Yes, Ms. Cabello. (Camila x You)

Detention

The next day...

Of course, I try to open the door but end up walking into it since it's locked.

With a frustrated and embarrassed sigh, I knock on the door and step back, making sure nobody saw that but thankfully it looks like they're all too busy getting to the lunch lines.

After a few moments, the door opens and Camila is on the other side, wearing a broad smile.

"Y/l/n, glad you could make it." She comments and steps back into the classroom, leaving me to close the door behind myself. I hear it automatically lock and gulp. I head over to my usual seat.

"Did you think I wouldn't turn up?" I question as I sit down, dropping my bag beside me.

She takes a seat behind her desk and instantly turns her computer screen off and flips her phone over so it's face down.

"Maybe. You do have a reputation, Y/n. In case you weren't aware." She replies, slightly sarcastically, and props her elbows on the desk and rests her head in her hands.

"What if it's just a reputation, Camila?" I ask in a similar tone, and her deep brown eyes look me over as if trying to tell if I'm being honest or not, even though I'm just asking a question.

"I've always had a thing for pretend bad girls." She says nonchalantly, while I instantly, and internally, freak out. Obviously.

"Is that so?" I spit out, though smoothly, as I lean forwards to mimic her position.

"Maybe." She repeats, and leans back in her seat, brushing her fringe away from her eye.

Her hair is half up, half down today, and she's wearing a little more makeup than usual, including more of a smokey eye, which only accentuates the smoldering look she's currently giving me. Then she clears her throat and glances away and when she looks back, all of the intensity in her eyes is gone again.

Camila's POV

Oh God, what am I doing!? She's a student, for fuck's sake!

I've already stayed at home because of her flirting with me, I can't be the reason she does the same.

"Do you know why you're here?" I ask after clearing my throat, hoping to relieve some of the awkward tension floating between us.

"Nope." She shakes her head and leans back, and it seems she's put her mask back on too. I could see the panic in her eyes when I'd said that previous statement to her, and I'm not sure it was a good thing.

"You have a quiz to make up. I'm giving you a chance to retake it even though you were on your phone and I technically don't have to, so don't take it for granted." I inform her and hand her the same quiz she got given yesterday, now with the 'x' concealed with white-out, and she takes it with a small huff, "You're also in here for misconduct towards a member of staff. Be grateful I didn't give you a write up or send you to the principal." I add and turn my laptop back on, quickly clicking off of the website which details legal boundaries with student-teacher relationships and replacing it with the grading system so I can get some more work done while I eat.

"Can I have some?" I hear a small voice from in front of me after five minutes or so of silence, and it almost makes me jump since it doesn't sound like Y/n's at all. When I look up, her eyes are glued to my food and I glance down to see that she's almost finished the first question.

"What?" I ask, and she points at the lunch before me.

"Can I have something to eat? I didn't bring lunch and I don't have any money." She says, looking up into my eyes and how can I say no?

"Here." I offer her an apple which she gratefully takes and proceeds to eat rather loudly as we continue to sit in silence.

After a while of typing and chewing and pencil-scraping-across-paper sounds, there's a rustle and she slides the complete quiz across my desk.

"See, not so hard now, was it?" I grin and put the paper onto the stack of things to grade, and look back at her. Big mistake.

She's leaning across the desk with her arms crossed and her chin resting on them, and she looks so damn cute, even in those ripped jeans and that studded leather jacket.

Her phone buzzes and she breaks eye contact with me to answer it, holding it to her ear.

"Yello?" She answers, and there's a brief pause where her expression changes into a smirk, "Oh, really? Tell me about it." Her tone, which is truly dripping with seduction, almost makes me drip with something else.

"Mmm, just the way I like it." She comments and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I have to put a stop to this somehow.

"No phones in detention, Y/l/n." I instruct with a slight tightness of my throat, and she narrows her eyes at me before turning to the side in her seat as though I won't be able to hear her.

"Sorry, babe. I'm in detention right now, but wait for me and I'll see you later, yeah? I can't wait to taste tha-"

"Y/n!" I snap sternly, unable to deal with what the rest of that sentence could be, and she quickly hangs up and puts her phone on the desk.

Y/n's POV

Camila writhes in her seat, thinking I won't notice the blush on her cheeks or the slightly darker shade of her eyes. Little does she know that that call was just Cara wondering where I am, and then asking what's wrong when I started talking like that to see if Ms. Cabello would get jealous, which she obviously did.

"My apologies." I say with a bucket load of sarcasm, "When someone calls me wanting to-"

"Okay, I get it." She interrupts me again, holding her hands out as if to block my words from reaching her, "Lunch is almost over, you can pack your things and leave." She rushes out and keeps her gaze glued to the desk, and suddenly I feel really bad.

"Wanting to bake cookies." I lie quickly, "It was Cara; I was just joking around with her. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She looks up at me briefly and is even redder in the cheeks, but has a slightly shocked and confused expression.

"O-okay." She mumbles, "But you can still leave if you want."

"No I can't. Lunch detentions last until the bell rings; trust me, I'd know." I joke slightly and her blush fades as she chuckles, thank god.