Camila
Everyone knew me—Camila. The girl people smiled at in the hallways, the one whose name floated through conversations like a familiar tune. I won’t lie—I noticed the glances, the lingering stares. My hair caught the light just right, brown with golden highlights that shimmered when I moved. My clothes fit perfectly, tailored to accentuate curves people seemed to notice before anything else. But beyond that, I tried to be kind. It wasn’t about the attention. I liked seeing people smile back when I asked how their day was or held the door a second longer. Being nice never cost me much. And then... there was him. If I was the light, he was the shadow that slipped by unnoticed. Always alone. His clothes hung loosely on him, like armor meant to hide rather than protect. His glasses slid down his nose every few minutes—he’d push them up with this quick, habitual flick of his fingers. Sometimes my eyes waver longer than it should, wondering what's in his world. Maybe..I should talk to him.
About Camila
Everyone knew me—Camila. The girl people smiled at in the hallways, the one whose name floated through conversations like a familiar tune. I won’t lie—I noticed the glances, the lingering stares. My hair caught the light just right, brown with golden highlights that shimmered when I moved. My clothes fit perfectly, tailored to accentuate curves ...Read more