Chapter 11

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Camila

The following week goes by in a blur, and before I know it, the weekend has arrived once again, but this time, I'm pre-prepared for Hailee and her grilling.

The slamming of the front door has me scurrying from the bathroom so fast that I slip, but I dart a hand out just in time to keep me from hitting the floor. Once I'm back to standing upright, it takes all I've got to keep from laughing.

Quickly tightening my robe around my waist, I ease my way into the living room and lower onto the couch, while Hailee hastily shoves shit into the fridge.

"Hey!" Hailee shouts, hearing me enter. "I ran into the little store on campus, paid a million dollars, but got stuff for breakfast, figured we'd camp out on the couch all day tomorrow, brunch it up."

She doesn't wait for a response as she dashes past me without a glance, rushing into her bedroom. Her closet door hits the frame, and the click of hangers has my knee bouncing. Not a minute later, she's moving toward the bathroom in her bra and underwear, a coral dress half over her head, muffling her words behind the stretchy material as she tries to tug it on.

I knew she was coming home before she headed out for the night; she had told me so after tonight's game. I had decided not to hang around to congratulate the guys this time, opting for a text in our group thread instead, and came home with the dorm crew again while she found a few friends from her classes to wait with.

Hailee slips out of her room a few seconds later, and falls onto the couch beside me, shoving her feet into a pair of gold wedges. "So, I'm meeting Zayn tonight for drinks at Screwed Over Rocks, it should be fun..." She throws me a hint but doesn't look up.

"I'm sure it will be. You always seem to have a good time with him."

"Yeah." She pulls on the left wedge. "I guess the team's having a little party at the house, but he's not feeling it so..."

I bite back a grin. "Yeah, Carl texted me a few minutes ago letting me know."

"Oh." Hailee pushes to her feet, her annoyance clear as she stomps toward the door.

I almost get nervous, but my friend doesn't fail me, she never has. Never will.

She pauses the moment her hand wraps around the knob, her shoulders falling. "You could come, Mila. Shawn won't be there."

Finally, Hailee looks over at me, her downcast eyes meeting mine. It only takes half a second, and then she's whipping around with a frown. "What the fuck?"

I bust up laughing and literally hop up on the cushions as I tear my robe wide open.

Her hands shoot up.

"Hold up, are you... what are you doing?" She takes in my made-up face, commercial worthy curls, and slinky, mid-thigh plum dress, the one she picked out for me the last time we went shopping.

"What am I doing?" I jump over the side of the couch, slipping my feet into the heels I put at the edge of it, and smile. "I'm going to get drunk with my best friend."

"Yeah?" she whispers, her eyes growing glossy.

I could punch myself for it, but instead, I bite back my own emotions and nod. "Yeah."

Hailee squeals, tackles me, and then we're both falling back onto the couch.

Once we're standing again, she sighs, and then smacks me with her wristlet.

"Never again, Camila Cabello. I will fuck you up if you even try." She glares, but her eyes are full of unshed tears, and her voice drops ten octaves. "You were scaring me."

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