"Happy birthday!" I exclaimed, wrapping my arms around Normani's neck and squeezing her tightly.
"Thanks, Lo," she squeaked, returning the gesture.
The girls and I, along with the majority of Normani's family members, were gathered around the couch in our living room, exchanging presents and snacking on cupcakes.
"How does it feel to be legal?" Ally asked her.
"Weird," she answered. "I'm an adult now..."
"Don't worry Manibear," Camila cooed. "You may be old now but you're as lively as you were yesterday."
A small chuckle escaped Normani's lips and she shoved Camila's arm playfully, toppling her over onto my lap. She sat up but remained pressed to me, resting her head on my shoulder.
"Are you sure you girls don't want to come to dinner?" Normani's mom asked sympathetically.
"No, it's really okay," I assured her. "You guys go out as a family and have fun. We need a break from Mani every now and then anyway."
Her mother laughed and kissed her head, wrapping her arm around her shoulders and pulling her into her body.
"We should probably get going," she announced. "Don't want to miss our reservations."
Normani stood off the couch and grabbed her jacket, walking towards the door with her family.
"Will you guys be okay without me?" she questioned.
"I think we'll survive," Dinah teased. "Have fun!"
Normani smiled and walked out of the apartment, leaving the rest of us in a comfortable silence until Ally stood up and stretched.
"Anyone want to go shopping with me?" she asked.
Dinah's hand shot into the air faster than we could register and she sprung off the couch, sprinting towards the door and holding it open halfway.
"Mila, you coming?" she wondered.
"Nah," Camila shrugged. "I'm not really in a shopping mood."
Dinah looked towards me and I shook my head no. I wasn't in a shopping mood either, but it was mostly because I was only in a Camila mood. I savored every second of alone time I had with her. It was a gift, definitely not something I had any intentions of wasting.
"Suit yourselves," Dinah huffed, walking out the door with Ally on her trail.
Camila snatched the remote off the coffee table and flipped the TV on, leaning back so she was sprawled across my lap with her head on my shoulder. I loved holding her. I loved the weight of her body on mine and the warmth that she emitted and the way I could feel her shake with laughter. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her head and she looked up at me in response, biting down on her bottom lip in the way that only she was capable of. It was so adorable yet so arousing, and all I wanted to do was kiss her.
"Why'd you turn the TV on if you know all we're going to do is make out?" I asked.
She smiled and clicked it off, throwing the remote to the side and repositioning herself so that she was straddling my lap. Both of her hands cupped my face and she pressed her lips gently to mine. She pulled back and stared at me, watching me intently, but for once I didn't think there was anything on her mind except for me. She didn't have that glassy look or distant stare and her eyes didn't wander away from me after a few seconds. She just looked at me. Only me.
"Your eyes are so beautiful," she whispered.
"You're probably just looking at your reflection," I smirked.
"Smooth," she laughed, rolling her eyes playfully and connecting our lips again.
Our mouths molded together in unison, parting and closing around each other until she slipped her tongue inside. She was gentle, exploring every detail of my mouth and leaving behind a strangely intoxicating trace of her taste. Her kiss wasn't hungry or demanding; it was soft and curious, like she was trying to discover me once more. The way she held my face between her hands and kissed me until her lungs begged for air elicited a feeling- most likely in both of us- that I hadn't experienced for a long time. It was like our first kiss all over again- full of wonder and questions and promise, but most of all the realization that I didn't really know her. Two years she had been in my life and it felt like she had been absent for half of it, and that was precisely the problem. I knew who she was- that she liked to listen to sad songs when she was happy and happy songs when she was sad, and that she loved every color because colors made everything bright and vivid, and that she used to be afraid to sing in front of people after she moved to the states from Cuba. I knew that there was plenty that she didn't like about herself even though I always tried to convince her otherwise, and I knew she could find humor in any situation and that her favorite movie was The Notebook and that she wanted love more than anything else, but that was the old Camila. That was fifteen year old Camila, the Camila I fell in love with. I wanted to know seventeen year old Camila and I wanted to know why on earth I still loved her two years later when she hardly allowed me inside her mind. I wanted to tear her walls down once again and refuse to let her rebuild them. I separated our lips and looked into her eyes. They were the same eyes, I just wondered how she saw things now.
