My Favorite Camren One-Shots

Game On

Wiping sweat from her brow, Lauren grabbed her long, dark hair and pulled it up into a messy ponytail. She hunched forward, hands on her knees, and started to prep for the speech. This was the speeches of all speeches. President Obama wishes he had a speech that was full of encouragement and inspiration. Lauren snapped out of it and began to focus at the task at hand. The Speech.

“Okay, you guys. This is it. The moment we have been waiting our whole lives for, this-” She was interrupted by a hand shooting in the hair.

“Our whole lives? Lauren, we’re only 12, isn’t that a bit dramatic?” Lauren trained her green eyes on the girl who dared interrupted her speech.

“Jessica, would you kindly let me finish please?” The girl rolled her eyes but nodded anyway, giving Lauren the green light.

“As I was saying,” she looked around the circle at her cute, little demonic group of 12 year olds, “this is it. The title for Camp Walker’s National Kickball Championship. Do you understand what this means? Bragging rights, you guys! We get to go to breakfast tomorrow, first in line I might add, and rub it in the faces of the other team. They will be losers tomorrow and we will be the champions. And I get to wear the crown, don’t you guys want to see your favorite camp counselor wearing a crown?”

The group responded with some grunts and a few ‘sure’’s. Seemingly satisfied with the response, Lauren clapped her hands, gathered her team into a hug, and shoved them out onto the field.

On the other side of the field, Camila Cabello huddled with her team. She blew a bright pink bubble, waited for it to pop, adjusted her backwards baseball cap and then she began.

“This is it, you guys. Can you smell the sweet smell of victory? Because I know I can. We are going to crush Jauregui’s team and it will be glorious. Just imagine, the last ball is caught. The last out is made and you feel it. That sense of pride that swells in your chest and the tears of joy stinging your eyes. Everyone is cheering your names, the sound of the crowd erupting in applause vibrating you to your core.” She sighed deeply and looked into the faces of her pre-teen comrades.

“We can do this, I have all the faith in the world. Now hands in everyone! What should we say?” A collective voice broke out in between the players and Camila squinted trying to pin point one voice. Realizing this was going to take longer than she thought, Camila interrupted the group.

“I got one! On three, everyone say Jauregui sucks,” she smirked at the grins she was receiving from her team.

A timid little boy with glasses raised his hand, ”Camila isn’t that bad sportsmanship though?” Camila looked at the boy and smiled softly.

“No, Ian! This is all in the name of kickball,” she huddled the group, threw her hand in, which was followed by 12 other hands, and smirked.

“Who’s ready?” Her team gave a triumphant yell, patiently awaiting the countdown. “On the count of three! 1, 2, 3, JAUREGUI SUCKS!” Their hands went flying and the kids all scrambled towards the field. Camila blew another bubble and faced Lauren on the other side of her dugout.

“Wow, I can not believe you are encouraging a group of 12 year olds to be so rude towards your own girlfriend!” Lauren shouted, making sure her voice carried.

The bubble in Camila’s mouth popped and she smirked, “All’s fair in love in war!”

Lauren narrowed her eyes, “Oh it is so on, Cabello.” She grabbed her baseball hat, put it over her ponytail and swiftly turned into the dugout, smiling slightly at her girlfriend’s antics. Her smile was quickly wiped away at the sound of the umpire calling the two lead camp counselors to the pitching mound.