The Perfect Match《Camren One-shot Story》

The Perfect Match

Notes:

Sorry for not updating for a few days, didn't have the motivation, I'll try to finish HEAD OVER HEALS by the end of this week, meanwhile I hope you'll enjoy this converted one shot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Camila was in the middle of lunch when a boy plopped down across from her. He wasn't someone she knew, but one quick glance at his perfectly pressed, ironed, and buttoned up school uniform told her exactly what kind of type he was—the type rule-breakers like her usually needed to avoid at all costs.

"I'm in dress code today," Camila said immediately, as a force of habit. She'd been in trouble with the student council often enough to know to cover her bases ASAP.

The boy cocked his head in confusion, then shook it. "That's not why I'm here. I wanted to talk to you about... I mean, I heard some people mention..." He squirmed a little in discomfort. "Is it true that you help set people up? In exchange for history essays?"

"No," Camila said innocently. "Of course I don't. Because that would be entirely against school rules and completely despicable."

She totally did, though. As a foreign student, she was complete garbage at writing essays for American History and couldn't be bothered to do it. She was, however, the daughter of the creators of Europe's most popular dating app and by association picked up the reputation as somewhat of a love guru, and though she wasn't exactly sure how accurate this reputation was in actuality, it did give her something to barter with. In exchange for a factually correct and well-written history essay, she would do her best to use all her matchmaking and relationship know-how gleaned from her parents' pages upon pages of dating and compatibility statistics to urge the essay-provider together with their crush of choice.

This, however, was not something she could confess to someone on the student council or looked as if they belonged on the student council. She knew it was cheating, but she only ever did it for the one class since her history teacher refused to be understanding about the fact that her knowledge was years behind those of her classmates, having grown up overseas.

The boy leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him like a lawyer prepared to lay down his case. "I'm not going to get you in trouble," he said solemnly. "I seriously just need your help. And I'm top of my year in history, so I can guarantee you a stellar essay if you help me out with my...situation."

This could very well be a trap, but Camila was willing to take the bait. "All right. Who's the lucky girl?"

"Lauren Jauregui. She's in your grade, so I figured you knew her."

Camila grimaced. "Lauren Jauregui, as in 'student-council-President-Lauren-Jauregui'?"

He nodded. "That's her. I'm a junior member of the student council, and Lauren's just like...everything I aspire to. She's smart, good looking, she's kind and fair and ...super, super dreamy." He sighed longingly. "But she's older than me and completely on a different level from a nobody underclassman like me, so I need all the help I can get to get her attention."

Camila sighed. "Look...what's your name?"

"Andrew."

"Andrew. I'd love to help you, but I'm just not sure it's going to work. The student council and I don't really mix. Back when I was an underclassman like you, the old prez was pulling me in constantly for stupid little things. Having piercings, not tucking my shirt in, forgetting my tie, so on, so on. Lauren was a junior member of the council while all of this was going on, so all her memories of me would be of me as the council's most hated delinquent." Camila straightened her regulation navy blue tie. "I mean, I stopped dressing however I want and wearing my piercings so I could enjoy my last year of school away from that student council office, but I'm sure President Lauren is still not my biggest fan."