[DISCLAIMER: MATURE CONTENT!!]
Book 2 of the series We Don't Talk Enough.
Continuing the lives of Lauren Jauregui and Camila Cabello and their friends, we now dive deeper and explore life and what it means to be them through their eyes as they ente...
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8:37am - Los Angeles, CA
All settled in her temporary office at Palms Middle School, Camila started up the computer there and sipped on her coffee as she pulled up some work she needed to finish as soon as possible before the day started. Mornings was usually slow except for Mondays when students would often come in because they needed to talk about all the bad and eventful things that happened over the weekend. Today was a Friday and Friday's were always pretty slow with the amount of work to do, but the day would surely go by fast.
Camila threw her hair in a bun to keep from sticking against her neck when the temperature rose like it always did, and she sat back against the swivel chair to fan herself. She definitely needed to invest in a portable fan for her desk if the school wasn't going to fix the air conditioning problem.
"Come in!" she responded to the knocking on the door and in came her favourite student: Cruz Buckley. Camila smiled softly at the boy leaning against the open door, letting the sounds of many voices and commotion from the halls make way into the office. "What's up, Cruz?"
"Nothing," his lips curled downward. He stroked the long strands of his messy brown hair and kept hesitating before speaking. "Are you free right now?"
"I am."
"Can we talk?"
"Did you let your homeroom teacher know you're here?" Camila asked so he wouldn't get in trouble.
"Ms. Safino won't care," he shrugged and kept bumping his shoulder against the door.
"Cruz, you gotta let someone know."
"I can't talk to anyone, I'm having a bad morning," he hid his face and his frown.
"Fine," Camila offered him a sympathetic smile and got up to let him in and close the door. She knew he meant it and would cry if he spoke to anyone without speaking to her first. "Have a seat, let's talk about why you're having a bad morning."
Cruz took off his bookbag and dragged it to the swivel chair across from Camila. The other social worker wasn't in for the morning so he was allowed to sit at her desk. He slouched in the seat and played with his fingers as he swayed the chair side to side. Camila took one more sip of her coffee then turned around and set up an empty notepad and pen. She turned her chair around to face him seated eight feet away from her.
"What's going on? Why are you upset?" her voice gentle.
He took some time to answer that, searching for a prominent reason that'd help him also talk about the little things. "I don't know."
