For the months that I've known Camila, I had filled pages upon pages of the imaginary book that I have created of the girl; tucked away in the confines of my head and heart. And yet, I still could not decipher the girl I've recently had the pleasure of calling my girlfriend. Camila had ways of surprising me. I could predict what she would do next but her kind heart apparently has tricks up its sleeve; if it had any.
"I was wondering where that chair went." I proclaimed with a slight smirk, resting my chin on my hand with my elbow on the table. "Did you take it with you or something? It kinda just disappeared."
My girlfriend was approaching our usual tangerine rectangular table to the corner of the shambolic and ever so loud cafeteria. She was dragging the white plastic chair behind her on its hind legs. It made a soft gliding sound against the tiled floor. It wasn't too disturbing to the ears and if anything, I welcomed that minute sound of friction. I had not heard it in so long that I was rejoicing quietly in secret. I still find it extremely ridiculous that I was attached to that chair. Where is the girl who had no problem moving from city to city; state to state?
The four of us were already seated with our respective meals in front of us. Camila was about to take the head of the table while I was to her right with Ally on the other side. To my right was Normani and in front of her was Dinah who was right next to Ally. It was still surreal to actually be sitting with all five of us but it was a welcomed change; or should I say, a revert to normal. Normal was established on that Friday that I showed up to school for the first time and I wouldn't change it for anything. Between the chair and having Camila back, I was getting shamefully emotional.
"I missed that chair." Dinah remarked while the others were quick to agree. She craned her neck towards Camila who was about to sit as if inspecting the meager object; scrutinizing it with a movement of the brows. "I think I missed that more than I missed you, Chanch." She mustered her best playful grin before fixating her eyes on her macaroni and cheese in front of her.
Camila flashed a mocking smile to Dinah's head, exaggerating the narrowing of her eyes with an eerily tilted her head. It was adorable to watch but something in me couldn't resist but lean to plant a kiss on my girlfriend's cheek and slowly pull away.
"I missed you." I confessed in a low voice with eyes that I hoped exuded as much sincerity as my words. "I never want to see your spot empty ever again."
"I missed you, too." The brown of Camila's eyes instantaneously softened while her lips tugged to reveal a small smile. Her shoulders slumped down in utter contentment. "Never again, Lolo."
She set her hands on either side of my face and gently pulled me in. We met halfway and the blissful smile on my lips became an outward representation of the celebration in my being. Displaying affection in public is a wordless profession of how proud a person is to have their partners. While our friends made playful gagging noises and various groans, Camila and I knew they were merely uncomfortable because we were friends and not because we're of a "completely different species".
"Let's just celebrate the fact that we're all here and happier than ever." Ally spoke up, silencing the other two girls with us. Her lips portrayed an exuberant grin just as I would expect from the older girl. The nods and various mumbles of agreement immediately followed and I was more than thankful for Allyson. Camila and I might have had to endure little mischievous comments here and there from the Polynesian if she hadn't stepped in.
"I'm tempted to propose a toast but it won't be as fun with just water bottles." Dinah muttered, giggling sheepishly. "Champagne sounds so much better."
"I think we've had enough of that over New Year's, Dinah." Normani chastised with a gentle shake of the head but laughed regardless.
While some teachers who see Camila and I would either look at us the same way as they do a heterosexual couple, others would grimace as if that affectionate gesture was disgusting. It was the same with our schoolmates. A lot of times we were ignored like the rest of the couples. However, there were some derogatory comments dropped here and there, along with some sneering and mocking. Being called names would have been tragic if we cared about them.
Camila nor I never cared about what people thought of us individually and when we didn't quite get the same love our friends and my family have bestowed upon us as a couple, we shrugged them off. As "evolved" as the world is, there is still prejudice against what's not considered normal. Some might fear change while others abhor them completely and I don't blame anybody for it. Some were brought up to have that unreasonable hate towards gay people and even when they mature, they would not be able to look past such disdain considering they were wired to feel that way.
As for Jette, I seem to be unable to scrape off the engraving she left in my head. Her pained face had been eternally haunting me since I saw it that morning. Each time the vision of the blonde decided to overcloud my senses, it looked more and more like I personally held the knife that was plunged deeper and deeper in her chest.
