It wasn't long after Cameron got home that her phone buzzed. A text from Jasmine.
A picture? A selfie. Jasmine smiling, surrounded by her neatly moved-in belongings. Cameron's heart clenched in her chest. This was a treasure—something delicate, something to be protected. For a moment, she hovered over the screen, contemplating setting it as her background. No, too soon. That was something you did when things were… official. She needed time before that would be acceptable.
Following the picture was a message:
Jasmine: [Thanks again for today! I had so much fun.]
Cameron melted into her bed, grinning like an idiot. A real, genuine, fluttering excitement she hadn't felt in years. She wanted to respond immediately but made herself wait a minute or two, just enough time to seem normal, cool. When she did, her text was casual, playful. Their exchange flowed easily, lighthearted and familiar.
Jasmine: [Hey, have you heard about that new café that opened up? It's connected to a bookstore I wanted to check out.]
Cameron froze.
Was this a date? It had to be. Jasmine was asking her to go. Just the two of them.
It must be a date.
She let out an embarrassingly giddy squeal, quickly muffling herself with a pillow. This was it—fate giving her a second chance. She stared at the text for a while, letting the moment sink in before composing her response. No exclamation points. No emojis. Just a smooth, effortless [Sounds fun. When were you thinking?] They confirmed a time and day, and with that, the conversation ended. It didn't matter. This was everything Cameron needed.
The high from it carried her into the night, her thoughts consumed with Jasmine. How could she have ever considered cutting her off? That was ridiculous. This—this—was meant to be.
Near midnight, she was still staring at the ceiling, replaying every detail of the day when her bedroom door creaked open.
Rosalie.
She leaned against the doorframe, studying Cameron with quiet curiosity. "What's got you in a good mood?"
Cameron flashed her a lazy grin. "Nothing. Just had a good day."
Rosalie didn't buy it. "You helped someone move. Doesn't sound like a good day."
Cameron shrugged, carefully picking her words. She didn't know what to call what she had with Rosalie, and the last thing she wanted was to sound like a cheater. They weren't together. There was never a conversation, never a promise made. If she didn't put a name to it, then it couldn't be wrong.
But she could see the tension in Rosalie's shoulders, the sharpness in her gaze. "Is this about the same girl you were losing your mind over?"
Cameron scoffed, rolling onto her side. "You're jumping the gun."
Rosalie didn't respond right away. Then, under her breath, "I think you're jumping the gun."
Cameron felt a flicker of annoyance. She didn't want to do this. Not now.
She sat up, locking eyes with Rosalie, the tension thick between them. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was something else, but she wanted to shut this conversation down. And she knew exactly how.
Slowly, she pulled Rosalie closer, pressing her lips against hers. There was hesitation at first, a brief resistance—then Rosalie gave in.
Cameron took control, guiding her onto the bed, deepening the kiss, making it purposeful. She wanted to feel in control, to take what she needed. If she made Rosalie feel wanted, maybe she wouldn't question things too much. Maybe she'd stay where Cameron needed her—somewhere easy, somewhere that didn't demand labels.
Their bodies tangled together in the dark, the rhythm familiar, practiced. But Cameron wasn't lost in it like before. Her mind flickered elsewhere, to Jasmine's text, to the idea of a café date, to a future that felt within reach.
When it was over, Rosalie laid beside her, silent. Normally, she'd say something sarcastic, or she'd fall asleep without a word. But tonight, she just stared at the ceiling.
Cameron didn't ask what she was thinking. Didn't want to. She rolled over, facing away, letting sleep take her.
Rosalie stayed awake, her stomach twisting. This wasn't good. This wasn't going to end well.
But she already knew—Cameron wouldn't listen.