Do We Want This? // Camila Cabello x Shawn Mendes

Chapter #4

I've been woken up with the smell of fresh pancakes and turkey bacon. Is he cooking for me again? He probably does this every morning. It's about 9 am and the curtains are still closed. I can still see the thin ray of sunshine trying to peak through the living room, with small dust particles within it. I slowly rub my eyes and yawn the sleep off. I smile knowing that I have woken up without any noise, frustrations and the yelling of my parents. I'm sure Cameron will enjoy that as well, not that I care. I find my way to the bathroom and I see that it's just next door to his bedroom. The walls were a light lavender color and he has a nice apple pie candle burning just beside his cup of razors and toothbrushes. I run the water from the sink and rinse my face from any drool that might have slipped from my mouth. Just as I thought I was alone, I hear a deep, husky voice from the doorway, making me slightly jump.

"Hey."

"Hi. Um, sorry I had to wash my face."

"It's okay, you can totally shower whenever you feel like it. I made breakfast by the way."

"Thanks." Not knowing what to say next.

"It's sitting on the bar counter whenever you're hungry."

"Okay. I'm sure I'll get hungry in a few minutes." I say with a polite, nervous smile

He leaves from the bathroom doorway. I look at myself in the mirror and notice that my eyes look a lot better now that I've gotten at least ten hours of sleep for the first time in a while. Usually when I'm at home, my brother blasts music in his room till one in the morning every night. My parents make as much noise as possible from arguing about shows, or clanging pots and glasses in the kitchen. Not caring if they keep me up at night. The things I've told you about my mean parents so far is nothing. I'm not even ready to tell you all the terrible and intense stuff that they do that just makes me not wanna live here anymore. I cry so much, I shouldn't have any water left in me. I wonder what Shawn's parents are like. Most likely the total opposite of mine. Sweet, smart, caring, giving, loving, and any other positive adjective that you can describe the best parents in the world. Maybe I can go ask him. I walk out the bathroom and find him sitting on his bar stool. I sit on the empty one next to him and say my prayer before I eat.

"I see you like to say a prayer before you eat. That's cute. What religion are you?"

"I was raised catholic, but I think Catholics do way too much with their religion. They tell you to do certain things and what not to do. There's different kinds of objects in the churches that I think are distracting from the true purpose of going to church. But I really think religion is ruining the human race. Like it's definitely separating us. I'm more of a relationship with God instead of being called religious. Being religious is more like practicing things and doing certain things to live a certain way. That's kind of wrong to me."

"Wow, that's deep. I completely understand. Being told to live a certain way is crazy. Kids need to know that their life path should be guided to where they're supposed to be. Being told what to do is how adults were taught, doesn't mean it works for young people."

"Yeah. I apologize for talking so much. Maybe I was really into discussing how I really feel about it."

"No, it's no problem. I'm glad you talked about it and you have a really good reason behind it. You don't need to be sorry for it, okay?"

"Okay."

"Try my breakfast."

I do so and I am even more amazed at how he makes breakfast than how he makes sandwiches. I wonder how he makes dinner.

"Wow, way better than the sandwich. I mean. The sandwich was excellent, but you actually used the stove and the oven."

"Haha, that's true. I told you I'm the master."

"I stand corrected. I will confirm that opinion and see what your dinner tastes like."

"Aww c'mon you wanna wait till then?"

"Yes, Shawn! You better think of something good or you don't wanna lose your reputation."

We both laugh. Our breakfast and orange juice is finished up and we are both sitting on his clean leather couch looking through the many novels from his bookshelves.

"I forgot to ask you, if this isn't too straight forward and personal."

"Anything you wanna know." He smiles back

"What are your parents like? I imagine them as sweet and loving with an amazing relationship. They always have everything together, but maybe not always. Yet everything comes back to normal at the end of the day, right?"

He just laughs. What kind of laugh was that? Did I make a good assumption? Maybe I shouldn't assume things. Does he have parents exactly like mine? Is this why he has his own apartment? He probably got kicked out or just moved out.

"Well, you got all of that correct. But all of that was just in the beginning. Up until I was just sixteen. After that, everything just went downhill. Both my mom and dad were just nice, innocent people until they allowed the wrong people enter their lives. Those people got them to drink and smoke every substance under the sun and their appearances just don't look the same anymore. They look run-down and old. They're both 43 years old, supposed to look young as they always did. But now that the drugs have basically ruined their lives, they now look about 65. They went to parties every weekend; that's what they would spend their weekly paycheck on. So as I got the idea that my parents wouldn't really take that much care of me anymore, I got myself a job and saved up a whole lot. With the help of a couple of friends because I told them how much I was struggling. I was only a sophomore in high school. Just barely knowing what to do when I graduate. I still graduated, I just never applied to college. My parents made a big mistake, Camila. They would even hit me coming home drunk. I remember when they were sober enough to remember their own son's voice, I told them that it was the last straw. I made enough money to buy an apartment and take care of myself because I want them to realize what they've gotten themselves into and that their son couldn't handle anymore. I was devastated. I still love my parents to death, but I'm really happy about the decision I made. With the help of good friends, who aren't bad influences."

I just couldn't help but listen to every single word he just said to me about his parents. The very people who gave life to him. That is a very big deal. To whoever doesn't think that's a big deal, just think about you being a sixteen year old, out of the blue, having to take care of yourself all of a sudden and watch your parents come home drunk every night, and to hit you too? How would that make you feel? Parents are annoying and kids aren't the only ones who need to be taught things and to know right from wrong. But parents can be taught things too and they don't know everything there is to know. But his parents were just plain stupid for doing what they did.

"Shawn. I am so sorry for what happened. How did you cope with it? Do you have any siblings?"

"No, thank goodness. If I had any, man, that would've been twice as terrible. Especially if they were little girls. One child was enough for them, and I wouldn't want anyone else to go through all that trouble like I did."

"When's the last time you spoke to them?"

"When I told them I was moving out."

"So, four, five years ago?"

He couldn't do much but slightly nod. His eyes filled up with glistening tears. I pull him into my arms without even thinking. He gives back the gesture and I already feel safe. It's like an exchange. I give him reassurance, he gives me comfort. His warm embrace makes me feel like I have been born again. I feel free and loved for the first time. I wanna stay with him forever. I know I'm speaking too soon and I still want to know more about him. What if this is all there is to know?