"Let me take you to dinner," I offered.
"Lauren, I'm perfectly happy staying here. We don't have to do anything special," she argued.
"I know, but I want to," I insisted. "I want to go on a date for once and not have it end in us fighting. I just want to have a nice evening with you, okay? My treat."
"Lauren..."
"We're going to dinner," I concluded. "Go get dressed."
She sighed and backed off of my lap, standing over me and running a hand through her hair.
"What should I wear?" she asked.
"Something nice," I told her. "You'll look beautiful no matter what."
A slight smile spread across her lips and she headed for the door, leaving me to get ready myself. I pushed myself off the couch and walked into my room and straight to my closet, examining its contents for the longest time until I finally decided on a plain white dress. It didn't matter what I wore. I knew I couldn't outdo Camila, and I had no intention to. I stepped into the dress and walked over to the mirror, combing out my hair and letting it fall in natural waves over my shoulders. I touched up my makeup a bit and grabbed my bag off my dresser, heading for the door and walking out. I slowly made my way to Camila's apartment, knowing she was probably taking her time getting ready. I wiggled the door handle before knocking and found that it was open so I let myself inside, but before I could make it to Camila's room she appeared in the doorway, looking just as stunned to see me as I was to see her. She stood up straighter and stared down at her outfit, folding her hands together in front of her and nervously rocking back and forth on her heels.
"Do I look okay?" she worried. "I kind of just threw on the first thing I found."
My jaw hit the floor and my head spun rapidly as I took in the sight in front of me. She wore a black and white dress with a flowing skirt that reached the middle of her thighs and hung down in the back, adorned with a pair of plain black heels and the necklace I had given her for Christmas. Her hair cascaded down her back except for where it was pinned back on either side, allowing me to see her face and those hypnotizing brown eyes completely.
"You...you look gorgeous," I stammered.
"Thank you," she chuckled, her cheeks flushing red. "You do too, as always."
She stepped forward to meet me in the entryway and held out her hand, silently asking for me to take it.
"Shall we?" she smiled.
I locked my fingers with hers and we started down the hallway, inching closer and closer to what I expected to be one of the best memories of my life.
...
"This is super fancy," Camila observed as I pulled her chair out for her.
She sat down and looked around the restaurant, complete with white table cloths lit by candles and a pianist for entertainment.
"It's been a while since we went on a proper date," I realized. "I wanted to make it special."
"Well, you really went all out," she grinned.
I loved that smile- the one that belonged to my words. The one that promised me she was happy to be with me. That was my favorite smile of hers. The waiter came and took our orders and left just as quickly as he arrived, leaving us in a comfortable silence as we sipped our drinks. She was so effortlessly beautiful no matter what she did. The way her eyes wandered the restaurant and glistened with the light of the candle, the way she caught herself smiling every once in a while and tried to keep a straight face, even the way her lips pressed to the edge of her glass as she drank was so mesmerizing to me. She drew me in so quickly that I almost forgot the real reason I wanted to take her out, but I snapped out of my daze when our food arrived and remembered that I was only interested in hearing her voice that night. She took a bite of her food and gave me a thumbs up, causing a light chuckle to escape my lips.
"Good choice," she complimented.
"I thought you might like it," I laughed.
"If there's one thing you should know about me by now, it's that I take my food very seriously," she said. "You really outdid yourself."
I wanted to know more. I felt like I should have known more, but I had been so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I'd barely heard hers. I was ready to listen. I was ready to know her again.
"Do you remember that time we snuck out of the hotel during the show and went to the diner?" I asked.
"Of course," she chuckled.
"Do you remember what we talked about?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "You asked what made me happy and I went off on some long tangent about a bunch of stupid, trivial little things. It was kind of annoying."
"I don't think it was annoying," I assured her. "I liked hearing what made you happy."
