Chapter 8

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Camila's POV

The fact that (Y/N) admitted to liking me in the way I wanted her to was beyond me. To say that I was happy was an understatement, but I knew I couldn't pursue the girl until I confronted Shawn about how I felt about him.

I told him that I'd like to meet with him at this coffee shop down the road from our school. It was the only place I could think of. So here I was, sitting at the window with a cup of coffee between my hands and the scent wafting in my nose. The temperature of the beverage had slightly eased my nerves, but it didn't change the fact that what I was about to do was going to be difficult.

"Hey, Cam. You wanted to talk 'bout something?" Shawn exclaimed, meeting eyes with me once he went through the door of the small cafe. I nodded, a small smile on my lips as I gestured for him to take a seat. An older woman moved to our table, her attention on the Canadian boy.

"Hi there. Would you like to order something?" She said sweetly, but Shawn raised his hand a bit while he spoke.

"Ah, no thank you." He said politely, the waitress nodding and walking off to tend to other customers. Shawn's eyes returned to meet my own, and the anxiety started to build up in the pit of my stomach once again. It was now or never, right?

"What was it that you wanted to talk about?" Shawn said again, waking me from my thoughts.

"Right, well..." I say, chewing on my lower lip as I attempted to figure out a way to lay out my intentions. Shawn raised an eyebrow, something he did when he knew something was off.

"Camila," He said, a frown on his face. I sighed and cleared my throat, my thumbs gently gliding along the side of my beverage to keep myself somewhat occupied.

"Being in a relationship with you has been so amazing, and I couldn't have asked for a better first relationship than with you. But lately, I haven't felt that we've been on the same terms, and I sort of don't feel the feelings I had when we first got into this whole thing. You're the sweetest guy I've ever met, and you were one of my first friends when I moved here in middle school. I can't stress it enough how amazing and thankful I am to have you as more than that, but I'd rather stick to being best friends at this point."

Shawn wore a blank expression on his face, drinking up my words as he just sat there- contemplating to himself. The frown he wore on his lips remained but his eyes dropped down to the surface of the wooden table.

"I see..." He began, running a hand through his tousled, brunette hair as he finally met eyes with me.

"I understand what you mean. I suppose I should've seen this coming," He continued. My face contorted into one of surprise, which Shawn recognized and explained further. "Not that I knew this would happen, but I've thought that things seemed to be slower too. I just have a question before we call this a friendship."

I simply nod, gesturing him to ask the question he had.

"Did I do something wrong? Am I the reason why you feel this relationship is failing?"

"No, no! Not at all, Shawn. I just-.. I just think things are different and we both have different interests, that's all."

Shawn simply nodded and cleared his throat, running another hand through his hair as he took a deep breath. He slowly stood up from his seat, and I did the same.

"Can I at least have a hug?" He asked sheepishly, his arms open wide with a shy smile on his face.

I simply laugh, nodding in compliance as I shuffled into his space and wrapped my arms around his waist. I felt his face bury in my bed of hair, and we stayed like that for some time before we pulled away. I'm glad that this wasn't as dramatic as I pictured it would be. I had never been in a relationship before Shawn, but I took break-up's from those dramatic telenovas that my abuelita would show me and had thought it would be like one of those.

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