What a day, I thought to myself as I observed the scene before me.
The X Factor after party was in full swing and everyone was having a great time. Music blasted through the speakers, lights lit up the dance floor, food was littered on every table, and not a single soul was in bad spirits. It was a memory in the making, and although I wanted to enjoy the party aspect as much as possible, the real thrill came from the smile plastered on Camila's face as she danced carelessly with the other girls. I knew it would be short lived, but in that moment, she didn't care what people thought of her. She was being herself, and the sound of her unfiltered laughter piercing through her favorite songs made my heart flutter ten times faster than usual.
"You look like you're having a great time," I observed, leaning down so that she could hear me.
"What do you expect? I'm in the middle of the best day of my life," she smiled.
"I bet I know what would make it better," I teased, a seductive tone to my voice.
She raised her eyebrow, waiting for my response.
"They have pizza," I smirked.
"I guess I'll go get some," she sighed. "Pizza isn't exactly what I was planning on eating, but it'll have to do."
She winked and I felt my cheeks turn red at her insinuation.
"I'll go get us some," I offered, trying desperately to get out of the situation before I embarrassed myself.
I pushed through the crowd and made my way to the food table, her words echoing in my mind. That wasn't normal for Camila. She was usually so awkward and uncomfortable in situations like that, and her sudden change of heart made me wonder if my perception was just off or if advancing on the show gave her an adrenaline rush that elicited a newfound sense of confidence. Either way, I was surprised she had said it at all, and the words toyed with my mind and sent chills throughout my whole body every time I thought of them, the muscles in my stomach twisting in a way I never knew was possible.
"What's got you so worked up?" Keaton asked, appearing by my side and startling me.
I shook my head and cleared my throat, attempting to rid my mind of anything related to Camila for the time being but finding it nearly impossible.
"Nothing...I'm not worked up," I lied.
"Really? Because you look like you either need to cry or get laid. Or both," he laughed.
"We just advanced to the next show," I reminded him. "Obviously I don't need to cry."
"Ah, so you do need to get laid," he smirked.
"Why are we talking about this?" I snapped, turning away from him to grab a few slices of pizza.
"I'm your fake boyfriend, we're supposed to have these types of conversations," he said.
"I don't remember agreeing to that."
"Okay, fine, but no matter what I'm your friend and if you need to talk about something, I'm here," he promised me. "Besides, I doubt you plan on telling any of the girls about your lesbian fantasies considering none of them even know about you and Camila in the first place."
I scanned the crowd and located the girls, all of them laughing and dancing like the best of friends and nothing more. They had no idea what was going on between Camila and myself, and at the rate things were going, they wouldn't find out for a long time. Who did I have to talk to besides Keaton? He was the only one who knew, and so far he had kept our secret like he promised. I trusted him enough to keep another.
"Can we step outside?" I asked.
He nodded and headed for the door and I sat the pizza on the table, momentarily forgetting all about my earlier mission and eager to get everything off my chest.
We stepped out onto the balcony and Keaton shut the door behind us, muffling the music enough so that we could hear each other speak. We didn't say anything at first, both of us looking over the edge at the skyline and deciding who should make the first move.
"So are you going to tell me about your sexual frustration or do I have to pry it out of you," he said dryly.
"I don't exactly know where to begin..." I admitted. "I'm sixteen, I didn't even know what sex was until, like, three years ago."
"And it all spiraled out of control from there," he laughed. "You can talk to me, Lauren. I'm not going to judge you."
I sighed and thought about how to word what I was thinking.
"I don't think I'm sexually frustrated," I told him. "I mean, Camila and I kissed less than two days ago. I'm attracted to her, yeah, but we aren't at that stage yet. I think she's completely adorable and all I see when I look at her is this dorky little fangirl who's never been in a relationship and falls down a lot and has all these quirks...but then...she has these outbursts, these random moments of confidence, and God...I don't even know."
"Outbursts like what? Camila's the biggest dork I've ever met. I can't imagine her being anything other than that," Keaton chuckled.
"I thought that at first too, but it seems like the more time I spend with her, the more she comes out of her shell. Like when you found us kissing in the elevator earlier," I explained. "I was the one who kissed her, but it was her idea to sneak around, and I don't know, it's stupid, but it kind of makes me feel like she has a little bit of a wild side."
"So what, you're into bad girls or something? Every girl has a naughty side, Lauren, it's nothing to be surprised about. I just can't picture you being interested in someone like that. You're so...so," he stammered.
