Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
KAMILA
S omething’s ringing. Correction, something’s blaring. The urge to throw my phone across the room, pull this blanket over my head, and sleep in all day is overwhelming. But today is important. The big debate that’s worth thirty percent of our grade, that just so happens to be on a Saturday.
My phone vibrates again and shows that it’s six thirty in the morning. I let out a groan and drag myself out of bed. These past couple weeks have been absolutely brutal. Ana and I fought…well, more like she yelled at me for no valid reason, and I barely retaliated. Usually, I’d stand my ground with her random tantrums, but I have no right, not with what I’m doing behind her back.
Although midterms have been the perfect diversion. Em and I have pulled multiple all-nighters this week. Including one for yesterday’s business test, and, of course, this bitch of a professor had to get us all together on a Saturday at seven-forty-five in the morning, the day after that exam. Two midterms, two days in a row.
However, I got a call from Tara two days ago and have an in-person interview next week for the internship at King’s Wolf.
Cameron and I have barely seen each other, except in classes, once last weekend and once this week, when we were able to sneak in two quickies. And by quickies, I mean ten-minute sessions in his dorm room. No foreplay, just plain old in and out. Not that it wasn’t good, it was still great, especially for quickie standards. Both of us came every time, yet he felt distant. I blamed it on both of us being distracted by the workload.
We were instructed to wear business casual attire today. I laid out my outfit last night in order to have more time to fix the mess on my head that’s supposed to look like hair. After a lengthy discussion with Em, we landed on a dark gray pencil skirt that stops at the knee, a tight black long-sleeved turtleneck, and short-heeled boots. Along with a coat and sensible jewelry.
My hair finally untangles after multiple attempts of brushing it. It’s gotten longer since the summer and reaches past my breasts now, making it harder to maintain. Finally, I apply some light makeup, just enough so I don’t look like hell, and some of my favorite red lipstick that barely ever smudges. I stand to see my outfit, making sure that nothing is wrinkled and everything looks perfect. Then, a hint of dread hits me. My hand moves to my lower belly. It’s noticeable through the pencil skirt, there’s no way around it. No matter how much I’ve tried in the past with diets and all kinds of exercise, it never goes away. It’s my biggest insecurity. Despite that, ever since high school, I’ve worked on loving my body with positive affirmations, learning to build a healthy relationship with food, and found out how to make going to the gym fun. It gave me the confidence I have today to wear tighter clothing, such as pencil skirts.
Skipping my daily coffee, I grab my bag to leave. They’ll have breakfast in the lecture room where we’re all meeting. It’s the least Mills and the department could do.
I reach the room at seven-thirty and quickly make my way to where the coffee station is when somebody steps in front of me.
“Coffee?” Cameron looks down at me, offering me a covered cup matching his own.
I look at the drink with narrowed eyes and take in his outfit. A dark burgundy button-up shirt highlights his muscular arms and it’s tucked into some black straight-fitted pants. My eyes pause when they reach his black dress shoes. They’re definitely not cheap. The boy has good taste. I haven’t seen him this dressed up since graduation.
“You don’t even know how I take my coffee.”
He smirks. “Splash of whole milk, a packet of light brown sugar, and a sprinkle of cinnamon. I personally never understood why you have to add all of that to a cup of coffee, but hey, whatever gets you going.”
I hide my surprise and rip the cup away from him. “You’re lucky I haven’t changed my order since I turned sixteen.”
“First cup of the day?” he deadpans while drinking his own coffee, which is probably black.
“How could you tell?” I take my first sip and look at the cup like it’s something foreign.
“Yeah, I know it’s strong. Astor Café has the best coffee on campus, in my humble opinion. They seemed to have gotten this from the dining hall.”
Huh. I look back at Cameron, who’s scanning the room while students come in. Astor Café does have the best coffee. It’s also the one connected to my dorm.
“Do you go there often?”
He shrugs. “When I can. Maybe three times a week. Why do you ask?”
He still doesn’t know where I live, and I don’t want him to find out.
Pretending I didn’t hear him, I casually glance around. “Have you seen our teammate?”
Mills assigned Cameron and I a new partner from another class since groups are supposed to be made up of three people. There’s the unlucky few that end up in pairs, but it's highly rare.
“No. There’s still a couple of minutes left until Mills comes in, he could be running late.” Cameron points to the table of baked goods. “Do you want anything to eat? ”
He’s being nice, and it’s freaking me out. I shrug casually and nod. “Sure, why not.”
