Miss Cabello (Camren)

15

No one's PoV

Lauren awoke with a groan, holding her left palm over her eyes to shield them from the blinding Miami sunlight. Her messy hair sprawled out across her pillows, and her top had ridden up from her deep slumber.

It was a Sunday. Exactly one day before the field trip to New York, and Lauren stared blankly at her suitcase packed in the corner of her room.
Since things had become messy with Camila, Lauren had no desire or energy to even want to go on the trip to New York, let alone attempt to mend things with Camila. Lauren wanted to deny it, but her heart was slowly opening for Camila, and it killed her to have Camila throw her away like she meant nothing to her all along. Absolutely nothing.

She stumbled out of her bed and into the kitchen, finding her mother sat at the coffee table with her reading glasses, a cup of tea, and head buried in the newspaper.

"Morning Mom." She grumbled. "How'd you sleep?"

"Not bad dear. You?"

Lauren just groaned in response, not wanting to dwell on the topic. She poured herself a bowl of chocolate chip cookie cereal and sat opposite her mother at the table.

"Y'know, Lauren." Clara started, taking her glasses off from her eyes. "Our neighbour Camila, the woman who came round for dinner a couple months ago, came round yesterday whilst you were at Normani's house. I saw her crying through our peephole and thought I'd have a chat with her. Turns out her and her boyfriend had broken up, poor thing."

Lauren's heart started racing at the mention of Camila, and her throat became tight and dry. Her heart seemed to fall at the thought of Camila crying, and Lauren couldn't help but think part of it was due to her.

Clara gave her a questionable look, taking a sip of tea.

"Maybe you should go over there?" She suggested. "You know, give her a gift to brighten her day?"

Lauren coughed loudly, her eyes widening at the suggestion. "I-I don't-."

"It's fine." Clara smiled. "I can help bake some brownies or something. Will she like those?"

The rational part of Lauren's mind faded out, and she found herself slowly agreeing to her mom's suggestion.

"She hates brownies." Lauren found herself saying, not able to stop. She remembered from the many conversations they had in her classroom that Camila found them too sickly and chocolate-y. Instead the brown-eyed girl had said she much enjoyed vanilla-iced cupcakes, or strawberry sprinkled donuts.

"Um..." Lauren stuttered, her cheeks flushing. "I think I remember her saying at the dinner that she liked vanilla-iced cakes."

"That's good." Her mother smiled, finishing off the last of her tea. "I have some vanilla icing in the cupboard. Will you get the ingredients out dear?"

Lauren reached into the cupboard, pulling out a few ingredients, and for the next hour her and Clara went into baking mode. Within thirty minutes the cupcakes were ready to take out of the oven, and Lauren stuck her tongue out in concentration as she helped her mother ice the cakes.

"Perfect." Clara beamed. "I hope Camila will like these."

Lauren's heart thrummed from nervousness, and her hands were covered in sweat. She bit her lip to refrain herself from whining, and placed the cakes in a container ready to take to Camila.

She stopped by the door with the container in her hand, a thick line of sweat beginning to form around her eyebrows. Her loose striped vest top clung to her body, and her grey sweats seemed to shake slightly along with her legs.