's a beautiful experience to share a favorite hobby with your favorite person. The problem was, Gavin and I may be quite the opposites and what I enjoy doing does not quite overlap much with his. While I enjoyed music and literature, he loved roughing it up on his skateboard, gliding down handrails and leaping over whatever was in his way.

The poem may have just been the bridge with which he poured every ounce of his hope in to connect with me on a deeper level.

The piece of paper looked as if it was staring right at me, mocking me with its torn edges.

How could I forget?

The thought never even occurred to me but still, what I concluded next was probably what bothered me the most. The literary masterpiece wasn't associated to Gavin anymore. It easily became something Camila and I shared with all the time she spent explaining what archaic words meant.

I guess I was excited knowing someone as interesting and unique as Camila would have something in common with me. Unique might just be debatable. I bet I have met a lot of people similar to her but they were simply...not Camila.

But maybe my fondness for her had just been exaggerated by my misery with the relationship I shared with Gavin. I may have just needed a friend; the kind I could trust and not those I will only find to be a tad bit interesting after certain doses of alcohol.

"Camila." I whispered in my stupor as my unfaltering gaze remained focused on the piece of paper and again, I brought Camila's attention to me.

"Babe? Are you still there?" Gavin's irritation surfaced and it wasn't as subtle as before.

I had just struck a chord and my brain had just sounded off the alarm, frantically trying to come up with something, anything to appease my boyfriend.

Making excuses was almost rudimentary but I was tongue tied, bound by my panicked state. I could just hear my stomach churning as my heart wreaked havoc in my chest. Of course, my lungs had to go ballistic and decided that audible shallow breaths were far less suspicious, which was definitely not the case.

Camila's brows only rose up and still, they weren't fueled by scrutiny. It was something she did to encourage me to take my time and I found it a little embarrassing, if I'm being honest. I appreciated her patience simply because I am quite aware that I'm a challenge to understand.

In shame, I lowered my gaze down to the paper she was holding, unknowingly staring at my saving grace.

Like a light bulb weakly flickering to life, I just conjured up an idea.

"Camz, what do you think of the poem?" I breathed, forcing a smile that most likely made me look like I had just threw up in my mouth.

Camila seemed to accept my question and in turn, pursed her lips as she collected her thoughts. There was a battle in her eyes and it led me to assume that she was reluctant to divulge on whatever was in her mind.

"Lauren," She raised her brows, slowly and softly pronouncing my name and conveniently coming to a long pause. She was stalling and it was adorable but she kept the composed façade that I never bought in the first place. "it has um...you know...l-lots of amorous dalliance hinting. It's too s****l for my liking."

I chuckled just as she stopped speaking, observing as a shade of red slowly devoured her olive skin. That was my honest reaction to what she had just said.

Camila just stared at me as if she was about to burst in a litany to scold me about being polite. But then, she let out a sigh and shook her head condescendingly, and it was then that Camila came around and laughed with me.

Why did she have to be so irresistibly beautiful?

"Lauren!" Enraged, Gavin screeched to announce his forgotten presence.

His irritated voice seeped into my skin and electrocuted my entire body, bringing me crashing back down to earth with a jolt of shock from the sudden loud outburst. Gavin never called me by my name unless he was furious. He hated being ignored and but he practically hoarded my full attention every time we spoke.

Gavin's demeanor were flashing warning signs in my head. It was setting off those red lights coupled by blaring noises as every fiber within me frantically ran to safety.

We have only been together for four months and it would only be rational to think that our new relationship meant laughter and smiles for at least another two months but it wasn't the case.

Now that I thought about it, it had never been.

And all too suddenly, he had become one of those people my father warned me about.

"Babe?" I cautiously mumbled, bracing for an even bigger commotion. I lifted up my hair to stroke my hair back, tangling my fingers in my dark tresses as I held my breath. "Sorry."

"It's okay." He begrudgingly breathed and I could just picture him rubbing at the bridge of his nose in an attempt to simmer down. "Just...what do you think of it?"

"It's interesting...I mean, as Camz said, too sexual..." I acknowledged warily despite the desire to dissect my relationship further. Although, I had questions about the poem I could not stifle for the life of me. "Why did you choose that, though? And why the sudden interest in classical poetry?"

"She reads Shakespeare." Surprised, he muttered a little skeptically and quite irritably. The bite in his tone was easy to pick out and if that wasn't enough, he let out a deep and frustrated huff.

"Yup." I answered evasively but somehow felt the desire to elaborate further. "She's a bookworm."

And yes, that was not quite the intricate and complex explanation I had in mind but it did elicit a small smile upon Camila's face.

"I don't know if you noticed, but you just tend to gravitate towards the smart, eloquent speakers rather than the blank ones." He said in a much calmer tone, which I appreciated immensely.

