battle of the bands (and babes) ~ camila/you

chapter four

Camila's house was big, because of her lawyer parents that were never around. When we got there, I was feeling better and able to walk on my own feet. Camila, however, did not think so.

"You're, like, power walking! Don't do that, dum dum lollipop!"

"Mila, I'm fine. I swear." I walked towards the front of her house when she pulled on my arm.

"You were a boxing champion, huh?" She kinked an eyebrow.

"It was a long time ago. That was the old me." I said, gripping the Golden Gloves necklace I always wore under my clothes. "Now, I'm a band geek."

"A very good looking and talented band geek." Camila said.

I laugh and continue to the door. "Really, I'm fine." I say, looking at her worried face.

"Are you su- OH MY GOD!"

WHOOMP. My body flew to the floor. I must've walked into the door. "Oh, there's a door. Forgot about that." I say while gritting my teeth. My whole body ached, and, ow, my head throbbed. Camila ran over.

"Y/N! Oh my gosh..." she jabbered in a motherly tone. She picked me up slightly, decided I was too big for her to carry, and then dragged me inside. Yes, dragged. She may be pretty and smart, but she lacks common sense.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow." I mumble as she drags me into the living room. In one fluid motion, she flings me onto the couch. "Holy shit, how do you do that?" I exclaim.

"Shhhhh." she points upstairs. Oh, Sofi. I forgot.

"Sorry, baby." I murmur. She nods and gives me a big hug. "Thank you." I say softly.

"You seem hungry." Camila pouted. "How about some pizza pockets and Grease on Netflix?"

"Okay!" Camila left the room, and brought me some shorts and a shirt. The shirt read "Slice, Slice, Baby", and the shorts matched with tiny little pizzas printed on them. She smiled, patted me on the head and strolled into the kitchen, humming Sandra Dee and doing little twirls around the microwave. I headed to the bathroom to change.

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By the time I hobbled to the bathroom, changed, and hobbled back to the couch, Camila had set up the living room. The coffee table was stuffed with ice cream, pizza pockets, and other yummy snacks. She was laying upside down on the couch in a pizza onesie (god she owns a lot of pizza items) when I walked in, and when she saw me enter the room, she excitedly jolted up only to fall off the couch. I snickered quietly, and before you knew it, we were full on cackling.

"Shh. Shh..." she said through suppressed giggles. She pointed upstairs again.

"Right. Yeah, I know. But I have a weird question."

"I have an even weirder answer."

"Remember the night I asked you out?"

"How could I forget?" Camila laughed. "You were so nervous that day! You told me to go check the drum closet and then I came back and you were gone! Then I found the card you placed on my car! You wrote a poem about me and stuffed it with water lily petals! The next day you were so nervous to talk to me about it during music theory, but I said yes right before our final project."

That was, by far, the best day of my life.

"I meant it when I said I love you." I told her, as my arm laid on the back of her neck.

"I love you too." She said, kissing me passionately.

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It was the first day of sophomore year. I sat in my Civics class next to my best friends Nate and Dinah. We were playing Uno before class started, when suddenly Mr. Holmes cleared his throat loudly.