"Yeah, well, none of it is true now," she sighed. "Everything I mentioned was about me. It was all about the minor little details that made me smile on a daily basis and I didn't even stop for a second to think about how those things might change one day."
"So?" I questioned. "You answered the question. I mean, what's the big deal? What makes you happy now?"
She sat her fork down on her plate and leaned forward in her chair, folding her arms across the table and looking off in someone unknown direction while she thought. Her attention turned back towards me and a quick smile grazed her lips, but she became serious again as she began to speak.
"I always used to answer that question the same way," she started. "I would rack my brain for all the tiny little details of my life that made me smile when they occurred, but I never thought about what made me truly happy. I never mentioned the things that were always there, always making me smile on the inside even if I wasn't on the outside. I would talk about flowers or the smell of coffee in the mornings- which I do love- but I realized something. I realized that those little details, those momentary escapes from reality, they mean nothing if they're not shared. They could be shared with a stranger or a loved one, but they're still shared and that's what makes me truly happy."
"I do love the smell of coffee in the mornings," she continued, "but it means the most to me when I'm lying in bed with the sheets wrapped around me and I remember how I fell asleep with my head on your chest the night before, and I can hear your feet in the kitchen and I know that I'm going to get up and you're going to smile at me and kiss my forehead or maybe my lips and tell me good morning, and I'm going to take your coffee mug from your hand and take a sip, and it's going to smell even better because it smells like you and tastes like your lips. That's my favorite smell. Well...that and the way your clothes smell. That's why I kept that sweater for so long. It smelled like you. I don't...exactly know what you smell like, but God, I love it. It's like, laundry detergent and sunshine and the smell of your skin all mixed together, which I don't know how to describe other than saying it's incredibly Lauren. Both of those smells make me really happy."
She took her bottom lip between her teeth and leaned back in the chair, no longer trying to fight her smile. I loved the shape of her lips no matter if they were pressed to mine or if she was smiling or doing absolutely nothing, but right now she was talking straight from her heart, and the shape they took then was one I especially adored.
"I think I remember telling you that I liked to listen to all kinds of music so that I could feel everything, but I don't really do that anymore," she laughed. "I listen based on how I'm feeling, but most of the time I find myself listening to songs that remind me of you. They make me really happy. They don't seem to get old. I can hear the things you've said to me in all the lyrics and it's one of my favorite sounds. Music in general makes me happy, but it seems louder when I'm with you. When we're laying in bed sharing headphones and The 1975 comes on and you hum the lyrics, that's when I enjoy music the most. I just...I don't know how to explain what makes me happy other than 'you.'"
"You make me happy, Lauren," she said. "I love the way our bodies fit perfectly together, and I love the way your arms wrap around me gently but firmly enough to let me know you're there. I love the sound of your voice and the way you laugh at my stupid jokes even though we both know they aren't funny. I love the taste of your lips and the taste of your skin and I just...you make me so happy. I don't know why, but something about the way you do things, it reminds me that no matter what we do or say, you'll always keep me smiling even if it's not on the outside. You've planted a permanent smile in the pit of my heart and I don't think it'll ever fade."
All I could do was look at her. My breathing was shallow and I was at least ninety percent sure my heart had stopped. I wanted her to open up to me, but I didn't expect that. I did still make her happy. I realized something in the moments of silence after her confession- all those months, more than a year that we weren't together as one, I thought I was sad because she was no longer mine. I was convinced that she wasn't coming back and that my happiness had been stolen from me, which was partly true, but it wasn't because she was no longer my girlfriend; it was because she wasn't there to make everything seem brighter. Anytime she was around the world seemed like a better place. Music was louder, the breeze was warmer, laughter was deeper, and the sun was brighter. When she was gone I didn't have that. I had nothing to make the things that I loved seem so wonderful, but she was back, and so was my vision. We were each other's happiness, and I knew in that moment that there was no way for us to stay away from each other.
"Do you want to get out of here?" I asked.
"Please," she smiled.
...
I unlocked the door to my apartment and was pleased to find that Normani still wasn't back. It was dark and empty and quiet, just the way I wanted it. I flipped on the light but dimmed it halfway, leaving just enough brightness to see Camila's face but not too much. I threw my bag on the counter and she walked to the couch to take a seat. I sat next to her, a few feet away, and stared blankly at the wall in front of me.
