Chapter Text
"Hey, what's wrong, Bonita ?"
Her eyes fluttered at that nickname, the one that the whole town had given her, and was almost always used by him.
Camilo's eyes were trained on her face, trying to figure out what was making her look so...uncomfortable.
"I...I feel sick." She answered. It was not entirely a lie. She did feel dizzy, nauseous, even. Because of that conclusion that her mind, but most of all her heart, had made about this boy in front of her.
"Did you eat too much?" He snickered, poking her side as an added touch to his teasing. She, however, did not find it funny as her cheeks grew warmer than before.
"Camilo." The girl stressed, her hand grabbing the other arm as she grimaced and subconsciously took a few steps away.
Camilo laughed sheepishly at her response, and trotted closer and placed his arms around her to lead her towards the kitchen, where his tiá Julieta was. The healer.
"We can go get some food my tiá made. Make you feel better?" He proposed, yet the girl wiggled free and out of his grip and made a beeline back towards the doors of casita despite the crowd that surrounded her path.
"No, I don't want to waste her powers...or her time. Some rest will do just fine, I'll be fine. Adiós , Camilo."
Oh, so close, yet so far.
The shapeshifter took hold of her wrist, halting her hasty exit.
" Esperar, Bonita . Why are you in such a hurry to leave? Did I do something wrong?" His eyes glossed over as his brows knit together. "Is my party too much for you? Shall I make the guests go away?"
How sweet of him to even think of driving away the partygoers and the well-wishers that visited for his birthday just for her, but she can't really make him do that. Even though her heart squeezed itself inside her, she did her best to breathe.
"Camilo, you've never done anything wrong. You're p-perfect, it's just..." she stammers, finding the right words without telling him what her heart decided. "I need some rest. I don't want to ruin your party by fainting or vomiting on poor casita's floors."
At her half-joke, casita's tiles shuddered beneath her, expressing its distaste for her sick splattering on it.
Camilo looked so sad, (Name) wished she could endure it and stay but she knew she couldn't. Not when she had to think about it. Really , really think about it.
"Can I walk you home, at least?" He asked, almost pleading. She had to shake her head and say no, though. She needed to be alone.
" Perdón, Camilo, pero no. You should stay and enjoy your party. It's your day, have fun!" (Name) pressed her hand on his cheek to cheer him up. "I promise I'll be okay. Feliz Cumpleaños , Camilo."
" Gracias . Take care, okay? Te Quiero , (Name)." Camilo pulled her into a hug, one that she didn't return, but more so pulled herself out of.
"I will. Good night, Camilo."
And she left, leaving him with a feeling of guilt and a confused conscience that maybe he actually did do something wrong.
Pepa and Félix appeared beside him, wishing him a happy birthday for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, but he seemed so down in the dumps that they couldn't help but also turn their heads to where he was staring at.
And it was little Bonita , walking away and hurriedly, even.
Camilo's parents exchanged a glance and bent down to speak to their child.
"What's going on, Hijo ?"
Camilo dragged out a sigh and sank down on one of the steps on casita's porch.
"She left. Without telling me why. She said she was sick but I think there's something she's not telling me. I might have done something wrong..." Camilo, deflated on his mother's shoulder, still stared at the spot where she had been walking, now long gone and most likely back at her own home.
“ Ay , Camilo. Why don’t you go after her, hm?” Félix asked, gesturing towards the road that showed itself to the village.
“No, papa. I think I’ll stay and let her be alone. Maybe I really did something wrong, and I don’t want to make her feel worse.”
Pepa’s lip quivered at the thought, throwing her arms around Camilo and squeezing him tightly in a warm embrace, contrasted by the light drizzle her clouds had made.
“My bebé is all grown up!” she wailed, Camilo smiling at his mother and father as he tried to shoo away the rain cloud that accumulated over them. Yet the boy couldn’t help his eyes lingering towards the pavement.
That night, when the guests left, when the plates were washed and put away and the lights were off, Camilo snuck into his sister’s room.
“Dolores. Dolores!” he whispered, knowing it was enough to wake her.
“Ugh, what do you want, Hermano ?” she groaned, rolling over her bed and pressing one of her pillows into her ears.
“I need you to listen to what Bonita’s doing. Please.”
“ Ay, Dios Mio. ” she chuckled, sitting upwards and sighing. She had heard what happened, and Camilo knew this, so she needed no reason why. Dolores listened, and sure enough, she heard. Her eyes, which were half closed from being awoken from her sleep, snapped open, and her brows narrowed in confusion at what she was hearing.
“What? What is it?! Does she hate me?” Camilo clamored, sitting on her bed as he awaited her answer.
“No, she’s not saying anything. But she’s probably wearing out her wooden floors. She’s pacing awfully hard.” Dolores answered, shrugging at her brother. She then pushed him out of her room and bid him good night and one last Feliz cumpleaños .
Camilo huffed and marched to his room, making sure to slam it dramatically.
—
The next day, Camilo was no longer 15. And now that the celebration and the partying had passed, the chores and the requests from the village still had to be done. One villager, in particular, had a peculiar favor to ask of him.
It was Damián, the boyfriend of one of the girls their age. He asked if Camilo could transform into Aleja, his fairly new girlfriend because he wanted to surprise her with a new dress and new shoes when she came back home from the camping trip with her family to the mountains that surrounded the Encanto.
Camilo raised a brow at this, yet complied. Not without mocking him in Aleja’s form first.
