When I walk into Camila's class on Monday, I have an Arsenal of compliments and pick-up lines and little actions memorised in my head, but it seems she beat me to the whole surprise gift thing. Sitting on my desk is, humorously, a Spanish textbook wrapped in a bright red ribbon.
I laugh softly as I sink into my seat, grateful that Cara isn't here today or else she'd have so many questions, and wonder where Camila is exactly, because she's not behind her desk.
In a moment, I hear a bag behind the door to the left of me which I hadn't noticed before. It looks like it's probably a cupboard, so I brush it off as something falling until I hear a small, "Ouch."
"Ca- Ms. Cabello?" I question, knocking on the door.
"Oh, hi Y/n, can you come help me a minute?" Her muffled voice comes out on the other side. I open the door as the bell rings, ignoring the weird looks from the other students as I slip into the lit cupboard where Camila stands, a box on her foot as she holds another which precariously hangs off of a shelf above her head.
She chuckles when I stand behind her and she tries to adjust her grip on the box to better hold it.
"Here, let me grab that." I offer, leaning up to support the box's weight. Thank god I closed the door behind me because now her back is pressed against my front and my outstretched arms are basically trapping her there.
"Thank you." She mutters, tipping her head back to look up at me. I smile down at her and wink, because why not?
"Anytime." I reply, and then clear my throat and look back up at the remarkably heavy box, "Do you want this down or pushing back up?" I question, and it takes her a moment to answer, but I know she heard me.
"Down." She whispers as though she's in her own world, and I do as she asks, trying not to blush too much.
Once I manage to wangle the box into my arms, she grins and opens the door for me, following me out of the cupboard.
Oh I am so glad Cara isn't here.
"Sorry about that, class!" She calls out, bringing everyone's volume down, before turning to me and adding, "You can put that on my desk."
I nod and put the box down, relieved that I don't have to carry it anymore. I don't have a clue what's in there, but it's heavy as fuck.
She goes on to explain something about what we're going to be learning today, what page to turn to and what not, but I'm too enchanted by the way her lips move to recognise the words coming out of them.
"What's this?" I question when she sits back down, pointing at the textbook on my desk.
"A gift." She shrugs, with a discreet wink, "You implied that you don't have a textbook, and what sort of a teacher would I be if I didn't allow my students access to the resources they need to pass."
"How heartfelt." I joke, turning to the page number she'd written on the board and finding it relatively easy... or maybe the brief glances we keep sharing with each other motivate me enough to keep guessing the answers.