Frankly, I'd applaud him for the observation but I was still cagy. So, I clapped, in my mind, where I am the only person who could hear it.

I probably should have sensed how distant he sounded but that somehow didn't matter to me.

"I do." Incessantly nodding, an absentminded smile settled on my lips as I continually processed the thought. "I do."

I do like the articulate-speaking person. There was just something about words that fascinate me. Actions could convey the unspoken but I find art in the passion of verbal expression.

I liked them clear and coherent with which I do not have to reformat their sentences to comprehend their thought. Broken, weirdly arranged sentences irked me to a point.

But I'm not cruel.

I'd attempt to unravel some gibberish from the sobbing brokenhearted or the blissfully drunk. I'm versatile; granting, I hadn't had as much alcohol.

Riveting, thought-provoking conversations keep me going. Spirited ones about a book or an idea is highly appealing to me. There wasn't any specific person that I could recall that I loved talking to then, but now there was Camila.

I've belonged in groups before but I've never had to express my innermost thoughts to them considering the contents of our conversations would go form boys to...boys, and the best hangover food. And then there's how to sneak back into your house without getting caught and the most creative excuses to go out.

"Babe, I have to go. I'm about to go to class." Gavin regretfully informed, sighing in the process. "I love you. Don't spend too much time with Camila; I might get jealous." He let out a soft chuckle in an attempt to play off the jealousy behind his supposed tasteless joke.

"Okay. I love you, too."

I probably should have sounded a little less reluctant but I didn't and it was too late to take it back.

I wasn't sure if he was being serious about me staying away from Camila but knowing him, he could have been. Then again, he had always supported the idea of me making friends, real friends and not just random people I happen to hang out with. He was openly opposed to my hanging out with people like Jette; people exactly like Jette.

I've had a lot of versions of her in my lifetime.

Despite others associating them with trouble, they were basically a reprieve for me. I didn't have to be smart enough, I had no responsibilities and all we did was waste nights away with alcohol. Although, I do have to be pretty or sexy enough or whatever to belong in that clique.

But that wasn't what mattered at the moment.

I had realized something as I watched the red display on my phone, signaling the end of the call. It wasn't as explosive as an epiphany; it was more of a cognizance, an awareness that had been waiting to bother me. And that was the fact that the entire time I was talking to Gavin, I was weighing my options.

It hadn't occurred to me that leaving him was an option before and even while I was packing, I wasn't concerned about how challenging it would be for us to maintain our relationship. Instead, Gavin and I spent it planning out a schedule to connect, to keep ourselves from drifting apart.

But even then, I should still meet some sort of difficulty, I should feel a struggle and I didn't.

And suddenly, a different kind of fear began to engulf my body, transcending to physical discomfort. My heart decided to climb up to my drying throat and lodge itself there, and the only thing I needed wasn't in my reach.

As melodramatic as it sounds, I needed water to survive my reeling mind.

"I'm just going to get water." I mumbled out of courtesy and was just about to push my seat when Camila rushed an answer out.

"That's yours." She shyly pushed one of the water bottles next to her towards me upon relinquishing her grip on the piece of paper. "It was cold when I got it. I'm sorry I forgot to give it to you."

"No. Don't apologize." I instantly reached for the bottle of water and twisted it open, saving both of us the trouble of coy displays, when my throat was in a dire drought. "Thank you, Camz."

I threw my head back, gulping half the contents of the bottle and relished in the way the liquid glided down my throat and settled in my belly. Having that sandwich for lunch wasn't the brightest idea. But apart from my bodily dilemmas, I was gratified to learn that Camila actually cared about me.

The gesture may have been small but she had foreseen a necessity that I had apparently forgone. Camila was thoughtful and kind, and water wasn't the only thing my stomach had accommodated. Butterflies began to infest the area as it tickled my heart into swelling.

Making me happy wasn't hard. Why couldn't Gavin do it?

"So," I began, setting the bottle back down onto the table and began drumming a beat on the table with my fingers. And it was only later that I found that it was quite awkward. "What do you do on free periods?"

"I catch up on homework I forgot about, granting, somebody reminded me." Camila answered nonchalantly as if she wouldn't get in trouble when it was time to turn them in. But her complacent features suddenly scrunched up and her gaze flitted down to the poem she was idly holding. "Oh, s**t! I have homework to do."

My jaw dropped only to release an amused huff preceding a chuckle. Frankly, after seeing her do the same exact look during homeroom, I was expecting it. I could tell she was smart, very smart and she could be at the top of her class if she cared. Camila was just a procrastinator and I don't think I can find anything wrong with it.

Teenagers could easily find better things to do than worry about complicated equations they will never meet again in their lives. Well, save for the part where they chose to be mathematicians or if their future children needed their help. In that case, I had just found fault in my argument.