"Clean? I know. Perfect GPA, academic scholarship, raised to be polite, I get it. I'm a goody-two-shoes. I've heard it all before, but believe me when I say that you're not much of a wild child either, so you have no room to talk," I defended.
"So?" he snapped, his voice cracking.
"So don't you ever want...more? Don't you want to see what it's like to break the rules and fall in love with a bad girl and just live life for once?" I asked.
"Let me stop you right there," he said, holding out his hand for emphasis. "That's a nice little fantasy, but if that's what you want, I don't think you're going to find that with Camila. She's too awkward. She's not a bad girl and she never will be. Not all the time anyway."
"I know, that's the point," I huffed.
"Oh," he whispered, realization finally dawning on him. "You want Camila to be a bad girl for you. That's why you're so frustrated."
"That, and because every time she shows signs I don't know how to react and I end up running away or saying something stupid," I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
"I don't know, I just don't see it," he decided. "You're both too cute and sweet to be bad girls, as appealing as that sounds."
Before I could protest, I heard the door click open behind us and whirled around to see who had interrupted our conversation, praying that they hadn't heard anything.
"Lauren?" Camila's soft tone called from the doorway. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You never came back with our pizza."
"That's my fault," Keaton told her, saving me an explanation. "I was apologizing for Wes's behavior at breakfast earlier."
"We were just headed back inside, actually," I decided, pushing past Keaton and finding my place next to Camila. "What do you say we grab some pizza and get out of here?" I asked her.
"Yes please," she smiled. "I'm exhausted."
We walked back inside, my hand around her waist in a friendly gesture so that no one would think much of it. We grabbed a couple of slices of pizza and as Camila said goodnight to the girls, Keaton found me once again, leaning down so that only I could hear what he was saying.
"Hey, remember something," he started. "I know this may be pretty hard to believe coming from a guy, but keep in mind that if you're really that infatuated with her, it should be special. It doesn't matter when it happens, but make sure it makes her happy for more than a few minutes."
"Thanks for the advice," I chuckled, stepping around him and joining Camila at the exit.
"Candles help!" he called as we stepped into the hallway.
Camila and I made our way to the elevator and rode up in silence, both of us exhausted from the long day. She stopped by her room to pick up pajamas as I went into my bathroom to get ready for bed. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, my heart skipping a beat at the thought of kissing her later in the evening. I threw on a pair of cotton shorts and t-shirt, the California air still relatively warm besides the quickly approaching fall season. I smiled when I exited the room and saw Camila on the couch, already in her pajamas and well-prepared for yet another movie night.
"Can I take my pants off?" she asked bluntly. "I hate pants."
"You don't need to ask me that," I laughed.
"Thank God," she sighed, pulling her sweats off of her hips and throwing them on the back of the couch.
I tried my best to keep my eyes off of her as she made her way over to the couch, the effort proving to be physically painful as she stepped past me, her hand brushing lightly against my thigh. She sat upright and patted the cushion next to her, signaling for me to join her.
"Who, me?" I joked, pointing to myself and pretending to look around the room for someone else.
"Yes, you," she laughed. "We can't watch a movie without cuddling."
"Oh," I nearly gasped, "you...you want to cuddle?"
"Well, I did," she said, "but you're taking so long to get over here that I might fall asleep before we get the chance."
I stepped carefully over to the couch, nearly tripping over the coffee table as the thought of her body against mine drove me wild. I laid down across the cushions and she positioned herself between me and the back of the couch, laying her head on my chest and draping one arm across my torso, one leg wrapped around mine.
"You pick the movie tonight," she suggested. "I always pick."
"Or we could do this instead," I said, the weight of her body against mine finally becoming too much to bear as I pressed my lips to hers.
The feeling of her soft flesh molding into mine was refreshing. I felt a weight being lifted off my shoulders after having gone hours without the familiar contact. It elicited the same feeling it usually did, only this time I felt something more, and I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was until she pulled away and placed her head back on my chest.
"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned by her lack of enthusiasm.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, her voice shaky.
I could tell she was lying. I felt her heartbeat against my skin, beating faster than normal and picking up speed every few seconds. She was holding something back, and I was dying to know what it was.
"Are you nervous about something? Your heart's beating pretty fast," I pointed out.
"I'm fine," she snapped, annoyance evident in her tone.
"Camz, I don't have the energy to deal with bullshit excuses right now. Don't tell me you're fine when-"
She cut me off with a quick peck on the lips, catching me off guard.
"I'm fine," she repeated, staring into my eyes as if searching for reassurance for God knows what.
