Chapter Forty-One

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"Waffles," Louis said, his voice mixing with the sound of silverware banging on plates and the muddled voices of conversation. "No, pancakes. Maybe waffles and pancakes. What are you getting?"

Camila had been staring at the plastic-covered menu for at least five minutes and the only thing she'd registered was the fact that her left hand was now sticky. She dropped the menu on the table. "Waffles," she said, though she wasn't hungry. She'd left her appetite at Normani's party, somewhere between the balcony and the moments that followed.

"Then I'll have pancakes," Louis said decisively, putting down the menu and picking up a glass of orange juice. He regarded Camila over the rim of the glass as he drank. When he was finished, he sat back. "So."

Camila wasn't sure why she'd called Louis and asked him to breakfast, or why she'd given him strict instructions not to bring Harry. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. But now she wasn't sure she felt like talking. She wasn't sure there was anything worth talking about. So she had a small, microscopic crush on a famous actress that was sort of a friend. So what?

"You know, your brother probably thinks I'm cheating on him at the moment," Louis said by way of a hint. 

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just tell me what's up. Did you even sleep last night?"

Camila bit her lip, her gaze on the table. "Not really."

"Are you pregnant?"

Camila glanced up sharply at the suggestion. "No," she said. "God, no."

"In trouble with the law?"

"It's nothing like that," Camila said, sighing. "It's just ... have you ever had feelings for someone and been unable to explain why you had feelings for them?"

Louis laughed. "Honey, feelings don't come with a manual. They just come. And often they go. Is this about that Anthony guy?"

"I wish."

"A different guy?"

Camila shook her head.

"A ... girl?"

Camila hesitated, but nodded. And then the waitress was at their side, asking for their order.

"Pancakes," Louis said automatically.

"Waffles," Camila said, and watched as the waitress took the menus and walked away.

Louis was silent for a few seconds. "Interesting."

"Interesting," Camila echoed, and reached for the cup of coffee she'd forgotten was there. "That's all you have to say?"

"For the moment," Louis said. "Where are you on this matter? Are you at the 'does this mean I'm gay stage?' Or somewhere before or after that?"

Camila frowned at the question. "I hadn't gotten there yet." 

"So, this is a brand new development."

"It's about twelve hours old."

"Interesting."

"Stop saying 'interesting.' You're supposed to have all the answers."

 "Then ask me something."

Camila sipped her coffee, trying to get her thoughts in order. Her mind was a mess. She needed sleep. "You should have all the questions, too."

Louis smiled gently. "Okay, here's a question. Did you stay up all night because you're having feelings for a girl? Or is it because you're having feelings for this particular girl? Or is it because you're having feelings for someone at all?"

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