Camila only really cared about what her family thinks and that was what I asked her at the end of the day. We were in my girlfriend's pickup truck, about to head home and call it a day. The mini vacation both of us took over the holidays made our bodies programmed for relaxation. I was oddly drained and could barely keep my eyes open.
"Are we hiding us from your parents?" I cautiously asked while I took the reigns on the car stereo, tapping on buttons of the small touchscreen in the middle of the dashboard until I found "Golden Leaves" by Passenger. The securely buckled seat belt limited my movements, boring the strap against my clothed skin.
I heard my girlfriend sigh heavily while she leaned back on the cushioned seat. Her parents and her collective extended family were the reason why she had to part with Jette and I'd be lying if I said that did not stir the security I felt in our relationship. But somehow, a shy flicker of light had made itself perceivable to me. It had been two years after all and maybe she had nurtured enough courage to fight for her happiness this time. Regardless though, I knew I'd fight for her no matter what.
"I don't want to." Camila retorted in a hushed tone, her gaze was set towards the throng of students running out of the school doors and into freedom; at least, for the day. The remorse in her voice was apparent and she reluctantly adjusted her head so she was facing me. Her eyes were already slightly glossed and her entire face just looked pained. "But we have to for now. I'll honestly understand if you don't wa-"
"It's okay, Camz." I interjected, resting my hand on her thigh while I leaned closer to her. "I promise, it is. You and I can talk to them when you're ready. I'll be right there beside you." I assured her with a tight lip smile. My voice slightly wavered as my unsettling feelings over talking to her disapproving parents surfaced.
I had no earthly idea how I was ever going to talk to the two doctors knowing full well that their welcoming grins could just magically contort into something along the lines of disgust in a snap of a finger. Just the thought of sitting on a couch while they angrily paced back and forth in front of us ignited my supposedly slowed down pulse.
"Thanks, Lo." Camila slightly pecked the tip of my nose before attaching her lips to mine. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
All the while, I kept thinking about the risks and corresponding repercussions of our actions at school. With that much people knowing of our relationship through rumors or first hand knowledge, word was bound to reach the ears of the Cabello's. A part of me thought that maybe we were being too reckless, but how else was I supposed to show her I love her? Keeping our love within the confines of a secure four-walled space wasn't exactly the embodiment of pride. I was not certain as to how Camila would react and if she decided to just drop me like some worthless garbage like she did with Jette, I'd be devastated.
The next couple of weeks had been quite eventful. We all were being blundered by the February 1 deadline of universities and colleges we planned on applying to. I found out Camila hadn't even sent a single college application but had gathered requirements and wrote essays just like I did. We were ready to send them out by the third week of January, making sure to apply to multiple and similar colleges to give us options and make sure we spend the next four years of our lives together. Neither of us were thrilled by the thought of a long distance relationship.
I noticed two of Camila's choices were both in Indiana; Purdue University and University of Notre Dame. I was eyeing University of Washington in Washington state and Stanford University in California. We both applied to all four but applied to University of Florida and University of Pennsylvania, as well to ensure we'd have options.
Everything seemed to have been in place and I was calmed by Camila's unwavering affection amid the eyes of the public. We held hands and shared kisses along the halls of the school. It wasn't any different when we decided to have lunch beyond the school premises. Camila was still the same affectionate little koala. My fears were somehow quelled despite the nagging knowledge of her parents' possible disapproval.
It was finally a Saturday, a week before February, Camila and I were sprawled on my bed, aimlessly staring at the ceiling. We had just returned from mailing envelopes upon envelops of our requirements and the waiting ensued. I reached for her hand and kissed the back before I set our intertwined hands over the middle of my chest.
"Do you think we'll make it through college without breaking up?" Camila tore through the silence, eyes solemnly closed.
I swiveled my head towards her, resting my cheek on the pillow. I studied her side profile from her brows, her concealed eye, the slope of her nose, down to her full lips and the expanse of her perfectly smooth skin. Seeing her alone cause a disturbance in my chest; minute infarctions that are advents to the rapid beating of my heart which make me feel as though I would pass out.
"I'd like to think we will." I breathed, seeing as it was the only thing I was capable of. "If anything, I want you to know that I'll always be there for you."
