Seven Minutes (Camren) (Camila + Lauren)

Seven Minutes

Seven Minutes.

Camila

We started talking over Kik. She had messaged me, and she thought I was a completely different person. I explained it to her that in fact I wasn't Brad, but I was Karla Camila Cabello Estrabao.

"Lauren Michelle Jauregui Morgado," she had told me over Kik.

I told her to call me Camila. We talked for weeks and months. I practically knew everything about her by the time one month had flew by. What can I say? Time flies by.

We both lived in Miami, so we both decided that we should meet each other. We met at this Café on sixth street, twenty minutes from my house by car.

I lived in an apartment by myself, and I had my own car. I graduated college, and so did Lauren. She was older than me by a year, though. I was twenty-six and she was twenty-seven.

I remember being a nervous wreck. I remember the butterflies in my stomach as I waited in the café, staring down at the wooden table with a warm coffee mug between my hands. I remember the weather that day, too. It was a rainy day, not thunderstorm rainy, but drizzling. The sky was gray, covered with clouds, yet I found it beautiful for some reason. And I also remember when she walked in, and what she wore and how fucking beautiful she looked.

She wore all black. A bomber jacket, jeans that fit her perfectly, and black shoes. I didn't know what colored shirt she was wearing, but her hair was slightly wet from the rain. When she sat down, the first thing I noticed was her eyes.

God, her green eyes. I would go into description about them, but I have too much to say.

And then, she smiled brightly, her nose scrunching up,

"Hi," her raspy voice said. "I'm Lauren."

"H-Hey," I stammered. "I'm Camila."

And as we locked eyes as I sipped on my coffee, I think we both knew we would be in each other's life for a long time.

-

Six Minutes.

Camila

We FaceTimed each other practically every night. We met up with each other every other day.  We would go to lunch, movies, dinner, breakfast, and maybe if we felt like it - we even went clubbing at night.

I guess you could say they were like dates. At least, that's how I thought of them. As dates. And I have no shame in it what's so ever.

On those dates, though, we said things we couldn't say over texting. And sometimes she would come over sad and we'd just watch Netflix and listen to sad music while she leaned her head on my shoulder.

Recently, she said she had gotten in contact with Brad. They met up for a date at this fancy restaurant. Lauren had gotten dressed up in an all black dress, her hair nicely straighten and black heels. She took my breath away, and when she smiled at me in that dress, my heart started beating rapidly.

She went to the restaurant. I sat in my room, staring at the ground. And then, fifteen minutes later, Lauren texted me - saying that Brad stood her up and if I could pick her up.

I decided to get dressed up too, in an all black dress, similar to Lauren's. I didn't have time to do my hair, since I know Lauren isn't a patient women when she's upset or angry.

When I got to the place, I saw her standing against the wall, arms crossed. I parked my car in the driveway, and as I walked over to her, she looked up, her eyes slightly widening.