Camila pov
After my mom dropped me home, I went to my room, grabbed my swimming gear, and headed straight for the creek near my house. I don't have any neighbors. I live on 82 acres of private property. The closest place to it is another property nearby, which is also private. It's usually empty. The river borders both properties.
As I arrived, I heard splashing—and there he was again. Brown hair and caramel-kissed skin. He was swimming, and Lord knows he had my attention. I was curious, but not enough to engage. I walked down the riverbank to my usual spot. As I walked away, I noticed he was watching me. I prayed he hadn't realized I had been watching him—or that I was the same girl from the other day.
I got to my usual spot and let my hair free from its restraints. My curls bounced into a curly afro. I stripped down to my one-piece, long-sleeve black swimsuit and dove off the rock.
The landscape was beautiful. It glistened like diamonds—green, glowing, alive. The air smelled like cinnamon, and Lord knows, the water felt like home. I couldn't help but smile as the water took my problems away: exams, Deron, my loneliness—the water took it all.
I flipped around in the water for hours and watched the sun fall behind the mountain. It looked like my happiness slipping out of reach. Slowly, I walked out of the water, packed my stuff, and prepared to leave.
That's when I noticed the apple tree that hung over the ledge—it had fruit. Apples are my favorite. Against my better judgment, I decided to climb the tree and grab one—or five. As I climbed up, I slowly regretted my choice. My skin was wet, and there were ants in the tree. As annoying as they were, I wasn't leaving without an apple. Eventually, I got one.
Then came the cliché of the century: I fell and tore my swimsuit. I hit my left arm, and it hurt like bitch . But hey, at least I got my apple. The fall wasn't far, but it still stung. I got up, washed the dirt off, checked my arm as best I could, grabbed my stuff, and ran home.
I jumped in the shower and tossed my torn suit into the laundry basket in the corner of my room. After a while, I got out and found myself wondering: Why was he there? How do I break up with Deron? And what do I tell my mom about my arm?
It wasn't broken, just bruised. The fall wasn't serious, but falling out of a tree and getting bitten by ants? Not something my mom would approve of. She'd be upset if she knew I got hurt. She loves me, I know that. Even though she's busy most of the time, she cares.
I pushed the thoughts away and walked to my bed. I had some milk and played Call of Duty on my phone. My friends should be home by now—I hoped they were online. Sometimes they'd get on calls together and chat over Google Meet, but I'd be excluded. Not that I talked much anyway. Even when I was invited, I barely spoke. So I kept to myself. It's easier that way.
I figured maybe a nap would be better than gaming, but apparently, I was too restless to sleep. I lay awake, wondering.
Eventually, I opened my old laptop to watch a movie, but it was glitchy—it barely worked anymore. Julia used it more than I did. Her accounts were still logged in, which reminded me—an invite for a chat meet tonight popped up.
I figured I'd hop on, say it was me, and let Julia know I used her email. I texted her and she said it was fine. She wasn't home and wasn't in the mood to chat with the girls. They usually excluded her anyway. She also said Deron was probably on the call and that Lana was the one who usually hosted it.
I said okay and joined the chat.
The words that hit me were like rockets.
Deron, Lana, Clark, and Emma were on the call. Clark and Emma are Deron and Lana's friends—I don't know them well.
I was about to say something to let them know I was there when Emma started talking again. She said she only invited Julia to tell her the truth—that I wasn't even a good person to be friends with. That the fact I hadn't "given it up" to Deron yet was crazy. That I was a self-righteous loser who needed to get with the times.
I felt sick to my stomach.
I was about to exit the call when Deron spoke up.
He said I was lucky I was pretty, and if I wasn't, he would've already left me for Lana.
I waited for Lana to say something. Anything. But she didn't. And when she did, she said Deron was a nice guy, and I was lucky to have him.
I exited the call immediately and slammed the laptop shut.
I was appalled—but not surprised.
That was the moment I decided:
Tomorrow, I'm ending things.