Curveballs (Camila/You)

Sneak Peek

You and me we made a vow

For better or for worse.

"Mila!" I sprinted across the busy airport, not caring about disgruntled people or workers getting in my way. I practically threw myself at Camila, but I really should have realized something was off. Her face held none of the warmth I was expecting to see, and she deftly sidestepped my hug.

Barely managing to stop myself from face-planting, I staggered to a stop, shooting the four girls cautiously watching a wounded look. Camila kept walking towards the exit, and Lauren stepped up besides me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "She's been like this for a little while, though I expected her to open up to you more than anyone." Lauren paused, emerald eyes flicking across the room to the moving Cuban, and her thick eyebrows mashed together. "Her sister did die two weeks ago, Y/n. She's mourning, coping, and adjusting."

Logically, I knew Lauren was right, but that didn't mean that I wasn't in pain from my wife's calloused attitude. "I know, it's just.. I wish she would open up to someone. I don't want her to explode one day, and cause herself more pain."

Lauren nodded in understanding, before a light sparked in her eyes. "Well, she is seeing that one therapist, Dr. Mahone. They been having phone sessions, and I think they scheduled an office session here in Miami. Hopefully, talking to a professional about grief will help her out."

Hopefully. "That's great. Maybe one day she'll be ready to let me in, and we can try to help each other through it. I know we're not going through the same amount of pain, but I've known Sofi since she was born.. I-it feels like I lost a little sister too." My voice wavered, but I pushed through it. I needed to be strong for Camila.

"Hey, well we're all here for both of you, okay? I love you guys, and I know you will pull through this together."

Smiling at Lauren, I pulled her into a tight hug. "I love you too, Lo."

----------------------------------------

I can't believe you let me down

But the proofs in the way it hurts.

I had known Camila since the moment our mothers decided to get pregnant at the same time, and would rub their stomachs together to make sure their children were friends.

Weird, I know.

But turns out it did have an effect. The total opposite effect.

I was that kid in school who would pull her hair and steal her crayons, laughing when she cried. I never seriously bullied her when we got older, but that didn't mean we were suddenly friends. No, Camila was my mortal enemy.

Since our families were so close, Camila and I would do everything in our power to one up each other. Camila got an A on her spelling test, I got an A+. I made it onto the cheer squad, Camila became captain of the cheer squad. Camila became salutatorian, I became valedictorian.

This little rivalry lasted all the way until our freshman year of college. I had already known, since 8th grade, that I was hopelessly in love with Camila. Ever since the day I saw her kissing Johnny Buns at the end of the year party, I realized that the intense burning feeling in my chest was jealousy.

Either jealousy or really bad heartburn from that cheesy, nacho bomb deluxe I ate earlier that day. It probably was heartburn, but that's besides the point.

Freshman year at the university of Miami, Camila met these four girls in her music class, and through a series of unexplainably lucky events, they started a girls group and made it onto America's Got Talent. The show was travelling to LA, and the night before Camila left my life to pursue her dreams, I confessed.