What If I Loved Her Too? (Camila/Lauren/You)

Chapter 3: It Was Only A Kiss. How Did It End Up Like This?

“I would want much more than that, but for now, I can conform with at least being your friend.” My eyes widened at her and I immediately pulled her into me once again but this time she put her arms around my waist and I no longer had to wonder what a hug from Lauren felt like. 

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Your POV

I stayed with Lauren in the music room for the remainder of Lunch. She ate her lunch and I worked on the song that I had promised the band. We both agreed that we wouldn’t talk anymore until I had told Camila about what had happened. It was now one minute before the bell that releases us home would ring. I had agreed to meet with Camila on the football field bleachers since she had cheerleading practice right after school. When the bell rang I was on my way.

I sat on the top of the bleachers where I managed to catch a glimpse of Camila with the cheerleaders; she waved when she saw me and I smiled. I couldn’t help but admire how great she looked in her white crop top, skinny jeans, white converse and that white sparkly bow of hers. Whoever said you don’t wear white after Labor Day was so fucking wrong because they’d obviously never seen Camila Cabello wear white. When she finished talking to the cheerleaders she quickly made her way up to the top of the bleachers.

“I was starting to think that you were a figment of my imagination,” Camila said.

“Why’s that?” I asked. 

“It feels like ages since I last saw you.” She began to approach me as if she was about to kiss me, which she was so I turned so that her lips landed on my cheek. “Whoa? Are you—what was that?” She looked at me confused.

“We need to talk,” I said as calmly as possible.

“You’re scaring me, (Y/N),” she whispered.

“Before I begin to say what I need to say, I need you to know something first,” I looked for approval and she nodded. “I love you, Camila. Before you I thought I knew what love was, but you taught me how to love. I learned what real love was when I met you. Camila, I’ve never loved anyone the way that I love you. So, please just remember that. I’m going to need for you to remember that.”

“Okay? I love you too, but where are you going with this?” And I could see the genuine concern in her face.

“I’m so so so sorry. I really am,” I took a deep breath and looked at her. I could tell she was nervous because her eyes kept fluttering back and forth. “I kissed a girl at the bar on Sunday.”

20 minutes later, we were both now sitting down on the bleachers, on the same position. Neither of us had attempted to move. The only thing that was different was that Camila was crying. I wanted to move towards her but my fear and angst had me paralyzed.

“Camila, I’m so—“

“Stop,” Camila interrupted me. “An apology won’t mend what you did.” I tried to reach for her hand but she moved away further down the bleacher. “Don’t touch me. I can’t bare the thought that you touched somebody that wasn’t me.” She wiped her eyes, stood up, and began to walk down the bleachers. “I hope every bit of that kiss was worth it.” She said before taking the last step off of the bleachers. I hurriedly made my way down to her but she met me halfway. She placed on arm around my neck and placed a rough kiss on my lips. “That way next time you kiss her you’ll know what you’re missing out on,” she said when she ended the kiss. Then I felt her hand strike against my cheek. She took one last look at me and made her way to the middle of the field with the rest of the cheerleaders whom had apparently watched the demise of our relationship.