"Thank you for dinner," she said finally. "I had a really nice time."
"You're welcome," I smiled.
She nodded and I worried for a second that our romantic moment at the restaurant was short lived. The air was still and painfully silent, but before I could address it her lips crashed into mine. She placed her hand on the back of my neck and brought our mouths closer together while my hand found the bottom of her thigh, lifting her leg up and draping it over my lap. She backed away from me suddenly, but instead of stopping she pushed me onto the cushions by my shoulders, climbing on top of me and straddling my lap. My phone began buzzing rapidly in my purse on the counter and she pulled back, but I ignored it. I was far too intoxicated by her already to be bothered.
Our lips connected again and her hand wandered down my side and to the hem of my dress. She lifted it up slightly and brushed her fingertips over my hipbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps everywhere she touched. Her lips grazed my collarbone and then my neck, kissing gently and sucking my pulse point and the spot behind my ear while my nails dug into her hips. The things she made me feel...
My phone rang again and she tried to pull back but I placed a hand behind her neck, pulling her back to me and slipping my tongue inside her mouth. She let out a quiet moan and I felt my entire body respond to the sound, my head spinning and my skin itching for contact. The vibrating stopped momentarily but started again and she finally pulled away, rolling her eyes and sitting up on my lap.
"Maybe you should get that," she suggested, annoyance evident in her tone.
"It's probably not important," I dismissed, grabbing her wrist and attempting to pull her back onto me.
"Lauren, they've called three times," she pointed out. "It's probably important."
I groaned and she moved off of my lap, allowing me to stand up and run to my purse just before my phone stopped ringing. I snatched it out of my bag and unlocked it, bringing to my ear and sighing heavily.
"Hello?" I demanded.
"Hey, Lo," Luis slurred, clearly wasted.
I glanced nervously to Camila and she smiled, promising me that it was okay. If only she knew who was on the other end...
"I can't really talk right now," I told him.
"But, Lo, I need you," he whined.
"You're obviously drunk."
"That's why I need you," he laughed. "I'm at a party and I can't drive home. Will you come get me?"
"I'm...I'm not in Miami right now," I reminded him. "You know that."
"Oh," he sighed. "Where are you?"
Camila got off the couch and walked to me slowly, taking her hair out of its pins and letting it fall over her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around me from behind and used one finger to trace a line from my collarbone up my neck, my skin burning from the contact.
"Hurry up," she demanded.
"I'm in LA right now," I told Luis. "I've been here for over a year, remember? I live here now."
I felt Camila's hand snake under my dress and move around to my front, her fingertips just barely under my waistband. She slipped her hand inside and my breath hitched in my throat, causing me to nearly drop my phone. I caught it halfway to the floor but winced as I accidentally made contact with the screen, bracing myself for impact just as Luis's voice came through the speakers mid-sentence.
"-think you should come back to Miami," he said. "I miss you, baby. Come home."
Camila removed her hand and took a step back. I could see the hurt in her eyes and it broke me. It was a look I never wanted to see again, and there it was. I glanced at my phone in my hand and then back to her as a sudden anger flooded through me. I'd had enough interruptions. I'd had enough failed attempts at trying to get her back because I couldn't let other people go, and I was done. I wasn't about to let her walk out of my life again. I clicked my phone off and threw it on the counter just as she turned and headed for the door, but I was one step ahead. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards me. She yanked out of my grasp but didn't make another move for the door.
"Don't touch me," she snapped.
"Camz, listen to me," I begged.
"No!" she shouted. "And don't fucking call me Camz! I'm tired of hearing you say that when it doesn't mean shit to you."
"It's not what you think it is," I explained frantically. "He's drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying."
"Bullshit!" she yelled. "I should have known better when I heard you tell him you loved him the other day. I knew it. I knew I shouldn't have tried."
She reached for the handle and pulled the door open but I lunged forward, slamming it securely back into place and pressing against it so that she couldn't try to leave again.
