Being Camila Cabello

CHAPTER 5

"Yeah, because hours of school every day—plus all the homework—isn’t enough."

"I know you’re having a bad day, but don’t you get an attitude with me," my mother said sternly, suddenly making me feel like a jerk. "You are not as handicapped as you think you are. If your life is miserable, it’s because you let it be."

"Sorry," I muttered out of guilt even though I didn’t actually believe what she’d said. My life was miserable and it was out of my control, no matter what she thought. I didn’t want her to feel bad, though, so I tried to keep the conversation going.

"A job might not be so bad," I admitted. "It’s just that after hours of being at school with all the noise, my head usually hurts like crazy, and I need some peace and quiet. It’s hard to be around so many people all the time."

My mom’s sour expression turned into concern as she looked around the crowded mall. "Are you feeling all right now? Do we need to go home?"

"No, Mom." I sighed even though I wanted nothing more than to be back home, lying in bed. "I’m fine right now. I’m just saying it might make it difficult to have a job while I’m in school." She sighed and things got quiet again. I glanced at her before I reached up to rub my head, but she didn’t notice my discomfort because she was too busy frowning at one of the books I’d just purchased.

"Why always with the aliens or superheroes?" she complained.

"Freaks with powers, trying to conceal their true identities?" I laughed bitterly. "I wonder."

"And this?" My mom held up a biography of Stephen King with a disapproving look.

"Hey," I said defensively. "That’s not fiction. It’s nice to know that there’re bigger freaks out there than me."

"Sweetheart, that’s not going to make you feel more normal. And there’s a whole lot more to you than just having powers, you know. Why don’t you find a good drama? I’ll bet you could relate to that really well."

I love my mom. She was being dead serious, and yet she still made me smile. "You’re calling me the drama queen?" I laughed. There was no questioning where I get my theatrics. "No thanks. I have enough drama in my life already. And besides"—I took the biography from my mother’s hands—"I have to read this one for class."

"This is an assignment?" My mom was a little more than skeptical.

I shrugged. "We’re all about biographies in English right now."

"And you chose Stephen King?"

"Mr. E. never specified who, and you have to admit, Stephen King is way more interesting than President Obama or Taylor Swift or whoever."

My mother sighed dramatically and then frowned at another book. "All right, fine. But you could still try other books too. You never know, you might really enjoy a nice… romance." And there it was. Clever but not quite sneaky enough to fool me.

"Didn’t you say there was a sale around here somewhere?" I asked, pulling myself from our table.

My mom sighed and followed me down the mall until I stopped in front of a store window with a really nice dress in it. "You should buy something like that, and then make Dad take you someplace nice."

My mom paused a minute, and I smirked because she was finally going to say it. Sure enough, she blurted, "I like Lauren," failing at her attempt to be subtle.

I wandered into the store pretending to be clueless. When she gave me an expectant look, I muttered, "Not gonna happen."

"Camila, what on earth happened last night?"