Mixtape - Side A || Shawmila [Completed]

track 2

Where Were You In The Morning - Shawn Mendes

«The next song might not fit into a love mixtape, but when you'll hear it I'm sure you'll understand why it makes me think of you. And now that I think about it, I never got back at you for that night! Mmh, maybe I'll let it slide only for this once».

Camila blushed. She knew exactly what the voice on the cassette was referring to, and now she would have to explain it to her daughter as well, although she imagined she already had a general idea since she had already listened to that mix. She set aside the embarrassment and continued with the story...

...It hadn't often happened to her to spend the night with a guy, so she didn't have many points of comparison, yet she was sure she had spent the best night of her life. Everything had been perfect, from the way he touched her to the words he whispered in her ear. Perhaps because he was perfect.

It had been so easy to let herself be convinced to go to his place, to let him undress her and set aside every prejudice that had held her back from talking to him until that moment. And for a while, it had been nice to forget about that particular aspect, especially when his deep voice had lulled her into a pleasant sleep, wrapped in his arms.

But then Camila woke up, and the weight of awareness crashed down on her like the sword of Damocles. He was still asleep, peacefully lying on the bed, his muscular back illuminated by the pale morning rays. She would have liked to stay there and admire him for a while longer, but the voices of her friends filled her head. She remembered all the unpleasant comments they had made about him, to which Camila had enthusiastically contributed. Before the previous night, she had truly believed that he was no good, but now she wasn't so sure anymore. She didn't know how she would be able to convince her friends, who had always been very uncompromising about it.

So she slipped out of bed. Silently and with slow movements, she got dressed, hating herself for what she had to do. The previous night had been a dream come true. He had made her feel so good, so comfortable. They had talked for hours, both before and after she heard herself moan his name, revealing her interest. And now she was leaving like a coward, as if she were ashamed of what had happened between them.

When she stepped out of his house, she knew he had no way to contact her. She hadn't given him her phone number or any other contact information. They lived in two different parts of town, and the only chance of seeing each other again would be in the school corridors, which wouldn't start for another week.

It was a long week for Camila. Lying to her family and friends drained her of energy, and the constant thought of the guy she had run away from drained what little remained. Honestly, she didn't have to come up with many excuses. Her parents hadn't asked questions about the supposed pajama party she had attended, and her friends immediately believed her when she told them she had come home early due to a blinding headache.

But school was approaching, and the fear of seeing him again grew stronger. She hoped she could ignore him as she had done all the previous years. Passing him in the hallways with her gaze fixed ahead, without anyone suspecting a thing.

Camila believed in karma, so she wasn't overly surprised when, during the first history class, he entered through the door and sat behind her. Until that year, their schedules had never aligned, and perhaps it was a record that had been broken at that very moment.

She wanted to sink into the ground. She hoped the floor would split open and swallow her forever into the damp and dark depths of the earth. It would have been an ending that was still less painful and embarrassing than sitting there in class, feeling his gaze fixed on her back.

Camila felt caught between a rock and a hard place. On one side was him, who had done nothing but be kind and nice to her, and on the other side were her friends and their prejudices. Rationally, Camila knew she shouldn't give so much weight to others' judgment, but in high school, it's difficult to survive without considering that aspect as well.

The history class passed more slowly than expected. The professor's words seemed to be spoken in slow motion, and ignoring his presence was practically impossible. But in the end, the bell rang, and the class emptied quickly, but she wasn't fast enough to get swept away by the swarm of students pouring into the hallway.

She could smell his scent, now imprinted in her memory since the night they spent together, enveloping her like the tentacles of a giant octopus. Escaping him was impossible. So she looked up and timidly smiled at him, aware of her silly face.

His calm voice didn't sound angry, but behind his words, one could clearly sense the accusation he was making. "I thought we would continue talking over breakfast or, I don't know, on the phone."

"Shawn..."

"I know you had fun, Camila, so don't you think I deserve to have your number?" His smile was enchanting, so genuine and white, and Camila couldn't tell him no. If he continued to use that charm on her, he could surely mold her like Play-Doh between his fingers, but perhaps she wasn't entirely opposed to that idea.

She tore a piece of paper from her notebook and wrote down the numbers he so eagerly desired with a pen. She made sure to draw a little heart at the end.