The Other Her - Camren | ♡ Camila Cabello x Lauren Jauregui ♡

1

She'd always been that way. Daring, intelligent, enchanting. She'd always known how she'd have me wrapped around her finger, how she'd reel me in until there was nothing left of myself because every ounce of my being I owed to her. My Mom had always warned me of the drugs on the street, warned me never to lose myself in the passing fancy my peers took to the wispy cigarette smoke that would manifest itself as the rasp in my voice; but she'd never warned me of the most lethal kind of drug: those with emerald eyes and a heartbeat.

'You're gonna make something of yourself, Karla, you're not gonna live the life I do.'

'Get those A's, Karla, you're going to become a doctor.'

'Get your head out of the clouds, Karla, only those girls you find in Beverly Hills make it in the music industry.'

I'd spent my life in doubt. In worry. In fear. Fear of rejection, worry of letting people down, doubting I'd even be able to grasp any opportunity that was to arise. I'd always felt out of place, different, always as if something was missing. And it seemed that, no matter how hard I tried, I could never find it within myself.

I'd never been talkative, not at any single point in my life, speaking my mind never did come naturally to me, not like it did for her. I could listen to her talk for hours, whether it be about something or nothing, she'd always manage to find her way with words whilst I'd be getting lost within them. Every vowel, every consonant, every syllable she pronounced pulled me in, spinning me into her turmoil of sweetly sickening compliments and ideologies that always quite managed to be just my cup of tea.

Her skin was always ice-cold, though to me, she was anything but. The twinkle in her eye radiated warmth where her body failed her, she was so distant yet so inviting. A somewhat juxtaposed identity, though, she never seemed confused. Her perfect imbalance of integrity and direction seemed to fall together just right for her, and whilst she was falling together - I was falling apart.

*** *** *** *** ***

"Comb? Towels? Shampoo? Conditioner? Toothpaste? Toothpaste?" My Mom listed in military order as she hovered around filling the last of my three bags with M & M's, Doritos and other snacks.

"Yes, Mom." I replied, rolling my eyes as I watched her struggle to unzip my already full-to-the-brim travel bag and stash some travel-sickness pills inside of it. "Just in case." She assured, turning to face me as she felt my glare upon her.

"I'm only going for a week, anyone would think I was leaving home!" I exclaimed, looking around at the pile of luggage waiting for me to clamber over my shoulder.

"Better to be safe than sorry!" She replied, pausing to rest her delicate hand against my rosy cheek. "You will be careful, won't you, Karla?" She asked, focusing her minstrel-brown eyes on my own. Although I'd told her countless times I preferred to be called by my middle name, Camila, my Mom still addressed me as 'Karla' when there was a need to be serious.

"Of course I will!" I said, flashing her my best assuring grin, though even I couldn't be certain. I was going away on an abseiling weekend with my Geography class as part of my 'extra-curricular credit' and given the rumours I'd heard from last year's cohort - I wouldn't be getting away scratch-free.

My Mom nodded, handing me my remaining two bags and tightening the zip on them both as she did so before escorting me to the hallway where we were to wait for my bus to arrive. "So, who are the roomies?" She asked, leaning against the oak cabinet behind her.

"Um..." I began. "Well, I'm with Ally and Taylor, Dinah's with Normani and another girl called Lauren." I listed, dragging the 'n' at the end of Lauren's name.

"Oh, who's that?" Mom asked, raising her eyebrows. I'd never really spoken to Lauren before, maybe only once or twice, she and I never really had to have anything much to do with one another.

"I'm not entirely sure myself." I giggled, uncertainly. "She's in a lot of Normani's classes, I see them talking a lot. I don't know much about her." I concluded, just in time to hear the bus pull up outside.

I leaned forward allowing my Mom to grab my face and kiss my nose, wiping it with her thumb afterwards. "You have fun, baby." She said, allowing her hand to brush across my upper-arm and return to her side. She turned to open the front door and allowed me to pass under her arm as she held it open, I squeezed beneath her with my luggage and stepped outside, setting my suitcase down to wheel over to the bus before me.

"I love you." I called, making my way towards the bus and climbing inside, I was only the fifth student to be picked up and no one on the bus already was a friend of mine so I chose to sit in the seat at the front right of the bus, waving at my Mom as we drove away.

My Mom and I were intensely close, I told her all my worries, well most of them, and she told me all of hers, like real best friends. And, if she didn't approve of my other friends, they weren't in my life for long.

I say I told her everything, this isn't strictly true. I'd been keeping something a secret for a long while now, well, less of a secret, more a suppression. I'd always known I was different, from a very young age actually, maybe 10 or 11. There was a part of me I never dared to reveal, not to anyone. This part of me was: liking girls.

All through my school-life, I'd grown up with the same group of girls, including my best friend Ally Brooke. I specifically remember being around 13 years old when these girls I'd always known inside-out began becoming interested in boys. They'd arrange sleepovers where we'd each arrive at someone's house with a new crush to tell each other about, a new boy from the TV who was just 'too cute for words'. But I never seemed to experience any of this. Not once, well, not really. I joined in though, of course, forcing my attractions and gritting my teeth as we played some very intrusive rounds of '21 truths' in the tent in one of our back yards. That's what normal teenage girls were supposed to do, right?

I'd never really crushed on girls of my age either, though. Sure, there were girls I thought were extremely pretty, or girls with bubbly personalities beyond description... But I'd never experienced what it felt like to acquire a gut-wrenching, painful crush. Sure, I was only 15, there was plenty of time for broken hearts to come, but I couldn't help but notice how no one made me feel how I wanted to feel. Not until I met Lauren Jauregui, that is.