"Where do you want to do it?" I asked her as she rummaged through her backpack, pulling out pieces of crumpled paper with an equally crumpled face.

She was very entertaining even when she didn't do it on purpose. And it was quite refreshing to find some order in her chaos.

"Uh..." She prolonged the pronunciation as she inspected a yellowish paper with notes, treble clefs and lines. Huffing out a relieved sigh and deforming her once rigid stance, she glanced back at me with a childlike expression. "Here, I think. I can't really do this at the library. I'd be too loud."

The homework was for music class; the next class. I should have seen it coming.

-

"What rhymes with crown?" Camila looked up from her hunched position across from me.

She had returned the plastic seat back to where she found it, informing me that she would much rather cancel the disorder she had done than have someone waste time on it. It only reinforced my opinion of her, and by the looks of it, she'd be perfect at the end of the day.

Camila had leaned deeper into the table, sort of hugging it; encapsulating the piece of paper in her arms, her right hand holding a pen. It looked as if she was creating the cave and was just momentarily peeking out to the world.

I was giddy that she acknowledged me after a couple of minutes she devoted to writing. And I'd be embarrassed at how quick I abandoned Venus and Adonis which I had attempted to read once more.

"Frown, drown, brown." Just like your eyes, I noted but fought off the urge to smile proudly.

I felt challenged, even if she wasn't insinuating any sort of competition. Even then, I wanted to impress her and find pride ripple in her eyes. It was a daunting fact that I've never tried doing that to please anyone in the past. I've always believed in being true to myself, and oddly enough, the truth is, I valued my education and the contents of my brain.

Why can't I brag about it?

"Without the 'R' you have down, clown, noun, town, gown." I continued, rocking my head from side to side as I noted each word I had come up with.

Camila looked to me as if I was her last hope. She was pensive as she listened intently to me babble on until midway through, when she pursed her lips and nodded. The sudden idea prompted her shoulders to raise as she pushed out a gasp from her lips. In an instant, she began to scribble some words with haste, and when she was done, she glanced back up at me.

"Thanks, Lo." She beamed happily in her gratitude, closing her eyes and exposing a youthfulness that I admired so much.

And while I could ignore it, I didn't acknowledge the fact that she had tugged on some strings that kept my heart in place.

"No problem, Camz." I managed to utter despite my wavering voice, stolen by my laughter.

And while my competitive side was predominant at that point, I was trying to fight another war; my feelings. What better way to quash them by citing reasons why it would never work.

Camila and I are opposites; maybe not completely but we are.

I had realized that early on when she barged in on my quiet albeit frustrated musings while I read the narrative poem Gavin handed to me.

One, I would never talk first. Well, unless I absolutely had to. I despise the casual yet awkward smiles and hefty pauses. I don't really know how I had made real friends - maybe I hadn't.

Two, Camila procrastinates. I was more than willing to bet she would refuse to lift a textbook at home.

I, on the other hand, would go straight to the dining room table and lay everything out systematically. If I don't, I would go insane. I would aimlessly stress over my homework while I could not do them yet and the closer the deadline is, the crazier I get.

Despite my time to come up with substantial answers; I would still continue to wallow in the possibility of not knowing and yet there's Camila, silently doing her homework without even the slightest tension over her shoulders.

Three, Camila was a walking commotion in her sobriety.

I had witnessed her stumble on her own feet, and while I sat there thinking about it, I was beginning to giggle at how funny it was. She liked to stand like a pretzel; her legs would be crisscrossed to the human anatomy limit and her feet would be side by side; only her left foot would be planted on the right.

And still, she had a certain grace that wasn't typical.

Camila and I are different, I have established that.

But why are you comparing, Lauren? I scolded myself. I had only known her for less than half a day and I had all these insights about her.

Why was I even thinking about her?

-

The hour and a half went by a little too quickly for my liking. I didn't quite appreciate the thought that I had wasted a significant chunk of being on the phone with Gavin zoning out, riling him up and apologizing, and doing it all over again. And when I could have just basked in the glory of Camila, I spent it contemplating on ways to avoid developing feelings for her.

Oh, what a productive break it was.

Camila and I made it to the music class side by side but we were greeted by three eager girls by the door, thrilled to finally see us approaching.

"Lauren!" Ally exclaimed as she threw her arms out to welcome me in an embrace. That sprightly little girl. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me, too, Ally." I chuckled, leaning closer to her to reciprocate the hug but didn't quite have the energy to vigorously rub her back as she did to me.

It was all a blur as I was caught in a tornado of arms and hair until I felt another person holding me as soon as Ally relinquished her hold on me.

"Hi Lauren!" Normani giggled and squeezed me just before pulling back to address me better. "Miss Peterson wants to see you."

"Great." I muttered in a sarcastic manner, already frowning at the thought of introducing myself yet again.

