track 1

121 18 24
                                    

Strawberries & Cigarettes - Troye Sivan

«Hey baby, it's me, the love of your life. I know how much you love music and vintage stuff, so I thought: why not recording a super sappy mix of music that reminds me of you? So, yeah, here it is, the soundtrack of our love story! You know, every time I listen to these songs I can only think of you... The first one reminds me of the night we met. Do you remember it? I hope you do, 'cause I couldn't forget about it even if I wanted to. I hope you'll enjoy this recording. I love you!»

Olivia snuggled up on the couch as her mother restarted the cassette on the stereo in the living room. The girl was filled with a strange excitement; after all, her mother rarely spoke about her adolescence, and it was almost impossible for Olivia to imagine her young and in love.

Immersed in the first notes, her mother closed her eyes for a few seconds before beginning her story. "We met at a party. It was the end of summer, and I was about to start my senior year of high school...

...The evening air had begun to cool, and with September approaching, the fragrance of flowers had become a distant memory. Camila had gotten ready with her friends, blasting music at full volume while they debated what to wear for the last party before school started. Her room was a chaotic mess: clothes strewn everywhere, the air heavy with a blend of sweet and floral perfumes, and the mirrors barely able to capture the slender figures of the five girls.

They all piled into the car, with the windows rolled down, singing at the top of their lungs to the pop songs playing on the radio. Camila felt so free and blissful, wishing that summer could last forever.

Harper's party was the most highly anticipated event of the year. It was common knowledge that her parents would be away at their lake house for a week, so she threw a party where the music and beer flowed endlessly. Everyone attended, even those who hadn't received an official invitation. Luckily, Camila wasn't among the uninvited. She may not have been the most popular girl in school, but her sweet smile and kind manners had earned her many friends.

That evening, the house was packed to the brim. The air was thick, making it difficult to breathe. Camila danced for a long time, taking only a few short breaks. Gradually, her friends started disappearing one by one. Finding herself surrounded by strangers, she decided to step outside for some fresh air. The backyard wasn't crowded, possibly due to the dim porch light and the relentless mosquitoes. Camila sat on the porch steps, took out her phone, and pretended to be occupied. Her Instagram feed wasn't particularly captivating, but she didn't have many other options besides gazing into the darkness of Harper's garden.

She consciously avoided making eye contact with a boy she had promised herself to stay away from. Shawn Mendes was someone she had never spoken to, and her knowledge of him was limited to the fact that he was one of the most popular boys in school. It was hard to go unnoticed when your father was a respected university professor and you possessed model-like features.

However, there were rumors about him that convinced Camila to firmly decide not to think about Shawn. She didn't want to get to know him, think about him, or talk to him. She and her friends had spent countless afternoons discussing how he had cheated on his girlfriend with a couple of college students after a three-year relationship. Camila despised cheaters and liars. It didn't matter that Shawn was the most handsome boy she had ever encountered, a god among mortals, a prince from fairy tales. He had proven himself disloyal, and that was why Camila wanted nothing to do with him.

Yet, in that secluded garden, concealed in the shadows of the night, it was difficult to ignore his solitary presence. Shawn sat on a bench across the porch, an empty glass in his hand, his gaze somber and fixed on the crowd inside the house. He appeared far from someone who was enjoying himself. Too bad for him.

But then, as if her constant thoughts had summoned him, Shawn stood up, approached her, and took a seat beside her. Camila didn't know how to react. Talking to him was the last thing she desired, but she didn't want to be rude. So she allowed him to smile at her. He asked if she was having a good time, why she was hiding at the back of the house, and why she kept glancing in his direction. Camila blushed at the question; she hadn't realized she had been so obvious. "It's just that you seem so troubled," she replied sincerely.

Shawn shrugged. "I'm trying to avoid someone, but fate seems to be against me. I could go home, but tonight I don't feel like being alone again."

Camila felt genuine sympathy for him. That boy spoke with such despair that it tugged at her heart. She asked why he was alone, and he explained that his parents were frequently out of town, leaving him with no desire to accompany them on their countless pointless conferences around the country.

For Camila, listening to him speak was like hearing the song of a mermaid. She was completely captivated by his voice, his words so seemingly genuine, his simplicity and authenticity. And she found herself entranced by his laughter, especially when his jokes caused her to chuckle.

They spent hours sitting on those steps, engrossed in conversation. They existed within a bubble of shy smiles, muted music, and pesky mosquitoes. When it was time to depart, Camila realized she didn't want to say goodbye. When he offered his hand as a chivalrous gesture to help her up, she decided to maintain their intertwined fingers for a little while longer. With a few nods of understanding and some whispered words, Camila allowed him to lead her away from the party. To evade prying eyes, they agreed to jump over the fence, running hand in hand along the dimly lit street until they reached his car.

Before they got in, he cupped her face in his hands and drew her closer. They didn't share a long kiss, yet he managed to taste the lingering flavor of the strawberry ice cream Camila had eaten hours earlier, the taste merging with his more intense one.

Inside the confines of his car, Camila's delicate fingers intertwined with Shawn's as he smiled at her, a mixture of shyness and hopefulness. He drove them to his house. That night, Camila lied to her parents, informing them that she would be staying at a friend's place, hoping her charade wouldn't be exposed.

Mixtape - Side A || Shawmila [Completed]Where stories live. Discover now