Ambivalent

*Chapter One*

"I'm sorry I'm late, Mr. Wallace, I had a minor inconvenience on my way here." Camila politely tells the teacher. "Very well, but please don't let it be repeated, Miss Hudson." She nods and walks towards the middle rows, stopping just where there are two spots next to each other.

I'm going to sit next to her again.

I look down at my feet, feeling my cheeks starting to burn. "And you? What's your excuse, Mr. Hendrix?" I look up at Mr. Wallace who currently has a massive scowl on his face, making me clear my throat before I point towards where Camila is sitting. "I uh, I spilled her coffee when I was rushing here-" I stop myself from more embarrassment.

"Go sit, please, and don't disturb the rest of the lesson."

Everyone stares at me as I climb the stairs to sit next to Camila. The teacher resumes teaching the class and introduce the subject when Camila leans in closer to whisper in my ear, "Tell you this, Hendrix. If I fail this class because of your shit, you won't ever see a good day in your life again. I'll make sure of it."

Opening her notebook, she starts scribbling what Mr. Wallace wrote on the white board and like the creep I am, I watch her every move.

There's just something about this girl that makes her the most interesting thing in the world, in my world at least. Maybe it's her silky brown hair that smells like papaya, or her meadow green eyes that when they stare into mine, make my heart skip a beat, maybe it's the little constellations of freckles she has across the bridge of her nose...maybe it's just her.

God, I'm so stupid. She would never date a guy like me, I'm not her type, but to be honest, I don't really know what her type is. Her last two boyfriends had brown hair and brown eyes, but one of her boyfriends had blonde hair, so maybe she's just into guys with brown eyes? None of them had stupid freckles on their faces or blueish-grey eyes and they were all taller than me.

Would she in another life ever look at me that way?

I sigh and when I'm about to grab my backpack, I realize I forgot it on my bed.

"Shit," I murmur and Camila looks at me, continuing to write. "What?" She whispers and scans my face, a frown on her brows.

"I forgot my backpack in my room- Can you borrow me a paper and a pen, please?" She rolls her eyes before ripping a page off her notebook and handing it to me, a light purple pen following.

"Thanks."

"Sure, but try not to break that one too."

I clench my jaw and look straight ahead. I deserved it. If I had to give her back every pen and pencil of hers I've broken over the years, a package wouldn't be enough.

For some reason, the memory of us on her 8th birthday came to my mind.

10 years earlier

I knock on Camila's house door and Christopher opens the door, looking at me with a frown. "What are you doing here?" I shift on the place and clear my throat. "Mrs. Hudson said I could come for the twin's birthday." Christopher looks inside and back at me, Mrs. Hudson appearing a moment later.

"Hello, sweetie! I'm glad you could make it," She gives me a warm smile and opens the door wider for me to walk inside the house.

"Chris and Cammy are in the backyard. Christopher, please lead Jason there."

I hear Christopher sigh and he places his hand on my shoulder before opening the french doors to the backyard.

Camila is sitting next to the cake table while Christian hands her a bracelet as he shakes his wrist, probably matching. I try not to trip over my feet as I approach them, that would most definitely be the death of me.

I look down at the pencil I bought for her and a ping of embarrassment fills me. I tried looking for a pencil like hers since I broke hers in the beginning of last year, but I couldn't find one, so this is the closest I got.

"Hi," I say shyly and she just looks at me, not moving a muscle. Chris stands up from his chair and shakes my hand. "Happy birthday, Chris."

"Thanks, J."

I'm practically two years older than all of them and it just makes this embarrassing. I'm still in third grade when I should be in fourth. They're turning 8 and I'm turning 10 next month, all because my mother wanted me to be late a year, for God knows why.

Out of all siblings, Christian is the only one cool with me. Me, him and his older brother Christopher all play soccer after school and that's how Mrs. Hudson invited me to come, but Chrsitopher doesn't really like me, for some reason.

Christian only told me once, that if I ever hurt his sister's heart again, he would make it bad for me but other than that, we've been cool.

"I uh, I got you something," I tell Camila as I take a step forward and extend my hand, handing her a light purple pencil with white flowers drawn all over, creating a pattern. I asked Mom what they were and she said they were daisies, so I thought she would like it.

"Thanks, it's...nice."

She hates it.

I swallow and look back when Mr. Hudson clears his throat, his arm around Mrs.Hudson's waist. Mom and Dad always do that too, but they only look at each other while they do it, like there's only them in the room.

There is something romantic about it, but something feels better when it comes to Camila's parents. They seem right for each other. And they look at their children so lovingly, it makes my heart ache.

Oh to be loved like that by my parents...

Tears threaten to fall and I blink fast to try and get them to go away because there is nothing more embarrassing than crying in front of everyone you don't know, especially in front of the girl you like.

I suddenly feel warmth on my hand and I look down to see Camila with her hand in mine. I interlace our fingers together and she doesn't seem to mind because she pulls me in for a hug. I haven't had one of these in so long...

She leans back and gives me a warm smile. A genuine, kind smile.

I think this might have been the moment I realized I loved her.

She made it better by simply standing next to me, but when she hugged me, it was like the world didn't matter anymore and that all I had to do was focus on that sweet face with big, beautiful green eyes and everything would be okay.

I loved her when I was nine, and I love her now at nineteen.

At this point, I feel like my heart no longer belongs to me, but to this girl sitting right next to me.

******

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