I was easily flooded by emotions I felt for her. I hoped that my tone had enough conviction to tell her we will be fine even with problems coming our way. I was certain that after that particularly difficult time of our lives just a month ago, I would fight for her no matter what. I was just not sure if she believed that.
"Me, too." Camila mumbled, groggily peeling her eyes open. She glanced towards me, smiling delicately.
Camila readjusted her head and looked up at the ceiling once more. She was pensively somber which she was inclined to be every once in a while. But at the time, it looked as if she was greatly bothered by something. The deep and heavy, and evidently frustrated sigh she had just expelled proved my little theory. Her features weren't nearly as serene as they were just moments previously and her grip on my hand was tightening. I wanted to do something to make her feel better but she felt my heart race in my angst through the hand that was sitting against my chest and it was enough to make her look at me.
"Are you okay, Lo?" She asked to which I shook my head the best I could with the side of my face against the pillow.
I could have just played it off as if it was nothing and not add up to whatever it was that bothered her but my heavily beating heart was not helping. But if we were ever to move forward with our relationship, I couldn't lie to her.
"Did I do anything?" I asked her, searching her beautifully dark brown eyes. "What's wrong, Camz? What's bothering you?"
"I hate changes." Camila answered, timidly looking elsewhere. "We're about to head off to college and I was wondering what would happen to us if none of the six colleges we applied to accepted both of us. If they did, what if along the way we just grew apart? A lot of the changes that happened in my life were inclined towards the negative and I don't think I'll be able to stand an alteration where you merely just exist in my life and the thing that linked us would just be our past."
Somehow, Camila is a pessimist. Her tendencies to look into the future and see nothing but grim tomorrows frighten me sometimes and that was amid the brightness her features constantly displayed. It is good to look at life on a positive note but in reality, none of us have complete control over our lives. But I was holding onto our love for each other and I felt as though that will be enough. I did walked out on her once and maybe that contributed to her negativity.
I've heard it said before that the only constant thing in life is change. I am probably an embodiment of whatever wise person that came from. I moved from state to state, school to school, apartment to apartment, and all I've ever known was goodbye to everyone who I knew were only a temporary part of my life. The only constant thing that I had was my family and their physical presence, and even that changed in November of the previous year. But then, in the middle of my constantly mobile life, I met Camila and she's enough for me to realize that maybe change isn't that bad.
"Baby," I began. I let go of my girlfriend's hand and propped my head up with an elbow against the pillow. I reached over and set my arm over her midsection, gently running my hand over her side. "I don't know much about futures and tomorrows but I do know that you and I will have problems upon problems. There is no way to avoid that. But you should also have a little faith in us. I cannot apologize to you enough for turning my back on you but I promise you, this time, it's different."
All the while, Camila was looking down as if she was being nagged by a mother. She was a combination of sad, bashful and anxious and I knew I just had to see those brown eyes. I set my index finger underneath her chin while the tip of my thumb caressed the area underneath her lower lip, and gently coaxed her to look up.
"Camz, I love you. I don't want you to just know that, I want you to feel it, too." I urgently professed. I needed her to feel that I do and that desperate necessity frightened my soul. "I'm yours for as long as you'll have me. Change isn't that bad. It's what brought us together."
"Of all the changes life decided to slap me with, you becoming my girlfriend is favorite. In a decade or much less, I would like to make another change and call you my wife." Slowly, Camila's lips curved into the smallest, subtlest smile and I just wanted to do a victory dance. " And I love you, Lauren Jauregui."
"I'd like that."
Truthfully, I could not breathe. There was a weight in the middle of my chest just because I was too happy. I would have cowered away with the prospect of being bound by wedding vows and weddings bands, but I didn't. It was Camila and I was certain she was the only person I would love to spend the rest of my life with amid the reality that it could just be a little too hasty.
A generic ringing sounded off from the bedside table with a corresponding tremor that caused the device to shift in its place. It was Camila's phone. She reached for it and situated it a foot from her face. It was her father and for some odd reason, my stomach twisted in knots; tight and painful ones. If that wasn't enough, Camila's features drained of color and her natural olive skin looked dull.
"I have to take this." She mumbled before swinging her legs over at the edge of the bed and sat with shoulders slumped down. She looked at her phone for a good moment, sighing as if to compose herself. Cautiously, she pressed the green button on the screen and gently set the phone against her ear.
