All An Act (Camren)

Chapter Nineteen

Lauren's POV

I need to get laid. Bad. Like, it's really fucking bad. But my girlfriend's not ready. Well, she's not ready when I'm on top. She spazzes out every time. But if she's the one topping me, she seems okay; like maybe we'll actually get some-fucking-where...that is, until we get interrupted.

And we always get interrupted. Every time. It never fails.

The last time, it was because Camila's friend, Josephina, came over. We haven't had a moment alone since. I'm fucking dying here! I even touched myself last night. Yeah, me. I touched myself last night. Only desperate lonely losers do that. No offense to all the desperate lonely losers out there.

But the worst thing about taking part in a desperate lonely loser act? It was no guilty pleasure. When I say that, I mean it did absolutely nothing for me. Like nothing. I got absolutely no kind of relief because I want Camila to touch me! I want my girlfriend to fuck me!

But it seems like that's never gonna happen because I can never get a fucking moment alone with her! If it's not one of the brats tagging along, she's with Redhead. If Redhead's nowhere around, Dinah needs her help with homework. If Dinah's all caught up on babysitting, we're hanging out with everybody at once. If everybody's busy, Josephina comes along. If Josephina's not around, Natasha fucking Negovanlis is texting my girlfriend. If all of the above are not happening, fucking Mr Carter sends my girlfriend on a scavenger hunt.

It's driving me insane! Completely insane!

My girlfriend, however, doesn't seem to mind at all. I get the feeling she doesn't want to be alone with me. Probably because she doesn't want to be pressured into having sex. I kinda get it. I've been a lot more handsy lately. More forceful, suggestive, and direct about getting into her pants.

I'm not blind. I see that it makes her nervous. I'm a girl too. I know all about that kind of pressure. That she probably feels it'd be slutty of her to give it up so soon. But we've been together for four months! I kinda think that's long enough to give up the goods. I mean, yeah, I was making Matt wait for a year, but well, that was different.

How?

Shut up, Camila.

Fine, I'll be the slut. I won't touch her, but she needs to scratch my itch.

Now.

I grab her hand and start pulling her up to her room, but then cockblocking Mama Cabello decides she needs my girlfriend to help make tacos.

Why! Why did I think today would be any different? Why did I actually think that since the brats just ran upstairs with Becky, that I could take my girlfriend to her room, lock the door, and pull her on top of me? Why did I actually think I'd actually get this freakin' itch of mine scratched; or caressed, at least?

Why?!

I glare at Mama Cabello for taking my girlfriend away; then interfering ass Papa Cabello decides he wants me to watch fucking sports.

I don't do sports.

So, I glare at him too. "I'm not watching-" I pause there after glancing at the TV screen. I thought I just saw... "Is that blood?" I ask, running over to sit next to him.

It's a good distraction. I can admit it. These men violently fighting over a small flat black ball are a good distraction. Like, I just saw a guy lose a tooth. I cheered for about twenty minutes, completely ignoring Papa Cabello's ranting.

He's just mad that his team is losing, and I told him so. Hey, he yelled at me first! He told me I can't cheer for both teams.

But I'm not. I'm not cheering for both teams. I'm cheering for the guy wearing the black uniform with a number six on his back. He's brutal. Ruthless.