"Tried what?" I demanded.
She clenched her jaw and avoided my gaze. I was glad that she wasn't looking at me in a way- I had never seen her look so angry in all her life.
"Tried what, Camila?" I pressed.
"I don't fucking know," she cursed. "To...to show you I still care. To show you that I'm not over you."
"You...you're not over me?" I stammered, trying to fight the smile that was tugging at my lips.
"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "You...you were my first love. You were my first kiss, my first time, my first heart break. I haven't gotten over you, Lauren. How could I? I haven't stopped thinking about you once throughout this past year. Not one time."
I relaxed a little and slumped against the door, feeling relieved to finally hear her say it but also confused. It was so much to take in all at once.
"What about when all you wanted to do was sleep with me?" I wondered. "Why didn't you just tell me then? Why'd you go through all that?"
"I don't know," she sighed. "I wanted a way to be close to you and I didn't know how else to approach you. I thought that if I couldn't tell you how I felt, I could at least show you, but clearly you didn't catch on, and now I see why."
"Oh yeah?" I chuckled, starting to become angry with her insinuations about Luis and I. "And what about Austin? What about all those months that you chased after him and got your heart broken when you found out he didn't really like you? How come you were so thirsty for all the attention he gave you if you had feelings for me?"
"At least he fucking gave me attention, Lauren!" she barked. "You've barely acknowledged me since our break up because you've been fucking Luis every chance you get!"
I bit down on my bottom lip and turned away from her, hanging my head.
"I never had sex with Luis," I mumbled.
"What?"
"I never fucked Luis!" I shouted. "I never did anything with him, Camila! He tried but I wouldn't let him."
She took a deep breath and shook her head, leaning back against the wall behind her and searching my face for any sign that I was lying. I didn't have anything to give her. It was nothing but the truth, and she looked absolutely shocked and relieved at the same time.
"I couldn't do it," I nearly whispered. "I couldn't let anyone look at me or touch me the way you do. It fucking broke me inside every time he told me he loved me because I knew I had to say it back, because I did love him, but not like I loved you. He doesn't even compare to you, Camz. Every time I told him I loved him I hated myself because I didn't love him wholly. You still have my heart. Every piece of it. It's always been that way. Since day one. No one...I can't...nothing is going to change that. I love you, Camz. I love you with all my heart."
She wiped away a tear as it streamed down her face and I stepped closer to her, holding onto both of her hands with no desire to ever let go.
"For how long?" she choked out. "How long have you felt like this?"
"I never stopped," I told her. "I've been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you in that line, fifteen and awkward and dressed in those white jeans and blue shirt that I absolutely love you in. I loved you when that was all I knew about you."
A small chuckle escaped her lips and I found myself smiling too, letting go of one of her hands to brush a stray hair behind her ear and dry her tears with the pad of my thumb. I didn't want her to cry, but when she did, I wanted to be the one to hold her. Those were my tears to dry, and that was the way it would always be. Simple as that.
"I want you to listen to me very carefully, because I'm only going to tell you this once. After this I'll do everything in my power to show you, but this is the only time you'll hear the words leave my mouth, so listen," I instructed. "Your hands are mine to hold. I'm your shoulder to cry on when you need me but I'll always be there to make you laugh afterwards. Your body is mine to lay next to at night while we talk about whatever it is we feel like talking about, and your lips are mine to kiss. My heart belongs to you and yours belongs to mine, and I don't care what happens or what hell we go through...I will never...ever...let you go again, okay? You're mine, Camz. You might as well get used to it, because I don't plan on changing that."
She stared into my eyes for the longest time, just thinking and watching me until the corners of her mouths turned up into that crooked smile that made my heart pound harder than usual. There was that smile again, the one that belonged to my words. The one that belonged to me. She pressed her lips to mine and I could taste her again- fifteen years old on the balcony dressed in sweats, her hair a mess and her eyes puffy from crying about our performance, but still perfect to me. I could taste her smile and all the words that we still had to tell each other in the future, and she was mine again.
"I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too, Camz," I smiled. "Always."