I slowly sat up, crossing my legs in front of me. I watched from Camila's back, my nerves had successfully claimed my entire consciousness, and I felt incredibly restless and drained at the same time. I needed to know why I was so worked up all of a sudden but my gut just knew something was wrong. As irrational and maybe idiotic as it sounded, I knew because I felt it.
"Dad?" Camila muttered with a timid voice.
I could hear a stifled murmur of the man's voice which couldn't have been any more than two words. Despite my inability to decipher his words, I could tell his delivery was stern and demanded as much respect. My girlfriend proceeded to nod and limply dropped her hand that clutched the phone down to her lap.
I was about to ask Camila if everything was okay but I was beaten to it by a soft ring, signaling a message had been received. She tensed instantaneously and raised her head slowly until she was staring right at the ceiling. Camila looked utterly defeated and I fought through my crippling anxiety, crawling towards the edge of the bed, to her right.
"My parents know." Camila sadly breathed. She bit her lip nervously, blinking incessantly while her gaze finally set to the other side of the room. She blindly reached for my hand and squeezed it as tight as can be, ridding it with color and replaced with a dull white shade. "Someone told them. My mom sent a text."
I just knew that day would come but even with the knowledge up my arsenal, it didn't reduce the blow. Whatever it was that rendered my girlfriend defenseless, clouded my own bravery, as well. Something in me was shrinking and maybe that was my backbone. I easily succumbed to fear; the feeling demanded my full attention and obliterated the foundation of my convictions. An inexplicable feeling of being choked crowded my neck and the lump in my throat constricted my airways. I began to panic. The Cabello's know and there was no use in lying to myself and hold onto a false sense of hope that they might come around. The way Camila recounted the events that transpired two years ago proved just how rigid of an obstacle her parents are.
"W-Who?"
"I don't know." My girlfriend shook her head aimlessly and I knew that that was something she did to deny herself of the information that had just been unraveled to her. "But whoever told them made sure my parents were furious."
The tension was evident in Camila's voice and I was slowly lured out of my own despondency to offer whatever little comfort I could to the girl who needed it most. It wasn't me who was probably going to be disowned the second time, it was her and as unfair as that sounded, there wasn't much we could do.
I twisted my entire body to look at her, hoisting my left leg up on the bed to allow for the position. I lifted my free hand up to her cheek to stop her from shaking her head. I was past speechless and my ability to formulate any coherent sentences had been compromised. All I could offer was a pathetic question with a blatant answer haunting me right before my eyes.
"Are you okay?"
Camila shook her head once more but never seemed to feel the need to glance at me. Frankly, I don't think I was ready to see the despair in her eyes but I needed to be there for her. The moment I had been praying for, the kind that would prove my love for her and that I will never turn my back on her, had come. I never thought the first bump in our supposedly endless paved road would be the toughest.
"Camz. Hey, look at me." I coaxed with a heart beating out of my chest.
I cautiously wriggled my hand loose and set it on the other side of her face. I gently guided her so our eyes would meet and when the glossed pools of chocolate irises locked with mine, my heart broke. The brown eyes that were always filled with nothing but contagious glee had been clouded by a conspicuously portrayed terror.
"Babe, listen to me. I need you to listen to me." I desperately implored, forcing myself to lock eyes with her. I breathed through my mouth, desperate to replenish the oxygen in my lungs. "I'm scared, too; I'm honestly terrified. But I'm never leaving you, okay? Not anymore." I slightly shook my head but my gaze was securely fastened to hers anxious eyes. "I've done terrible things in my life that made me lose things that I hold close to my heart but nothing was as devastating as the day I turned my back on you. Camz, I'm scared but I'm more afraid of losing you. We're going to face this together. Are you okay with that?"
In a swift movement, Camila scooted over and her head resided in the middle of my chest, pressed firmly while her arms slung around my torso. I wrapped mine across her back, my right hand gripped her left upper arm while the other settled on her lower back, pulling her closer to me. There was urgency in her actions and her solid walls crumbled upon the physical contact. Moisture from the salty droplets that descended upon her eyes seeped to my shirt while a sporadic tremor emanating from her shoulders shook us. Soft whimpers filled the small confines of the room and if I thought my heart had already been broken enough, I was wrong. Just hearing her cry broke me and not just my heart.
