Best Friend's Brother

Seven: Camilla Dominguez

"Hey Jake?" I look in the mirror, trying to dutch braid my hair. "I realize I've not really asked you about your life lately. How boring are your classes that I'm not in?"

"I'm doing fine; I like college. And for your information, my classes are fantastic. It's so nice when you're not babbling in my ear like a baby." Jake look up from his phone. He shifts his weight on my bed, and leans his back against the wall.

I spin around on my heels and plop on the foot of the mattress. I drop my hands, letting go of my flimsy braid.

"What are you talking about? I do not talk like a baby!" I purposely whine. Jake laughs, and looks back at his phone. He holds it close to his chest, like he is hiding something.

"What are you looking at Jake?" I lean forward, reaching for his phone. He slams it to his chest, making it so I can't take it.

"Nothing important." Jake mumbles. He clicks the off button on the side of his phone, and sets it on the bed next to him.

While sitting back down, I run my fingers through my hair, loosening the braids until they fall out of place. Then, I cross my legs, and lean my elbows on my knees.

Just looking at Jake, I can tell he is hiding something from me. His arms are crossed over his grey Adidas hoodie, and his legs folded with a purple throw-pillow laying on top his black jeans.

He scratches behind his ear. Ever since we were little, each and every time he scratches behind his right ear means he's lying. He doesn't do it on purpose, it's just automatic, like a reflex. It's a reflex, not to help you survive, but instead to make his life harder.

I gasp. "Jake! You're such a liar!" I pounce forward, landing on the slim section of the bed next to him. "What are you hiding from me?" I roll into my side, resting my head on his chest, looking up at his smug face.

"Like I already said, nothing important." He says, looking straight ahead. He knows if he looks at my puppy-eye glare, he will cave into telling me. He tries to keep a straight face, but I can see a smile seeping through his mask.

"Fine. Don't tell me." I stand up from the bed and start to walk back to the mirror. Before I even get two steps away, Jake pulls his phone back out, still holding it close and safe to his body.

I quickly spin around, jump forward, and grab Jake's phone out of his hands. As I land on the bed by his feet, I hear him gasp.

"Gabriella! Give that back!" Jake yells at me so loud that the whole dormitory could most likely hear.

I roll off the side off the bed, and run into the living area, with Jake's phone in hand. Jake yells after me, but I don't dare to even think about giving the phone back.

"Gabriella! Give it back!" He runs through the doorway, with his hands out ready to steal the phone back into his safe hands. Just before he reaches me, I jump back over the couch, run into my room, and slam the door shut. These doors can't lock, so I push my back to it, and slide down to the floor.

"Gabi! That's my personal belonging! This is not fair!" Jake screams, pounding his fists on the other side of the wooden door.

"I've not unlocked the phone yet. I will not open it if you just tell me what you were looking at." I tell him.

There is silence. The pounding stops, but he still doesn't say a word.

"Fine then..." I say punching in his combination. His lock has been the same for as long as I can remember; His Mom's birthday.

The phone unlocks to show a Instagram page. All of the photos consist of a beautiful girl.

She has tan skin, and long, curly brown hair, that glistens in the sunlight. Her brown eyes are so dark they are almost black and her body is the perfect hourglass figure. In one photo, she is wearing ripped jean shorts, and a blue bikini top. There is a gold, heart shaped necklace sitting on her throat, and a colorful band siting on her ankle. Her hair is perfectly tied up into a messy bun, with stands of hair framing her face.

"Who is this?" I stand back up, taking my weight off the wooden door.

"Camilla Dominguez." Jake responds, opening the door slowly. I sit on my bed, and set the phone down next to me. Jake follows my lead and plops at the other end of the mattress. "She's in my Creative Business course." 

"Why didn't you just tell me you were on Instagram?" I lean back, crossing my arms over my black California sweatshirt. "I mean it is not something to be ashamed of."

"Because I knew you were gonna make fun of me... I was on a girl's profile. If I did that a few years ago you would have attacked me." Jake mumbles, looking down, ashamed.

"I would never do that know! We're college students now, I am mature. You just gotta' lil' obsession on a gorgeous girl, that's all." I laugh. 

"Okay." Jake crawls over and lays on the small section of the bed besides me. I slide over so he can have more room, and rest my head on his chest. I yawn, and slowly drift off to sleep. Jake smiles and soon, he does the same.

****

The sun gleams though the window and strikes my eyes. Its like the universe does not want me to get my beauty sleep.  I wince, and look over to the side to see Jacob still sleeping, in the same exact position as when I went to sleep. One arm over my shoulder, and the other behind his head. I move my hand around the bed between us hopelessly until my palm hits Jake's phone. 

10:07 am

I drop the phone on my chest, and rub my eye with my fore-finger. Staring up to the ceiling, I yawn, and try to figure out what to do today. Writing essays for three classes, notes, and studding for exams take up most of my weekends, but today I want to go explore somewhere.

I roll of the side of the bed, and shuffle to my dresser. Quietly, to not wake Jacob, I pull out a pair of jean shorts, and my Tommy Hilfiger t-shirt.

Last year, when I got the shirt, I made it into a crop-top, by cutting the bottom few inches off the bottom. 

I roll up the short sleeves, since it is almost one-hundred degrees outside, and slide on my converse. I look in the mirror to see Jake still sleeping behind me. He has flipped onto his side, and is curled into a small ball, with his hands under his head. 

I slowly walk to the window on the other side of the room. As I unlock and open the window, I hear Sleeping Beauty start to awake behind me. He groans, flipping onto his stomach, laying his crossed arms under his head, using them as a pillow. 

I stick my head out of the window, and I spot where I want to go. 

A park, across the street. There is a tall straight tree in the corner, perfect for shade and to read under. I can imagine leaning against the bark, with only myself a fantastic book from one of the many Stanford Libraries, reading for hours.