Failure I
Camila's POV
I failed.
I studied for weeks, spent countless hours reading over the material, did practise tests yet I still failed my calculus test.
I look down at the big fat D on the paper and more tears pour out of my eyes.
I fucking failed.
I crumple the paper for the millionth time, only this time I stash it in the back of my closet, away from anyone's eyes.
I wasn't going to show anyone. I wasn't going to tell anyone. Even though I had spent the last two hours crying about it in my room, I was going to forget about it and act like it simply didn't happen.
But seriously? I worked so hard and I was certain I knew all the material.
It was all so humiliating. When my teacher first handed it to me, I smiled up at him like a giddy little girl and when I caught sight of the paper, I had to stop myself from losing it right there.
However the shame and self pity wasn't the worst part. It was the fact that I had people counting on me. Marco was probably looking forward to seeing at least a B and I had let him down.
I'd been in denial for so long but this just proved what I'd been scared to admit all along.
I was dumb.
The thought brings even more tears to my eyes and when I look down to mamá's bracelet on my wrist, I cry even harder.
I'm such a disappointment and I couldn't hide this from her, she's probably up there frowning down at me right now.
The shame eventually gets too much for me to handle so much so that I can't stand to be alone with myself anymore, I fall back on something I know won't end well.
I walk down the hall to Alejandro's room.
I hadn't seen much of him all day and although I was partly avoiding him on purpose, I needed someone. I sigh in relief when I see him sitting on the sofa on the other side of his bedroom, near the fireplace and wet bar.
The fire is on and he's currently talking on the phone.
I knew from the way in which he was speaking it was someone important, plus he wasn't yelling. He was trying to remain as clam as possible, yet the poor file in his hand was slowly crumpling with the way his hand was balling into a fist.
I hesitantly take a step into the room, trying to make it seem like I'm going unnoticed, but can't even bring myself to do that properly seeing as I'm the biggest attention whore I know.
The thought brings a new set of tears to my eyes.
Its as though he senses my presence as I approach him because he leans forward sets the file on the table near him and holds a hand up for me, the universal 'wait' signal.
I ignore it and walk closer, until he glances up, his eyes briefly scanning my face before he does a double take.
He sits up, alarmed as he swiftly ends the call, promising to resume the conversation later, the action satisfying the attention whore inside me.
"What's wrong?" He sombers up immediately as I walk forward to stand before him.
A whole new set of tears gather and stream down my face as I look into his big brown eye. He would be so disappointed in me. I couldn't possibly tell him.
He already thought I was dumb, I couldn't give him another reason to think it.
I settle on a half truth. "I miss her so much." I say softly wiping at my eyes viciously.
A sigh escapes the man, and his eyes soften while a large hand engulfs mine and he pulls me down onto his lap.
I comply, falling to straddle him while he wraps his arms around my waist and pushes my head into his neck.
He doesn't say anything, but his fingers do travel into my scalp as he softly massages with his fingertips, allowing me to cry.
Cry about mamá. My grades. Feeling so alone. Everything.
I try focusing on his steady breathing and his fingers buried into my hair as he runs them through my scalp, but I can't seem to calm down. Instead I cry harder at the thought of never having someone to want to hold me like this ever again.
Alejandro only felt like he had to and I knew I would never be loved like I wanted. It's not that I was unlovable, I just knew Alejandro would grow sick of me-if he hasn't already.
I was too much sometimes and I hated myself for it. Mamá was the only one that had loved me unconditionally and now she was gone, and so was that unconditional love.
Eventually, I compose myself and sit up as he wipes a few tears and moves some hair out of my face. "You feeling better, Principessa?" The question is delivered genuinely and my chest loosens. He's not being mean, distant or awkward.
He's being sweet.
I rest my forehead against his chest and nod. Yet despite the way I'd just balled my eyes out, I didn't want to talk about what was making me sad right now. And I knew that if he began to pry, I'd burst and end up telling him the truth.
I didn't want that.
I enjoy the silence, that is until he pulls my head up to his. "You'll tell me what is bothering you, yes?"
"I don't want to talk about it." I sigh, moving my attention to study the buttons of his dress shirt. I change the subject. "Tell me about your day instead."
Alejandro eyes me like he knows what I'm doing but decides to drop it when he leans back into the couch.
He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands as he blows out a heavy breath. "Tiring, stressful and inconvenient." And then he moves his head from side to side, loud cracks sounding from the tense joints in his neck. "The usual."
I cringe as he brings a hand up and rubs at his neck in an attempt to stretch and relive the knots around his shoulders. He doesn't do a very good job.
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