Our lips connected again, harder this time, and I could feel her sit up on one elbow for easier access. Her hand slid down my side and came to rest on my hipbone, causing the skin there to tingle at the touch. She sat up suddenly and shoved her hands under the back of her shirt, fiddling with her bra strap and growing more and more frustrated by the second.
"Camz, what are you doing?" I questioned.
"Trying to take my bra off," she answered.
"Yeah, I get that, but why?" I laughed, trying my best to mask the desperation in my voice but also genuinely confused by her actions.
"Because I want to," she answered just as dryly as before.
"You're not doing a very good job," I observed.
"Then do it for me," she demanded, no hint of uncertainty anywhere in her tone.
I sat up, stunned by her confidence, and furrowed my brow.
"It might be easier if you take your shirt off first," I shrugged.
"Only if you take yours off too," she countered.
I slid my shirt over my head without hesitation, my cheeks turning red upon noticing Camila's wandering eyes as I sat just inches from her in only my bra and shorts.
"Your turn," I nearly whispered.
She stood up completely off the couch, placing both hands on her hips as if contemplating something and then pulling her t-shirt over her head. I barely had time to look at her before she pushed me into the back of the couch, her legs straddling my lap and her lips reconnecting with mine. Her hands snaked up behind my neck and gripped the hair there as she pressed our mouths even closer together. I slid my hands down her back and rested them on her hips, pulling her into me and trying to wrap my mind around the situation. She slid her tongue along my bottom lip and I gasped at the gesture, allowing her to slip her tongue inside my mouth. We remained like that for several minutes, exploring each other's mouths until I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled back, trying to catch my breath, and pressed my forehead against hers. My fingertips grazed her skin as I slid my hands up her back again, stopping just below her bra strap.
"Camz..." I started, still confused about why she was suddenly all over me.
"Shut up," she interrupted. "Don't talk."
"But Camz I-"
She kissed me again, reaching behind her and grabbing my hands, placing them on her bra strap and indirectly instructing me to continue the process. I lingered there for a moment, tasting the kiss and trying to take in every detail of what was happening as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. I finally worked up the courage and tugged on the clasp, undoing it and sliding one strap down her shoulder until it hung loosely around her arm, but stopping myself from going any further upon hearing a faint knock at the door.
I tried to pull away but Camila wouldn't allow it, pulling me back into her with all her might.
"Camz," I mumbled against her lips. "I have to get the door."
"I'll get it," she sighed, clasping her bra but failing to put on any other clothes as she made her way to the door.
She opened it, evidentially not caring very much about who was on the other side, and revealed a stunned Keaton, his mouth gaping at the sight of Camila in nothing but her underwear.
"Uh, Lauren left her wallet at the party," he stammered, handing Camila the item.
"I'll give it to her," Camila promised.
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.
Camila turned back to me, looked me up and down, and then faced Keaton again.
"Yes," she answered, and she shut the door in his face.
She threw the wallet on the kitchen counter and came back over to me, returning to her prior position and resuming the kiss.
"Camz," I said, Keaton's interruption snapping me out of my daze long enough to notice that something wasn't right.
"Hmm," she sighed, breaking the contact long enough for me to crane my neck and look into her eyes.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked her.
I could see the fear in her eyes, and once I noticed it, I could feel it dripping out of her pores as well. It felt like fire against my skin, and I could tell that she was more nervous than she had ever been.
She pulled back and stared at me, a glassy look in her eyes.
"I'm not as much of a dork as you think I am," she answered.
She kissed me again, and I let her. I let her kiss me for a good ten seconds before I realized what she meant. She had heard my conversation with Keaton on the balcony- if not the whole thing, then parts of it. Enough of it. I had unintentionally added to her already low self esteem, and I mentally slapped myself for not being more careful to make sure she hadn't followed us. She was willing to give herself away to me to prove that she wasn't just an awkward, quirky fifteen year old, and that she could give me what I wanted without trouble.
"Camz, stop," I demanded. "Stop it right now."
She rolled her eyes and moved off of my lap, sitting on the couch and picking up her t-shirt. I turned so that I was facing her and took her hands in my own, trying my best to comfort her.
"We don't have to do this," I told her.
"I want to," she argued.
"No you don't, and neither do I," I said.
She raised her eyebrow at me, waiting for an explanation.
"Listen, Camz, I know you heard what I said to Keaton," I admitted. "The truth is, you turn me on, like...a lot, and yeah I think about you like that sometimes, but you don't have to completely give yourself up to me for me to like you."
