HAMMERED IN AGAIN AND AGAIN. In Camila's fingertips, she has an arsenal of over forty sonatas and a dozen million nocturnes, and various other pieces. It doesn't come naturally; she spends hours and hours, until there's a mold of her bottom on the piano chair.
Fingers automatic, she thinks about her most recent breakup.
"I think I needed something else when I was with you. I'm so sorry Andrew."
"Something or someone?"
"I don't mean it like that."
"Was it...?"
"No. Never. I loved you then and I love you now. But I think I'm holding you back. Because I don't think I can ever be ready for anything and you...you deserve someone who's ready for you all the way."
"Don't cry. Please, Cam."
"Can we still...be friends?"
"Of course."
"I. Ugh. I feel so guilty."
"Shh. Don't cry. Winners and virtuosos don't have time for crying."
A laugh. "You're right. And winners don't need virtuosos like me. I'm not even one."
"God, I'll miss you so much."
"I missed you the second we landed. But, Andrew?"
"Yeah?"
"You'll find someone so much better. I guarantee it."
"Alright, Cam. If I don't, I'm coming for you."
"I'll be ready, then."
Missing the tempo, Camila pulls out her metronome to instil the beat in her memory. Having natural musicality, she never uses it, preferring to tap her feet or count manually. But these long hours in this asylum makes her lose track of everything at once.
A buzz in her phone startles her. She usually has it off. Is it Jeremy?
Snarky tongue and wild eyes, Jeremy is nowhere to be seen in their group chats. Maybe he's too busy signing boobs to reply to their antics.
Her heart jumps to her throat. A message from Laurent (named Heteroeyed on her phone).
Instead of seeing his text, Camila immediately gives him a call.
Waiting...waiting...waiting.
"Hello—"
"Laurent!"
"—you've reached a dead end, buddy. Better try again."
Voicemail. Perturbed, Camila furrows her eyebrows and checks the text. A single emoji—one of the peach. Camila sends him one back—a single emoji of the fire emoji. Not exactly knowing the rules of this game, she plays along as best as she can.
The three dots come up but soon disappear. Sighing, Camila stows her phone away and saves it for a time where she has time to analyze it.
YOU ARE READING
Buzzed Hearts
Teen FictionCamila Bean is sort of an expert at dating. That is until she meets Laurent King, the boy she inexplicably develops an instant attraction to within their first few minutes of meeting. Because Laurent King does not do love; Laurent King does not date...