There aren’t many options, so I opt for a cheese danish and banana since I don’t usually get hungry in the mornings. Cameron, on the other hand, takes two cherry danishes, two croissants, a banana, and an apple.
“You still eat as much as you did in high school, and you’re even fitter now. How?”
He smiles. “I was blessed with a fast metabolism, you know this.”
“Of course, you were.” I roll my eyes. “How do you have so much energy?”
“I’m on my third cup of coffee. Let’s go sit.”
This isn’t the classroom we’re normally in, so we wander to the ones closest to us. While I peel my banana, Cameron dips his head, his lips brush the shell of my ear, catching me off guard.
“You look sexy today. You look sexy every time I see you, but pencil skirts are my kryptonite.” My eyes widen. “And if we had time, I’d take you into a classroom, pull that skirt up, exposing your ass and fuck you from behind.” Chills sweep over me while I remain silent. “It might be eight in the morning on a Saturday, and yet every guy here almost broke their neck trying to get the slightest glimpse of you since the second you entered the room.”
My body breaks out into goosebumps as he places a small kiss behind my ear. I turn to him, and our faces are merely two inches away. His eyes drop to my lips, and they part while my breathing quickens. This is way more effective than coffee. My whole body is up and running. Adrenaline is coursing through me. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he was paying so much attention to those other guys when we’re interrupted.
“Kamila and Cameron.” We both straighten in our seats at the sound of Professor Mills’s voice.
I plaster on a fake smile as I turn to her. “Yes, professor?”
“It seems that Doyle has a case of food poisoning and has been in the medical center all night. It’ll be just the two of you today,” she says as if it’s an inconvenience to her.
I frown. “Is he okay?” As much as this sucks for us, Doyle must be feeling like shit.
“He’ll be fine as long as he has proof that he is actually sick; otherwise, he’ll likely fail.” A slight smile grazes her face. What a psycho bitch.
I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood before I say something that could make me fail the class. Luckily, she quickly walks away.
“Cold-hearted bitch,” I mutter under my breath.
Cameron chokes on his drink with a laugh. “The coffee was what saved me from saying anything. I can’t stand the sound of her fucking voice anymore.”
“We’re totally screwed. Why us?” I sigh and tap my foot anxiously.
“Nah, we’ll be fine.” Cameron shrugs as if it’s nothing.
My cheeks heat. “Cameron, this is worth thirty percent of our grade. We need to do well, and everybody else already has the upper hand. Doyle was smart, we needed him.”
“You’re smarter.”
Now it’s my turn to choke on my coffee.
“I meant we’re smarter,” he stutters, avoiding all eye contact. Meanwhile, I’m staring at him like he’s gone crazy.
“We. Will. Be. Fine,” Cameron bites out, dragging my attention elsewhere.
I decide to let the odd compliment go. “I just want this day to be over with.”
“Same,” he snaps.
Mills dismisses us, giving everyone an instruction sheet and team schedules. Cameron and I head to the liberal arts building, where we’ll have our first debate. There’s three debates, three different teams, three different classrooms, and three different moderators.
Fun, fun, fun.
“Kamila,” Cameron says quietly.
“Yeah?” I respond absentmindedly.
“We need to get along today, and we have to act professional, meaning we can’t argue.” Cameron’s voice is stern, leaving no room for questions. Still, that doesn’t stop me.
“I can do that. The question is, can you?”
“You’re the worst out of the both of us,” he states.
A humorless laugh falls from my lips. “Fuck off, Kahlo, or I will list all the petty things you have done since the semester started.”
He smiles. “And I’ll do the same.”
We stare at each other, and by the gleam in his eyes, I know he’s not bluffing. “Okay, enough,” I bite out. “This is stupid.”
“You started it.”
“You’re a child.”
He nods, not denying it.
I back down, “Okay, no petty arguments.”
“I’m glad you can finally see things my way.”
Rolling my eyes, I stop him in the middle of the hall. “Wait.”
He eyes me nervously. “If you’re about to tell me that you’re starting to feel sick too, I swear?—”
“No, it’s not that. We forgot something important,” I say urgently.
“What?” He looks around as though whatever we forgot is somewhere near us.
“Take your phone out,” I demand.
His eyebrows furrow. “Okay?”
“Now, set an alarm for the end of the day that way, you know when you’re free to act like an ass again.”
His nostrils flare as he sidesteps me. “Point. Made. ”
My laugh echoes around us.
Two minutes later, we’re in front of the assigned classroom.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Ready.” We shake hands as a final agreement and step inside.