"I like you because you're dorky, and quirky, and awkward and tell corny jokes. You're the cutest thing I've ever laid eyes on, and you don't need to prove that you're anything otherwise because I like all of those things about you," I continued. "One of these days we're both going to be ready and it'll happen, because I plan on being with you for a long time, but we don't need to rush anything, okay? I know you're not ready. That's nothing to be ashamed of."
"I don't want you to think I'm cute and awkward though," she said. "I want you to see me as more than a kid."
"You're fifteen, Camz. You have plenty of time to be sexy later down the road," I laughed.
"What if I never am though? What if I'm always awkward and I'll always be afraid to give it up? What if I never change?"
"Then I'll still stay with you," I told her. "I don't care if we never have another sexual thought about each other. I'm not with you for that. I'm with you for you."
"Look at you though," she sighed. "We're like polar opposites. You're only a few months older than me and you've already got every guy, and evidentially a few girls, trying to get you alone. I don't think I'll ever be like that."
"You're not going to look like a kid forever," I reminded her. "You're young. You'll change. I think you're beautiful right now, so I can't even fathom what you'll look like in the next year or two."
She sighed and slipped her t-shirt over her head. I grabbed mine and did the same, repositioning myself once I was finished so that I could rest my head on her shoulder and wrap my arm around her torso.
"What are we?" she asked, changing the subject completely.
"Teenagers," I answered. "Stupid teenagers."
"Well yeah, I know that," she laughed. "But I mean, what are we? Where are we in our relationship?"
"It's been less than two days," I reminded her. "I don't think we should put a label on ourselves or our relationship. It is what it is. It's easier that way. We just...are."
"As long as we have each other I don't care what we are," she told me.
"Good, now can we please watch a movie?" I chuckled.
"You still have to pick," she answered, a smile slowly creeping onto her face.
We resumed our original position on the couch, her head on my chest and our bodies as close as humanly possible as I flipped through channels. I decided on The Breakfast Club, turning on the last half hour of it but only getting through ten minutes before Camila fell asleep. I turned the TV off, letting the darkness swallow us and listening to the sound of her breath as I drifted off as well.
...
"Camz, please talk to me," I begged. "Just say something. Anything."
Camila looked down at her feet as a tear rolled down her cheek, not from sadness but from frustration. From months of effort and confusion gone to waste. From exhaustion. She was exhausted. She was done fighting.
"I can't do it anymore, Lauren," she sighed, her hands shaking harder than her voice. "It's too much. I can't take it."
"You can't give up. Not now," I sobbed. "I need you. You can't...you can't leave. This can't be the end."
"I'm sorry...I don't love you Lauren. Not like I thought I did. It's over," she said.
Her words pierced through my heart. They shot into my chest full force and pulled my rib cage apart, ripping my heart out of my chest and slamming it on the ground. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move.
I opened my mouth to protest but no sound would come out. I tried and tried to scream her name, just get her attention, tell her I loved her one last time, but all that came out was a muffled whisper. I had to stop her. She couldn't leave. I reached for her with all my might, desperately grabbing at any part of her that I could get my hands on but coming up short. I tried again, this time realizing that every time I tried to reach her, she was ten feet farther than her original position, and she was only getting farther. I couldn't reach her. I couldn't touch her and I couldn't call her name. I couldn't stop her, so I collapsed onto the floor, holding my knees to my chest and choking on my own spit as I sobbed, trying desperately to cling to my fleeting memories of her.
"Don't go," I whispered. "I love you."
I woke with a start, drenched in sweat and unaware of my surroundings.
Thank God, I thought. It was just a dream.
I felt a sense of relief wash over me but started to panic once more when I realized that Camila was no longer in her place between my body and the couch. We had evidently fallen asleep on the couch the night before, but now she was no nowhere to be seen. I stood abruptly, spinning around on the spot and trying to locate her.
"Camz!" I called, the fear that my dream might not have been a dream at all eating me alive.
"Camz, where are you?" I shouted again, running to the bedroom to continue my search.
Everything was exactly how I had left it- the bed was made, my bags were organized and Camila was nowhere to be seen. The bathroom door stood open but no light spilled out from inside, furthering my proof that she was nowhere in the tiny hotel room.
I sprinted to the front door, swinging it open and bursting into the hallway, running smack into a petite form, knocking a book and a bag of chips out of their hand.
"Lauren, are you okay?" Camila asked, bending down to pick up her belongings.
I grabbed her arm and pulled her back up, placing my hands on her stomach and pushing her against the wall, our lips connecting forcefully. I lingered there for a moment, hesitating to pull back and noticing Camila doing the same as I tried.
