westward grove

three

"I just don't understand what would compel you to want to do that for a living," Normani told me, picking at the leftover Chinese food on her plate.

I knew that she wouldn't be thrilled with my new place of employment, but I didn't know that it would spark an argument that would last over an hour. I was tired as hell, and even more so, I was tired of arguing with my girlfriend. She was supposed to support me in everything I did.

"Can you just be happy that we'll have two steady incomes for once?" I asked. I knew she wouldn't be complaining about my job once I was bringing home paychecks, but for the time being, she was acting as though it was the end of the world.

"I just don't want you to degrade yourself for money." Normani replied bluntly. It was a fair statement, but I didn't feel it was hers to make.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, unable to contain my anger any longer. "I don't give a fuck anymore, Normani. If you don't like what I'm doing, maybe we shouldnt be together anymore."

Her face dropped, and I realized almost immediately that I shouldn't have said that. "If I leave, you're homeless." Normani replied coldly before slamming her plate into the sink, causing it to break into thousands of small pieces. "You don't want to throw away four years of your life, Camila. Stop being a fucking idiot." She added before walking into our bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Normani rarely swore, but when she did, I knew that a fight was out of control. She wasnt wrong about everything, though. If we broke up, I wouldn't have anywhere to go. I couldn't move back in with my family, and I didn't really have any friends. Hotels were out of the question, there was no way to afford them.

I suddenly felt trapped. Subconsciously, I always knew that I couldn't leave. There was no option other than to stay in the relationship. It's not that I was ready to break up, simply the fact that we couldn't. Normani obviously knew that all this was true, she was usually just more hesitant to throw the facts in my face.

Despite the uncomfortable thoughts flowing through my mind, I continued with my nightly routine before plopping down on the couch, where I would be residing for the night. My thoughts became more erratic, touching on anything and everything that was prevelant. From Normani, to non existent book deals, to my new job, taking an extended moment to consider my new boss.

Lauren was something else. I felt an instant attraction and connection to and with her, much stronger than I'd experienced with anyone else. Everything about her was sexy- her eyes, her voice, her body, her confidence, her attitude. I didn't try to lie to myself about the fact that I was more than interested in fucking , but I did try to bury the fact that one of the first things that I thought about upon meeting her was love at first sight.

Nothing that I thought I felt really mattered, though. I was in a relationship, and it was more than likely that Lauren was straight, let alone single. I needed to focus on diving into my new job, and having a healthy relationship with my coworkers, especially my employer.

/

I awoke to an unpleasant pain in my neck and the sun in my eyes. I reached for my phone, accidentally ripping the charger out of the wall with it. I had a few miscellaneous texts and Twitter notifications, but a message from Normani stood out more to me than the rest.

I'm sorry about last night. I'm a fucking idiot. I just think that you're worth so much more than dancing half naked for creepy dudes. I love you so much. Forgive me?

Of course. Love you, x.

I thought almost nothing of it as I plugged my charger back into the wall and proceeded with my normal morning activities. Without effort, I avoided thinking about Normani and our fight from the previous night. I knew that she just needed to sleep it off. We'd had pretty bad arguments before, and that wasn't one of them.

For a while, I did various things around the condo Normani and I shared. Mainly, I was just cleaning the already spotless home. My mother always used to say that cleanliness is next to godliness, and that was one of the only messages that she instilled in me that stuck.

At noon, I walked down the stairs of my building. My bike was locked to a pole out front, and I unlocked it before swiftly heading to my destination. It only took about fifteen minutes of biking before I saw the neon sign that read Westward Grove. I locked my bike to another nearby pole and made my way inside, promptly heading for the bar. The blond bartender I had met yesterday wasn't working. Instead, I was met with a thin, olive skinned guy who seemed to be around my age.

"Hi," I greeted upon walking up to the bar. "I got a job here yesterday. I was supposed to come in and work some stuff out today." I explained, taking a seat on the same stool I used previously.

The bartender smiled, sliding a drink over to a middle aged man before giving me his full attention. "Camila, right?" He asked in a raspy English accent. I began to wonder if everyone working here was European. "I'm supposed to give you some paperwork. It's all bullshit, all of those procedure questions." He explained, digging the papers and a pen out of a drawer near the cash register. "One of the dancers is going to show you around after her shift. Your timing is spot on, she gets off in a little less than an hour."

I quickly thanked him and went to work on the papers, plowing through them as fast as I could. Like he said, it was all basic procedure. They were simple questions, but I hadn't answered them in a long time.

After around twenty minutes I pushed the papers back over to the bartender. He picked them up and began reading. I wasn't sure whether that was legal or not, but I didn't object. "Karla Camila Cabello, huh?" I nodded. "You made a good call going by Camila. It suits you better." He added, ending the sentence with a wink.

"Thank you," I replied quietly. "I uh... I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Zayn," he extended a hand, which I took. "And, I know what you're thinking. I'm not flirting with you." Zayn added, smiling slyly. I wasn't sure how he had picked up on my unease so quickly.

I laughed in spite of myself, but felt generally relieved. "I'm sorry. I must seem really conceded now."

Zayn shook his head. "You're beautiful and all, but, you're not my type." He said, cocking an eyebrow. "If you know what I'm saying."

"I think I do," I replied, leaning across the bar to slap him playfully on the shoulder.

"You met Niall yesterday, right?" He asked, and I nodded as confirmation. Zayn beamed at the sound of his name. "We're probably the hottest interracial couple in Miami." He joked, smiling widely.

Perhaps I am conceded after all, considering I was sure Niall was flirting with me yesterday. "Yeah, I'm sure you guys are cute and all, but, me and my girlfriend are the hottest couple on this side of the Atlantic." I replied sarcastically. "She's black." I added, realizing that I needed to stop telling people that.

Zayn threw his head back, letting out a huge laugh. Before he had a chance to reply, a delicate hand brushed my arm. "Good afternoon, ladies." Lauren greeted in a voice raspier than what I heard yesterday. My heart skipped a beat as I looked her over, admiring her features.

Zayn rolled his eyes, but was unsuccessful in hiding a smile. "Good afternoon, sir." He replied jokingly. He feined a serious face, narrowing his eyes, darting them between us. "Watch out for this one," he warned, pointing at Lauren. "She's dangerous, don't let her charm you into anything." With that, Zayn smiled and walked away to go tend to customers, leaving us alone at the bar.

Lauren's hand had ended up back on my arm, and I took a moment to memorize the touch. She turned to face me, moving the hand that had graced my skin to her side. "Do you smoke?"

I quit two years ago, but something told me that lying would lead to a more pleasant outcome. "Yeah, I do."

Lauren smiled softly, obviously content with my response. "Do you want to go outside for a minute?"

It was me smiling softly now, as I replied, "sounds good."

a/n: plugs:

twitter: europeanormila
snapchat: lizsevier