Chapter 17 (Mijo)

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Camilo's POV

I heard the sound of light knocking on my bedroom door. I'd already started to wake from my deep sleep, but the noise was enough to make me bolt out of my bed. I fell off with my sheets intertwined with my legs and torso and landed on the floorboards on top of my stage, banging my knee in the process. The sheets provided no protection and I could feel a sharp throbbing develop in my knee.

"Camilo?" I heard my mother call and she opened the door while I whined from the pain.

Her heels clicked as she walked and I heard the sound of her climbing the stairs that led to my bed.

"Why are you on the floor?" She asked when she saw me. I rubbed my eyes and slowly stood up and sat on my bed.

The events of my dream were still fresh in my mind. I could still see Her face behind my eyelids every time I blinked. A lonely sensation had settled in my bones as I no longer felt the warmth of her skin or the gentle brush of her lips.

My cheeks burned and it was enough for my mother to step closer and press the back of her hand to my forehead.

"Are you not feeling well?" She asked. "Is that why you woke up so late and were on the floor?" I was the type of child to lay on cold floors whenever I had a fever. I could have easily lied and said that it was the case, but something in me wanted to tell my mother everything.

She sat next to me on my bed, her dress spilling out next to her and her ruffles brushing my skin.

I didn't know what to say or how to start off. Still, my mom looked at me with her sunny green eyes, and even though my mother was a little eccentric, I knew that I could tell her.

"I had a dream," I said finally. My mother frowned as she tried to figure out where I was going to take the conversation. We'd never talked about relationships because there was never a need. It was always just my family and I and that was all I focussed on. Until She came.

"Was it a nightmare?" She asked. I shook my head.

"At first I felt like it was, but then it wasn't." I took a breath before continuing to say, "there was a girl."

My mother had the exact reaction that I expected her to: she stiffened and a slow smile spread on her lips. She said nothing at first, but she took my hand and gave it a little comforting squeeze. When I didn't continue to speak, she said, "A girl... what kind of dream was it?"

And I knew what she meant. My cheeks flushed even redder and I shook my head, giving a helpless little sigh.

"No, not that kind. It was a quiet dream. I felt warm."

"Do you know who was in it?" She asked. I was about to say exactly who it was that I imagined in my sleep. Her face was clear in my mind. I could almost feel her gentle fingers caress my face. It was weird to imagine her in that light. I didn't hate it though.

"I've seen her around town," I replied. My answer wasn't exactly a lie, but I knew that my mother would eventually tell Dolores exactly what I told her. Eventually, our entire town would know about my dream, including Her.

"And I've had the dream before... Almost every night."

"Do you like her?"

"Mamá!" I gasped and stood up. She gave a little laugh and I saw a small rainbow that hovered over her head. "What are you so happy about?" I asked, fighting the embarrassment that I was practically drowning in. My mother held my hands and I helped her stand. She threw her arms around my frame and held me close.

"I'm just happy that you're being a teenager," She said finally. My arms slowly found their way around her. "I know your Abuela and the rest of us have been hard on you," She said.

"Mamá, it's fine, I get it-"

"I'm sorry, Camilo. We made you grow up so soon. Sometimes I miss the little boy you used to be. We made you carry a burden you shouldn't have to carry." She held me at arm's length and smoothed my hair, letting her fingers briefly brush through my curls. A small raincloud was developing over her head, but the rainbow remained. Her mixed feelings mirrored mine. "You should talk to her. Get to know her. Maybe the family can meet her if you'd like," she suggested.

"You're drizzling, Mamá," I said softly. She nodded with a small smile. Tears pricked her eyes and I wiped them away before they could ruin her makeup.

"I love you, mijo," She said before pressing a hard kiss to my forehead, just as she did when I was younger. I returned the sentiment and together we made our way to the breakfast table. 

+++

The rest of my family left the table to get ready to do their chores while Mirabel cleared the table. I lifted my plate and stepped inside the kitchen to place it on the small stack of plates that needed to be washed.

I watched as She slipped a few glasses into their respective cabinets just as I did the day we formally met. She hadn't changed since then and lifted a large stack of plates that we both knew was too heavy for her.


"You never learn, do you?" I asked. I gently took the plates from her hands and effortlessly slipped them into their cupboard.

"Have a little faith, Milo," She said to me and rolled her eyes. I couldn't help but crack a little smile and watched as she crossed her arms over her apron and leaned against the counter.


"Milo?" I asked, and rested my hand on the surface of the counter next to her. The girl looked at me with wide eyes as if she had said a terrible curse word that would send her to the deepest depths of hell. And maybe she did.

"Tell me, what is a Milo?" I teased. I leaned down to meet her eyes but hers wandered all around the room, observing everything but me. I wanted to hold her chin and lift her head so her eyes met mine. I wanted to see the bright morning light catch in each crystal. I didn't do it, though.
"Shut up," she stammered, and I let out a little chuckle.


"What, is it some kind of animal or something? A species of chameleon, perhaps?"

I found way too much pleasure in seeing her face flush three shades redder. "You call me 'Orchid-head'," She said slowly. "Why can't I give you a nickname? One that no one else says."
"Milo sounds nothing like my name," I told her.
 "As if 'Orchid-head' sounds like mine."


"What would you rather me call you, then?" I asked. When she didn't reply, I said, "Señorita?" Her eyes widened. "Princesa?" I tried, fighting back a smile. "How about Hermosa?" I leaned in and whispered the last nickname. "Mi amor?"

The both of us burst out laughing and she punched my chest. "You've been reading too much Shakespeare," she told me. I watched her resume her chores until Mirabel entered the kitchen and kicked me out for being in the way. I went about my day and did my chores until night fell.

When I returned home from a long day, I made my way through the Casita until I found my cousin's bedroom. I knocked lightly and slipped in to see the girl bustling around."Isabela?" I asked. She looked up from the new plants she was growing. They looked similar to the ones she'd given me a few months ago. I took a deep breath before saying, "I need you to do me a favor."

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