You'd think I'd get used to it after multiple schools but nope, I was just as annoyed by it.

"She's cool. Don't worry." My blue-haired friend dismissively waved her hand, scrunching up her features despite the grin she wore.

Dinah squeezed so tight, I could have sworn I felt my eyes push out of the sockets. It was the kind of hug I would brought upon a person I had not seen in so long, not the ones I just saw not even two hours prior.

I didn't mind it though. Nope, no complaints her.

Camila, alternatively, latched onto each one of them; hovering while in Dinah and then, Normani's grasps. She was like a baby koala who had just been reunited with her family after ages of being apart, and she was blissfully melting in their arms.

And boy, was happiness beautiful on her.

Their bond was one of a kind; it was precious and special. It made me wonder if they were always as excited to see each other everyday or was it just because I was new and they wanted me to feel accepted.

"Let's go in." Ally coaxed, grabbing me by the wrist to lead me to Miss Peterson."

The music room was a mini version of an auditorium and was painted in colors of autumn. There were musical instruments to the back of the teacher who stood in front of us - some I recognized, others I didn't. Multiple guitars - acoustic, classic and electric - were lined to one side, to my right. and a basic eight-piece drum set and a baby grand piano in the middle.

It was a sight to see and the musician in me had been itching to come out. That was far less complicated than my sexuality.

I had to introduce myself again after the teacher asked typical questions about how I was coping with my new environment. It was enough apprehension for one day but I found myself quite relaxed with friends, who may have been obnoxiously supporting me with their comically wide grins.

I joined my friends as soon as I finished and sat right next to Camila. We were in the middle of the back row and as Miss Peterson moved around her desk, the atmosphere shifted. My classmates looked as if they were about to hurl while the precious Camila Cabello remained unfettered.

"Ready with your lyrics?" Miss Peterson probed, clapping her hands together to incite some sort of excitement from her class.

It was useless, but at least, she tried.

The young blonde teacher with freckles atop her nose glanced at all of the weary students, combing through the two rows from left to right but had stopped conveniently to meet my lost gaze.

"Lauren, you can submit yours by Tuesday, next week." She softly smiled at me in the hopes of encouraging my stress levels to go down before glancing down at a clipboard in her hands.

I never expected to be exempted from the assignment but a girl can only dream.

One by one, students were given time to consult with the teacher. There were 26 of us and some have quite a lot of questions which included me, starting with "what do I write about?"

I sat in my chair, thinking about some of my significant journal entries over the last couple of years I have been writing on it, granting they had any artistic flair. I knew I had to write lyrics but I was wondering if the last syllables have to rhyme; and if the syllables had to be counted. I twirled a pen with my hand with an empty notebook, staring at me, mocking me even.

I would argue against the inanimate object and dare it to take my place but that was...not normal.

"So, that took longer than expected." Miss Peterson ascended from her seat after checking the time on her leather-strap watch. She only had time to check around 12 students' work and I could not be more relieved and grateful. "I'll go over the rest of your lyrics on Tuesday. And if you promise to stay quiet, I'll let you talk amongst yourselves - discuss the project until class is dismissed."

There was a slew of celebratory words thrown haphazardly among the students and if granted the opportunity, there would have been sheets of paper in the air, too. Then again, I'd rather work on the music assignment than yank all my hair off with World History.

Miss Dubose was such a darling.

"I had a feeling I didn't have to submit mine today." Camila mumbled with a satisfied grin.

She made no move to gather her things just as everyone else had started. It impressed me just how easily she had finished those lyrics and was even regretting ever completing the assignment. I was rendered speechless for a moment, taking time to shake my head in disapproval.

"Just be glad you're done with it, Camz." I reprimanded her lightly, finally having enough of my blank notebook and decided on just snapping it just in the hope of hurting the lifeless object.

Clearly, I was losing it.

"Camila." The teacher called calmly with that hint of fondness.

Camila might just be a favorite student. Then again, she and Dinah seemed to be having fun discussing the Polynesian's project.

I curiously twisted my head to watch the younger girl's reactions and found Camila looking up with an inquisitive look falling upon her face. It was not a good feeling to be guilty of eavesdropping but I could not help it.

"Help Lauren if she has any questions, okay?" Miss Peterson advised kindly, earning a vigorous nod from Camila. "Thanks."

The news prompted a self-satisfied grin to sneak up to my lips as Camila shifted her gaze to face me. She was already smiling as if we shared the same sentiments but I was almost certain she wasn't developing some maddening crush on me like I was on her.

I could perceive it and accept it as a crush, and nothing more but I could not even deny just how happy I was that among the 25 others in the class, it was her, who was tasked to help me.

My savior.

"I think I need your phone number now." I tugged down on the corners of my mouth as I widened my eyes to look as pitiful as can be, earning a fond chuckle from Camila.

"Hand me your phone."