“ Basura! I’m breaking up with you!” he said in an annoyingly high-pitched voice and turned his nose up as he pointed at the dresses that hung in their stalls. Damián simply laughed and slugged his shoulder jokingly.
Damián was an excellent tailor and his father was just as excellent a shoemaker. Together they spun him around and measured what needed to be measured.
Though before the last measurement, their pencil had broken. And so they both asked him to stay where he was so that they could fetch a new one. While he sat down on a bench nearby their house, he saw (Name) sitting on the fountain in the plaza, directly in front of him. She looked very troubled, her leg bouncing as she chewed on her thumb.
He must have stared at her too long that she felt his eyes on her, and when she looked up, her face lit up in surprise.
Camilo had slightly cowered. Slightly.
And when she got up and power walked towards him, he thought he would perish. Surely, with a stride and a gaze like that, she definitely hated him. Camilo screwed his eyes shut as she neared him and raised her hands.
“Aleja, you bruja !” she laughed, smacking his arms playfully.
Wait, Aleja? His name is Camilo.
His eyes momentarily flickered downwards and remembered that he was still in Aleja’s form. He also remembered that Aleja was Bonita ’s “other” best friend. Of course. He was her first best friend, though. The only one, as a matter of fact — who even has another best friend that’s just ridiculous —
But , he thought, if Bonita thinks I’m Aleja, then there’s a chance she would tell me why she hates me!
“I thought you were going to be away for more than three days! It’s only been two!” she shook his arm with fake anger. He smiled, more like grimaced, really , and waited for her to speak some more as he watched her sit beside him.
“Actually, Aleja…” she sniffled. “It’s great that you’re here. I didn’t know how to talk to mama and papa about it, so I was going to wait until you come back. But you’re here now, so I’ll tell you before I back out of it.”
She took his hands in hers and rubbed them with her thumbs. Camilo’s heart skipped a beat. Not that he’d admit it.
“You see, Camilo’s birthday was yesterday. And something happened.”
This was it, it was actually working. All he had to do was not say anything.
“We danced together, you know? Ignacio played a very romantic song and he asked me to dance. I thought it was okay, to dance with him to a love song.” The girl sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Because we’re friends, right? I mean there’s nothing wrong with dancing to a love song with your friends…” she trailed off with a half-hearted laugh.
Did she leave because he was bad at dancing? His mama always said that he was a great dancer.
“It’s not because he was bad! It was because he was good, too good. And Dios Mio , Aleja. I felt so queasy when he dipped me during the song.” she released a longing sigh.
Queasy? Does she have problems with movement? He wondered. Maybe she really was sick.
“Ah!” she sobbed, draping herself on Camilo, poor, clueless, lost Camilo. “He was muy guapo , Aleja! I could practically hear my heart beating in my ears! His gorgeous eyes and adorable smile! And oh, how he sang the song while we swayed to the music, I thought I would die right then!” She rocked on her seat, eyes closed as if she was reminiscing the moment.
Camilo felt his face heating up, he felt as if his mother was extremely happy that the clouds were not there to shield him from the blazing, blistering sun. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, and wow , were blouses this hot in the summer?
“ Eres mi luz, mi niña bonita. Nunca podría vivir sin ti, cariño. ¿Sabes que mi corazón está tan lleno de ti? ” she sang, her voice wavering from the shaky smile that was plastered on her face.
“Say, you’re uncharacteristically quiet,” she murmured, pulling away from the hug to peer at Aleja’s weirdly sweaty face, but she shook her head. “Anyway, last night I barely got some sleep. Because I thought about it. Very hard. I didn’t think it was true at first but I thought about what happened and what’s been happening and what I want to happen and-!” she took a deep breath and sighed.
“What I’m saying is, Aleja…” (Name) righted herself, placing her hands on her lap with a face full of honesty and determination.
“I think I’ve always liked Camilo.”
And he felt his stomach drop to the floor.
“What?!” Dolores screamed from the sala .
“What?” Pepa and Félix turned their heads towards their oldest child.
“ Bonita has feelings for Camilo!” she announced, but immediately slapped her hands over her mouth.
“What?!” Pepa and Félix shrieked again, looking at each other and piecing together the events of yesterday and Dolores’ declaration.
“What?!” Julieta, Agustín, and Mirabel exclaimed, being right outside of the kitchen and hearing her words.
“You like me?!”
Camilo slipped up, this he was willing to admit. He was so shocked by this revelation that he couldn’t help but say something. But saying something meant that anyone would know he was using his gift.
Especially the person he was in a conversation with.
Bonita ’s eyes widened as big as saucers, her face as red as the tomatoes that grew in Carmen’s family garden.
Then her hand connected to his cheek with a powerful slap, powerful enough to have him rolling on the ground. He morphed back to his actual form, his brown curly hair bouncing in his vision as he sat up and rubbed his face – the part where it stung so badly. Maybe his tiá has some leftover arepas he could munch on later.
“Oh! L-lo siento mucho! But you- Camilo…! H-how could…Why…” she sputtered, the townsfolk turning their heads towards the commotion. Deciding that she couldn’t handle the stares and the whispers, she sprinted away, and Camilo never missed the hints of tears in her eyes.
Yes, maybe he really was right that he should have left her alone because he might make it worse. and he just did. He just tricked her into thinking she was safe to show her vulnerable side, to share her secrets and how she really, truly felt. And there was no way he was going to forgive himself.
“ Idiota , Camilo. Idiota. ” he grumbled, leaning on the wall as he shut his eyes, frowning at what he did.