Fatal Attraction (Camren)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Camila's POV

Thursday I woke up with a new resolution – to talk to Lauren. Maybe she'd forgiven me. Maybe we could have that conversation about The 1975. I could use a new friend, not that I didn't love my other friends, but it couldn't hurt to change up my routine and widen my social circle. Lauren seemed like the answer to all my concerns.

I got up earlier than usual, tiptoeing around the room so I wouldn't wake Lucy up. I threw on my light blue high waisted shorts and my black The 1975 shirt, hoping it wouldn't be too obvious of a move to try to get her attention. I grabbed my backpack and practically ran to my class, The Sound blasting through my beats. I got to class at 7:45, before almost everyone else, waiting anxiously for Lauren to come through the door.

At 7:55 I heard the sound of her voice at the back door and watched her walk down the steps with an attractive looking guy. "Okay Brad," she pushed on his shoulder good-humoredly. "If you get her number with that pick up line, tell me."

"You're gonna lose this bet, Jauregui," he quipped.

"And you're gonna get an A in this class, Simpson," she snided sarcastically. "There seems to be a lot of wishful thinking coming from your-" she stopped talking and walking when our eyes connected. I smiled and gave her my best attempt at a not awkward wave. She blushed slightly and turned her face forward, pretending like she didn't see me. She changed from her usual seat, pulling Brad to a set of chairs closer to the front of the class room.

My heart sunk. She clearly hadn't forgiven me. I sighed and ran my hand through my hair, I couldn't blame her. The whole class I stared at the back of her head distractedly, willing her to turn around so we could lock eyes again. She didn't though.

She just sat there beautifully writing her notes in her notebook, her delicate fingers occasionally turning the pages of her textbook. Every once in a while I could see the side of her profile as she leaned against her desk, intent on absorbing the information being presented. I could see one green eye sparking, uncovered by the dark brown waves of hair that fell down her back. I wondered how her hair would look against her bare back, if it would create a similar contrast against her light skin as it did against her face.

By the time class was over, I had given up on talking to Lauren. I leaned down and packed my bag, only to feel like someone was looking at me. When I looked up I saw Lauren standing to my side, her own bag hanging over one of her shoulders. Brad waited patiently behind her. I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the feeling of her closeness.

"Nice shirt," she commented. "I'd talk to ask you about it, but I'm pretty sure I'd get blown off."

Before I could say anything, she turned on her heels, brushing past a slightly confused Brad who followed her shortly after. The look of slight anger and annoyance which had flashed across her face when she talked was ingrained in my mind. I tried to ignore the immense amount of guilt I felt in my gut and sinking in my heart.

Whatever chance I had, our moment, had passed. I had ruined it.

Another day, another moment. I could feel the excitement slipping away, returning to my routine. I would have to be happy with that. Maybe boredom was better than disappointment and hurt anyways, right?

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The whistle blew loudly and the clock started on the score board. I ran up the pitch, commanding the position of central midfielder. I had to be quick, be on my A-game, this Friday night game against Norte Dame was an important to win.