Handwritten (One Shot Collection)

Lead Me Home

"My mother hates me." The Latina shrugged back. "What do you say, yes or no?"

"I guess if the elusive Camila Cabello has chosen to grace us with her presence, we have to go out tonight. Text the others, let them know you're in." Ally gave her a smile, then disappeared back into the confines of the shower. "Also when you leave, don't have the door hanging open, you let in a draft. I'll be out in a minute."

"Perfect." Camila pranced back outside happily, securing the bathroom door behind her. She waited patiently albeit painfully for Ally to finish, then tailgated into her room like a puppy waiting for a walk. "So where are we going to go? It needs to be something intense."

"Camila, why the sudden interest in the evening festivities?" Her roommate questioned. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" The Latina blinked, turning around while Ally exchanged her towel for a t-shirt and jeans, then started running a brush through her damp hair. "What do you mean? Are you saying that something has to be wrong for me to be the life of the party?"

Not necessarily, no..." Ally shrugged. "It's just I've known you forever, and you typically don't act this excited at the prospect of going outside and being social. You're more a... hang out under your covers and write One Direction fanfiction type."

"That was one time in high school." Camila hissed. "I knew I never should have told you guys about that, quit holding it against me."

"So what's the deal?" Ally had a bottle of perfume in her hand, and was fiddling with the cap with a growing smirk on her face. "Talk to me."

"Just mom stuff." The brunette shrugged. "I hate knowing that I'm halfway across the country and trying to hold together a marriage that just keeps falling apart. It's fine... I mean kids do everything they can to prevent divorce all across the country. Sure, not all of them have a little sister who still needs to grow up and deserves to do it with two happy parents, but it's fine." Camila trailed off. "No big deal."

"Mila." Ally placed a hand on her shoulder, the room suddenly smelling like a very delicious Chanel number. "You need to tell them how inappropriate it is using you as an outlet. That's not what you're there for, you're their daughter."

"Exactly." Camila grumbled, standing up and taking her friend's hand. "I'm their daughter... I'm just a punching bag. Tonight, all I really want to do is abide by her wishes for one night, then she can shut up about it. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"You're going to help me pick out what to wear."

"What if I don't want to?"

Rather than replying, Camila yanked her friend down the stairs, into the confines of her own bedroom.

If it's a rebel you want, it's a rebel you'll get.

***

"So this is what your plan is? You're just going to drink your body weight in brown gunk and let bad decisions guide your entire night?"

Camila nodded soundly, placing the clear, circular shaped glass down on the bathroom counter. Her vacant hand then scooped up a burning iron that was radiating warmth and ready to curl. Behind her, Normani Kordei was leaning against the door's frame, her arms folded neatly and tucked against her body. Her naturally dark complexion and powerful body were familiar to Camila, and after two years, rightly so.

"My stupid mother said I needed to stop being such a bookworm, get up off my ass and break some rules, so that's what I'm going to do." Camila nodded with a shrug, winding a section of thick, dark brown hair around the iron and letting the handle clamp down. She didn't love having to rehash the story a second time. "She wants a wild daughter, so a wild daughter she shall have."