If I Were A Boy (camren)

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Karla. I go by Karla now," Camila nodded while clearing her throat.

"Really? I mean- wow, it's great to see you," I juggled with words since I was lost in the moment. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm Trevor's teacher," she grinned and patted the small boy's head gently. 

"How did Ally not even realize-"

"Oh no; Ally knows I'm his teacher. Didn't she tell you?" Camila furrowed her eyebrows in complete confusion.

"She didn't actually," I confessed, then looking down at the bouncing four year old. "Are you ready to go, Trevor?"

"Yeah!" He shouted enthusiastically and hopped off the bench. 

"We should catch up some time, Lauren," Camila got up from her seat as well. "I really want to know how you've been after all these years."

"Only five years," I pointed out. "There's not much you can do in that time."

Camila smirked, "Still, I'd like to know. My number's the same; call me when you get a chance?"

"Of course," I lightly replied with a smile and turned away with Trevor's tiny fist engulfed softly by my hand. 

"Goodbye Trevor!" Camila called after him. "See you tomorrow!"

"Goodbye Mrs. Mahone!" Trevor squealed, waving with his other hand. 

My eyes bugged out of their sockets at the last name. The conversation I had overheard years ago was all becoming so clear to me now- Camila's dream of becoming a teacher, marrying Austin. All that was left would have to be a baby. God if she had a child, I think I would loose it! 

I hadn't realized that I had sped up my walking pace, basically dragging Trevor along with me back to the car. I needed my distance from my old friend, and I needed it bad.

*

"Why didn't you tell me that Camila was Trevor's teacher?" I shouted into the receiver of the mobile phone. 

"Jesus, Lauren! I didn't thank you would care so much," Ally spoke back through her end of the phone. "But obviously you do!"

"Yeah- no shit, honey!" I growled and started to move my separate hand through my hair in annoyance. "It's been five years, Ally. Five years where I haven't seen her face; five years of peace and quiet. I finally convinced myself to begin socializing again, and try to have a good time. When I do, the past love of my life who caused me so much pain and anger just jumps right back in!"

"Laur-"

"I've got to go," I mumbled when a knock at my door echoed throughout the house. Slipping my cell phone away, I grumpily trudged towards the entrance and swung the door open; making sure to look amused and delighted for whoever was on the other side.

A man with shaggy yet curly brown hair was positioned before me. His deep brown eyes reminded me of Camila's, and he wore a simple white t-shirt with an opened black coat. The male squinted his eyes at a slip of paper that he held in his hands before looking up; his expression changing once he saw me. 

"Are you Lauren by any chance?" He asked with a British accent tangled behind the question. "My friend recommended that I'd see you. I just moved into an apartment complex a few weeks ago and really need some help with designing."

"That's my job," I extended my palm out with a gleam. "Lauren Jauregui, at your service."

"Bradley Simpson," he shook my hand firmly. "But you can call me Brad."