Chapter 33 (We Can't Pretend Anymore)

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Y/N's POV

It was getting much too hard to avoid him. I saw him everywhere: in town, around the Casita, at meals, in my dreams...

I couldn't escape Camilo, but the worst part was that I didn't want to.

He was one of my best friends. Mirabel, Camilo, and I were like a chaotic trio with a little kid and his animals by our side. The truth was that I missed him. Three weeks had passed and Mirabel had turned sixteen too.

Time flew and with every day that we avoided each other, flinched when our hands brushed and shrank at the sound of each other's name, it began to look like our friendship would never repair. It wasn't like the fight I had with Mirabel where we didn't speak for a few days and then bounced back after a quick apology.

This was different: I didn't dare approach him. He wouldn't even meet my eyes. Occasionally I'd sneak a glance at him during dinner. His eyes wouldn't even lift from his plate. I'd started to miss the mischievous glint in his eyes before pulling a prank, and the gap in his teeth when his smile lit up the room. I craved the feeling I got whenever I ran my fingers through the loose coils of his brown hair when he read to me, and constantly thought of the look in his eyes when I'd given him arepas and quoted Shakespeare to him. I missed the star speckles of freckles on his nose and cheeks.

I missed him.

And my dreams were painful. He would continue to avoid me sometimes, sending pangs in my gut, and other times it was like nothing had happened between us at all. Sometime's we'd hug and laugh in my dreams and it hurt the most when I woke up from a particularly nice dream filled with sunshine and Camilo, only to sit down at the breakfast table and see that nothing had changed. His caramel skin still dripped with guilt. His soul burned with self-resentment and disgust.

Despite the way he acted towards me, I couldn't let go of the friendship we had. I couldn't lose him or my relationship with him after so many months of chasing each other. It pained me when I heard him laugh at Luisa's jokes and play with Antonio. He acted like I was a stranger when I was around but remained the same to everyone else. It reminded me of the way my parents would act towards Julio and I after we upset them.

Still, I felt a gravitational pull towards him. It happened whenever I walked past his room or heard the smooth tone of his voice. I'd think about knocking on his door or joining in on his conversation, but I never did for the sole reason that I was a coward. 

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On the twenty-seventh day that Camilo and I had not so much as said "hello" to each other, I went to sleep. Mirabel slept on a cot in my room because she liked how quiet my room was during the night. Apparently, Isabela was a snorer.

I lay in bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling. I'd had a busy day at the shop and Mr. Muñoz had two breakdowns and it was a lot to deal with. My new gift presented new problems for me, but they seemed to be just as hard to solve as my shape-shifter dilemma.

Finally, my eyelids grew heavy and I faded off to sleep at around two in the morning.

There were mirrors everywhere. The room was white and covered in mirrors, each bearing a unique frame. Looking glasses hung from the ceiling on thin, nearly invisible wires. In the center of the room stood the boy who conquered all of my thoughts.

I'd been in the room before in my dreams. It was the bedroom in his head, where all of his thoughts were during the daytime and night. In each mirror was the reflection of a face that Camilo had seen before. I knew that he hated being in his room without him having to tell me.

It was hard enough for him to look in the mirrors in his room; he didn't need to see them here too.

Camilo stood in the center of the room with his head tilted to the side. He gazed into the mirror in front of him which reflected his face. It was the only one that did.

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