Regionals boot camp passed Camila by in a blur. She assumed it was because she would rather be somewhere else—with Y/n—instead of with her friends. It was bad work ethic, she knew, but as a teen, it was completely normal, right?
As soon as Mr. Cowell told them that they did a good job, Camila hurriedly packed up her stuff. Sparing no farewell to the members of choir club, she left the auditorium, unaware of their gazes burning the back of her neck. She jumped into her car and drove home, barreling straight into Y/n's house, amidst the remnant smell of baked bread. Y/n was in her office, glasses on, brows furrowed.
"Hi," Camila said, breathless.
"Hi," Y/n lowered her glasses and closed her laptop. "You know I'm only joking, right? You don't have to do anything to make it up to me. I don't want to monopolize all your time—"
Camila walked around Y/n's desk and kissed her as if she hadn't seen her in ages. "I want you to. I want you to be selfish with me, Y/n."
But the older woman shook her head. "You're only young once, Camila. And you're graduating soon. I don't want to take your time away from you when you could be spending it with your friends, making high school memories with them." She chuckled and grasped Camila's smooth cheek. "Don't look at me like that. You can't just hang out with me forever. Be with your friends next time, okay?"
Camila was at a loss in what to say. Heart sinking in the pit of her stomach, she took a furtive step back from Y/n and nodded like a sulky teenager.
"Good," Y/n murmured. "Besides, I won't be here for a few days. I have a business meeting to go to in New York."
At the mention of her coveted city, Camila perked up. "Really? You didn't tell me?" She longed to ask if she could come, but the inevitable answer, of course, would be no. So she bit her lip, not wanting to taste any more of that bitter rejection.
"It was sudden as well. I wasn't asked to go in the first place, but a colleague insisted that all of us be there." Y/n rose up off her office chair and took Camila by the hand. They went upstairs, into the bedroom where they lay side by side on the large bed, facing each other. "I'm gone for a week for Book Expo." She explained. Camila saw her bags already packed in a corner of her room.
"Will you text me while you're gone?" She asked, voice a soft murmur. Y/n wrapped her arms around her hips and pulled in close. Planted a soft kiss on her lips.
"Of course I will."
Thus began the longest week of Camila's life. Of course she was being melodramatic, but it didn't take away from her misery. She did as Y/n asked her. Spending every day after school with her friends in choir club was certainly missed, but Camila's longing for Y/n didn't waver. The occasional texts were enough to stave her off until the week ended, but it wasn't enough.
By the time Camila headed home on Friday, she was exhausted. She just wanted peace and quiet, preferably with Y/n.
So when she saw a rental car parked on the older woman's driveway, Camila struggled to keep her excitement at bay. She calmly got dressed and power-walked to Y/n's front door. Camila knocked, but no one answered. The door was unlocked, and from the shoes on the foyer, Camila came to the conclusion that Y/n was home. Up the stairs she went. "Y/n?"
"Camila? I'm in the bedroom."
Upon entering Y/n's room, the sight that greeted her was one of daytime imaginings and wet dreams. Y/n, standing by her closet wearingabsolutely nothing. They haven't gone beyond kissing and some touching underneath clothes. Camila squeaked and clamped a hand over her eyes. "I-I'm here! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to walk in on you—"
