Lauren Jauregui was 17 years old when her son was born. She had to finish school, work a part time job, and care for her son all on her own. Now, 12 years later and her son is entering middle school, she owns her own business and her life is finally...
I sat parked outside a bakery, waiting for Shawn, Dylan, Lee, Clarke, and Dinah to arrive. I had texted Dinah, informing her of my break up with Ariana and she told me she was on her way to a bakery to visit Normani, because she was working today and that I should tag along. She said she would text the guys and Clarke so that way they could meet up with us.
I was thankful for my best friends because they had dropped everything they had planned today to be with me. I genuinely didn't know how to feel at this moment in time. I was heartbroken, really. But at the same time I wasn't. I didn't care. I didn't want to care. I just existed.
I jumped slightly when I heard a knock on my window. I turned my head to see Shawn and Clarke standing outside my car, on the sidewalk. I climbed out of the car and walked around to the sidewalk.
"How are you feeling?" Clarke asked me as she wrapped her arms around me. She pulled away to fix me with that look of hers, tilting her head to the side slightly.
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"Numb," I said truthfully, never able to lie to Clarke. Clarke and I had met in middle school, my 7th grade year. We had met in a music class we had taken together. At first she was quiet, closed off, reserved. But I had always been the happy go lucky, awkward yet confident girl. So I tried my hardest to get her to talk, at least to me.
Clarke and I connected through our mutual love of music. She played the piano and she was really good at it, having trained since she was 5. She was also really easy to talk to. I always felt that I could tell her anything. She had been through a lot, having lost her dad at a young age and her mom being a doctor with barely any time for her. The only person she really seemed to connect with was me, Shawn, and her girlfriend, Lexa.
I let Clarke go and turned to look at Shawn, who frowned slightly me. He opened his arms and I immediately slid into them. He sighed as he wrapped his arms around me. He let me go after a moment and tried to flash me a smile but it just turned into a frown as he saw my face.
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"She wasn't worth it, Mila," he said simply. Shawn was always the more logical, calm, and sweet friend. We had met Shawn our 8th grade year of middle school. He was being bullied by a bunch of football players and we handled them, scaring them off. He was a genuinely kind person, with not a singular hostile bone in his body.
