Falling is the easy part (Camren)

8

Camila:

I like Tom. He's a nice guy, good looking and perfect for Normani. Any guy that looks after his girlfriend as well as he does gets kudos from me. I know it my shock you to hear that I'm not totally anti-relationships given my attitude to guys, I'm just against me being in relationships. I'm not a fan of the hassle, of the having to be accountable to someone, of having someone who relies on me or on me having to rely on anyone else.

I don't like the idea of being responsible for someone else's happiness. I don't like the idea of getting close to someone, of becoming attached to someone else and knowing that they have a hold over you. In my experience, relationships don't end well. People get hurt. People walk away. People leave and stop caring. Relationships cause heartbreak and sorrow and all that crap. Why would I want to put myself up for that?

I know that not all relationships are bad, like Normani and Tom's. They're happy and cute together. They give me faith that maybe there is good that can come from falling in love. I guess I just have a screwed up view when it comes to love.

I'm not against it.

I just don't think it's meant for me.

I was in my own little world as we walked towards the party. Hopefully I wasn't going to end up being the third wheel to Normani and Tom tonight. I know Normani had asked me to come so I could keep her company just in case Tom disappeared with the boys, but it's just as likely that the two of them will end up making out all night and leaving early to go to bed. Of course usually that doesn't bother me because I'm usually making out with some lad anyway, but like I said earlier, I'm not feeling that tonight. Don't ask me why. I don't want to think about why.

I followed Normani and Tom as they made their way up a driveway, the pumping music coming from the house ahead gave it away as the location of the party. It looked packed. Maybe this would turn out to be a good night.

My eyes were drawn to two girls next to the doorway outside, one of them smoking but both of them were almost bent double laughing, clearly drunk already. I could only see the smoker's face, the other girl had her back to me. I didn't recognise her but the girl's whose face I couldn't see properly seemed familiar. But I couldn't place her. It's not like I spent a large amount of time studying girl's backs is it? As their laughter died down a little, the non-smoker leant forward, touching the arm of the other girl affectionately.

For some strange reason, I felt a tinge of jealousy.

I ignored it.

I'm not gay.

Tom clapped a hand on my shoulder, and shoved a plastic pint glass filled with some indistinguishable pink drink under my nose. I looked up and saw that he'd done the same to his girlfriend. Normani caught my eye, she wore the same look of confusion on her face as I knew I probably did. "Happy juice," Tom proclaimed, clearly clocking the expressions on our faces. "Drink up ladies!"

I took a tentative sip, it wasn't bad, strong, but not too hideous. Normani, however was still staring at it apprehensively. "Happy juice?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at her boyfriend, who was chuckling slightly. "What's in it? It's not, like, got anything weird in it has it?"

Tom laughed, "no babes, nothing weird. Just plenty of alcohol and fruit juice. It's Danny's mate Jay's speciality apparently."

Jay? Did he just say Jay? It can't be Lauren's Jay can it? Fuck. I'm sure there must be more than one Jay in Miami surely. More than one Jay with a mate called Danny. Wasn't there a Danny out with us on Saturday? One of the boys Jay was drinking with? I'm sure Lauren had mentioned a Danny. Could it be this Danny, whoever's house this is? Fuck. Does that mean that Lauren's here? If Jay's here, then Lauren would be here too right? Oh this can't be happening. I took a large gulp of the 'happy juice', resulting in a little cheer from Tom. Oh fucking hell. Now I knew. The girl outside. I knew why she was familiar. The girl I couldn't place. The girl flirting and laughing. The girl who'd made me feel a little jealous. The girl whose back I'd dug my fingers into in the early hours of Sunday morning.