"I got you. It's okay." I planted a kiss on her head. My own nasal cavity had been flooded while the my throat grew sore with the swelling lump. But I couldn't cry. I needed to be strong for her; I desperately needed to.
My girlfriend sobbed in my arms as I fought to contain my own tears. I furiously blinked, taking deeper breaths to calm my turbulent emotions. All the while, I kept picturing a future without her and I was slowly sinking down to a cold, unwelcoming abyss.
I stayed in Miami because of her even if I told myself I had multiple other reasons to. Normalcy isn't limited to one scenario and while others meant being in one place for most their lives, mine was constantly relocating to cater to my mother's job. It was normal for me to bid good friends goodbye and make new ones in another city but I knew I had to let them go one day. It used to be drinking and partying endlessly, and pretending I was the world's best daughter in the land; in turn, the world's greatest hypocrite.
But since I met Camila, my version of normal was significantly deviated. It became quiet days at the park, sharing a meal at a quaint cafe, reading a book with legs dangling by the pool deck, cuddling in bed, long walks hand-in-hand and intimate conversations. I completely fell in love with that life, maybe just as much as I love the girl, and that is all the normal I want.
Camila pulled back with a sigh, furiously wiping her damp cheeks and moist eyes. "I have to go. They want to talk to me."
The brown-eyed brunette was quick to be on her feet, slipping her phone in her pocket while retrieving the keys on the bedside table. She was blatantly averting my gaze, fixating it on the floor instead. She was in a hurry to get out of there, maybe to get away from me. Her demeanor sparked another form of fear in my chest; it wasn't just her parents' disapproval, I feared that walking out of the house meant walking out of my life, too.
"Camz." I spoke up, setting my feet on the ground and prudently yet apprehensively standing. She was reaching for the brass knob but stopped just as she heard my voice. I inhaled deeply, swallowing hard. My voice seemed to have been caught somewhere in my vocal chords as I had never heard as small of a noise emanate from my mouth. "Are you breaking up with me? Should I be b-"
"No, Lauren. No." Camila swiftly trudged back to me, shaking her head with a pained look upon her tear-stained, reddened face. She fastened her hands on either side of my face; her wary brown eyes brimmed with tears once more. "I love you, okay? I've never loved anyone as much as I love you and if that means being completely disowned by my family, I'll personally emancipate myself for you."
Camila moved to seize my lips, pouring out every ounce of love into the gesture. I felt my resolve melt away when a tear slipped from my eye. It felt different from the previous kisses we engaged ourselves in. It was desperate and sent a haunting thought that it might be the last kiss we will share for a long time. I had to will myself from the severely depressing thoughts.
"I'll call you, okay?" She mumbled as she pulled away.
I found myself nodding as I stood frozen in the middle of the bedroom while I watched Camila disappear behind the door. And I was left there, alone and restless.
I attempted to ration my thoughts to what was reasonable. Knowing Camila, she wouldn't just leave me if she decided to. Her selflessness wouldn't have left me without a proper goodbye and even then, I knew she would have done something to keep our relationship afloat before giving up completely. Camila was willing to emancipate for me and that had got to mean something; it should have been able to silence my doubts. But I didn't want to be the reason for the disintegration of a family.
My mind traveled to the catalyst of the problem that Camila and I would have carefully approached had it not been suddenly dropped to our unprepared hands. There was only one name that I could think of and bile was quick to travel up my throat.
Janette. The name reverberated in my head as if somebody was speaking it right to my ear. Chills shot through the entire expanse of my skin, the miniscule hair that covered my forearms and the base of my neck were erect. I felt cold, too cold that I figured my temperature had dropped. My hands grew clammy, thinly veiled with moisture. I shivered while my heart was nothing but a rapidly beating mess; desperate to keep me alive.
I had to do something and I had to do it fast.
I trudged downstairs with urgency and reached the front door in record speed. I was certain my heavy footsteps created loud thuds that wouldn't go unnoticed. I yelled out an apology and continued my journey to Camila's car. Moments later, I was on the road, starting my 50-minute journey towards the contemporary house and I could not recall an incidence where such rush coursed through my veins.