"Are you okay?" she repeated.
"I just really wanted to kiss you," I told her, and it was true.
It was stupid of me to believe that my dream had become a reality, but the thought of being without her made me tremble. I had never been so afraid in my life, and I needed reassurance that it had been nothing but my imagination running wild.
"Why?" she pressed, sensing something was wrong. "You're shaking. What's wrong?"
"I had a nightmare," I informed her.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, concern evident in her tone as she reached down and retrieved her possessions.
"No, it was just a dream," I sighed, backing up so that she had enough space to crouch down.
"I should have told you where I was going."
"No, it's okay, really. It just scared me. I'm okay now though," I promised.
I took her hand in my own, forgetting that we were standing in the hallway, and kissed her quickly on the lips, the familiar feeling immediately comforting me.
"Can we go get breakfast?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Yeah, you go ahead. I'm sure the girls are already there. I'm going to change," she answered.
"I can wait," I called as she started towards her room.
"No, go ahead. I'll catch up," she dismissed, disappearing inside and shutting the door.
I made my way down to the lobby and gathered my breakfast, locating the girls and taking my usual seat next to Ally.
"Where's Mila?" Dinah questioned.
"I don't know," I lied, trying not to allude to the fact that we had been together the night before. "I figured she was here already."
She just shrugged and continued picking at her food.
"What's wrong with him?" Ally whispered to me, nudging my arm and nodding in Keaton's direction. "He looks like he's seen a ghost."
I glanced quickly at Keaton, the look on his face clearly portraying his surprise from finding Camila and I together the night before.
"Yeah, a ghost...that's what he saw," I said sarcastically enough that only I knew I was joking.
We all continued to eat our breakfast, small conversations popping up here and there about the day's events until Camila finally joined us. She sat next to me instead of taking her usual seat in between Normani and Dinah, and I felt my face grow hot at her close proximity.
"So Mila," Dinah started, "I went to your room to wake you up this morning and you weren't there. Again."
I felt Camila tense up next to me. I knew she hated being put on the spot, but there was no way I could save her without drawing attention to our relationship.
"Where do you run off to every night?" Dinah continued when Camila didn't respond.
"N-nowhere," Camila stammered. "I get up early and go downstairs to find a new book, that's why I'm never in my room first thing in the morning."
I squeezed her knee approvingly under the table, remembering the novel she held in her hands earlier and silently praising her for her quick thinking.
"Really? That's all? Because I went by last night too," Dinah retorted, catching both of us off guard. "You weren't there then either."
"Why do you make it sound like I'm up to something?" Camila snapped. She had a playful tone to her voice but I could tell she was about to break under all the pressure.
"We don't think you're up to anything," Normani chimed in. "We just think that you're in some secret relationship that you won't tell us about and you're sneaking out every night to see this mystery person."
"And if that's the case, we want details," Ally added.
"Alright guys, you caught me," Camila sighed, throwing her napkin on the table and leaning back against her chair. "I'm secretly dating Lauren."
Each of the girls exchanged an expectant look, waiting for her to continue.
"I sneak out of my room every night and sleep in her room. Last night we left the party together and went back to her place, things got pretty heated, we almost...you know...and Keaton caught us. That's why he keeps looking over at us. You caught me. I'm in a secret lesbian relationship with Lauren and I don't care who knows it," she finished, crossing her arms over her chest and staring across the table at Dinah.
I couldn't move. I wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time, but all I could do was sit there with my mouth hanging wide open, waiting to see how the girls would react.
"No, but really," Dinah dismissed, "who is it? Who are you sneaking out every night to see?"
Camila smirked and continued eating her breakfast. "No one, I promise. I'm way too awkward to pull something like that off. You guys should know that by now."
Dinah rolled her eyes and got up to throw her trash away, the other two girls remaining seated but not speaking another word about the topic.
Camila found my hand under the table and locked her fingers in mine, squeezing gently to assure me that she had successfully avoided the conversation. I smiled at her but couldn't help but think of the irony of the situation. She had just confessed everything to the girls all at once. She had spoken truthfully of the night prior and even given details. She had completely let our secret slip, and still no one bought it. It felt great to finally get that in the open, but I couldn't help but worry that if other people couldn't tell how much I cared for her, could she?
•••
As a side note, my girlfriend and I have started a YouTube channel and would love for you guys to check us out. If you enjoy watching us, like, comment, and subscribe! Here's the link!
https://m.youtube.com/channel/UC4ZJ21CQo3RKqz-CIpuVgyQ