I needed to be with Camila and take the "repercussions" of our relationship with her. I needed to sit there and receive every bitter word her parents will utter. It wasn't fair. My head was swamped with a hodgepodge of desolate thoughts and overwhelming emotions. It was the longest 50 minutes of my life that I spent wiping stubborn tears that made a consistent appearance.
I hastily parked the car right outside the Cabello front door. Camila's car was on the driveway. At least, she was safe. I thought my nerves were already brimming but I was proven wrong when my legs were physically hard to move. It was as if there were hands on the ground, keeping my feet in place. I was easily becoming lightheaded and the sweat that unearthed through the pores were cold. The physical activity depleted the supply of oxygen in my lungs and my anxiety exasperated the situation; I was panting.
My fist hovered in the air, a couple of inches away from the heavy timber structure that was separating me from my girlfriend. With a deep breath I forcefully hammered my knuckles against the door. The sound I created was confident enough, commanding enough which was the exact opposite of what I was at that moment.
Soon, the stifled sound of soft yet rushed pitter-patter of the heels filled my ears and I found the door swinging in rapidly to reveal an irritated looking Alejandro Cabello. He was in his typical long-sleeved button down with a tie dangling from his neck, slacks and black leather shoes. His salt and pepper hair was kept neatly and his features was the only disheveled mess. He looked exceptionally erudite. However, eyes widened as brows raised while his mouth slightly parted. Clearly, he was not expecting to see me.
I had just realized I was not ready to speak to him. I had just thoughtlessly drove up to their home without a rehearsed line. I was unable to swallow despite how many times I tried; my efforts were futile. My hands mindlessly reached for the hem of my plaid shirt, digging my nails on it while I struggled to hold the older man's intimidating gaze. I could internally hear my pounding heart in my ears while my entire forehead was glazed with minute beads of sweat.
The knowledge that the red sedan his daughter owned that I drove practically stood out and caught his gaze caused nerves to bubble furiously. If I were to predict the future of our relationship, I'd be inclined to say it definitely looks bleak just by the look in her father's eyes.
"Is Camila here, sir?" I squeaked, my head sinking in fright.
"Karla isn't here." He sternly spoke, his expressions molded into rock-hard condescension that I almost didn't recognize the man. Just a couple of days ago he was all smiles and he could not stop offering me enough food and hospitality, and I was faced with him just standing there with the gap of the slightly parted door filled by his body. It was obvious that I wasn't welcome anymore and it sank a venomous dagger in my chest.
I tentatively nodded. In reality, I had no words to say to him. My courage had fled and abandoned me immediately after the man appeared. I figured I wouldn't be able to do much or say much given that I seem to have been physically unable to speak. Slowly, I turned to my back to saunter towards my car. Before I could even take my first step, Alejandro spoke.
"And Lauren, I think it's best that you do not come back here anymore." A light click of the door signaled his retreat towards the comfort of his home and I was far from being comforted. I was absolutely alone and our friends were at least 30 minutes away.
My thoughts were in total shambles and hurt could not even justify what I was feeling. I was devastated. I was physically and emotionally drained, and ideally, I would have sought the comfort of my bed but I needed to do one more thing. If I cannot defend Camila and our relationship from her parents, for now, there was someone I needed to see and I was certain I had enough fight in me to confront her.
I drove the familiar and loathsome road towards the small Spanish style house that I had not traveled in a good while. Despite time, I found old unsettling feelings creeping back into my chest as the fateful night replayed in my head, constantly reminding me of a mistake I have been so desperately trying to bury in the back of my mind. My fear had slowly been replaced by fury that was still ablaze, devouring every bit of the meager calmness in my system.
I banged my fist against the door, even kicking it for good measure.
The blonde emerged with the still uncharacteristically longer, loser clothes. Her tousled blonde hair poked at different directions while her groggily blinking eyes widened at the sight of me. I had yet to confront her with what happened, or what didn't happen, on my last night in that house and the sight of her caused my blood to boil. The possibility of her being the person responsible for the dilemma Camila and I were forced to face intensified my rage.
There was no pity or compassion in the horizon, I was just infuriated.
"What do you want, Laurie?"
***One or two chapters more!!! THANK YOU!!! Take it easy! :)