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English
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Published:
2015-03-23
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1,345
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1/1
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33
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470

The Music in You

Summary:

a camila/dinah high school au told from a third person's perspective

Work Text:

I walk past her. She’s sitting outside the art room with the girl she always sits with; the one with the blonde-brown hair.

She, herself, has long, dark-brown, wavy hair and she runs her hand through it as she nods her head to the beat of the song that’s playing. It sounds like something by Beyoncé.

She starts to sing, exaggerating each lyric with hand motions and faces that make it seem like she’s trying really hard to hit the high notes that she isn’t actually hitting. Her friend rolls her eyes jokingly, but just a few seconds later, a smile spreads across her face. It’s the kind of smile that radiates and shines like she’s the sun. It’s the kind of smile that makes the dimples under her eyes become visible and the kind of smile that causes the girl with the long, dark hair to stop mid-song because now, she’s also smiling a really big smile. The girl with the blonde-brown hair and the snapback laughs leans her head to the left so that it rests on the tinier girl’s shoulder.

She could hit those high notes if she wasn’t only singing right now for the sole purpose of making her friend laugh. I see them in the cafeteria sometimes at lunch. And sometimes the taller girl pulls out her phone and pleads with the other girl- who is usually too busy stuffing her face with pizza to cooperate- to make one of those 6 second vine covers with her. And eventually, once she’s finished her pizza, she gives in. And if you’re close enough, you can hear them and she actually can hit the high notes. Well, after a few unsuccessful tries where she purposely tries to make herself sound as terrible as possible, just to annoy her friend.

I don’t think there’s ever been a time that I’ve seen her in the school hallway where she hasn’t been singing. She doesn’t just sing though; she nods her head and sways back and forth and drums on the air or the purple binder that she’s always holding. Even when she has her headphones (that are always just a little bit too loud) in, she taps on her thigh or walks to some kind of beat. It’s like she has this music inside of her that’s running through her veins until it reaches her finger tips and is released through every strum of her air guitar.

In class though, she never said much. She said so little actually, that I didn’t even know her name was Camila until she started hanging out with Dinah. They were on complete opposite ends of our high school’s social spectrum and I don’t know the details of it, but one day I noticed that they were inseparable. They’re CamilaandDinah, they’re DinahandCamila. When names are being talked about in the halls, their names always come up together. When there’s a party, it’s never just “Dinah’s going,” anymore. It’s “Camila and Dinah are going.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Camila at a party before Dinah and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dinah smile and laugh as much as she does at parties now before Camila.

They usually walk in hand-in-hand. Dinah will often pull Camila to the middle of the room to dance and Camila will follow shyly, hiding her face in her drink and her hands in her sleeves.

“Just because it’s your favourite song, Cheenz,” she’ll say.

It becomes clear by the end of the night that every song is Dinah’s favourite song, because Camila is still dancing with her. And they both laugh and sway and sometimes Camila will lose her balance and Dinah will catch her before she falls flat on her face.

“Do this one!” and one of them will do a move so ridiculous that it isn’t even explainable and the other will join in a millisecond later. And they’re so in sync because ridiculous dance moves are a thing that they practice together.

Camila’s still quiet in class. But sometimes, now, she’ll raise her hand and share her work. And when you make eye contact with her, her eyes no longer dart away like she’s afraid. She smiles. The beautiful brown orbs are now filled with so much life. Before, her smile would never really reach her eyes. They always looked hollow and never at ease. She used sit in the back of the room and would make an effort to look down when the teacher would call upon any volunteers. She would listen to music with her headphones when there wasn’t a lesson going on and she would lightly tap her fingers on her purple binder to the beat. But it was never comfortable. The tapping would stop if anyone looked in her general direction.

It was never as lively or energetic or as carefree as it is now. She can get lost in the music and sway her head back and forth and tap her foot to the beat. And when she’s in the halls with Dinah, she sings and dances the most ridiculous dances. Dinah will tell her that she’s embarrassing and push her away but then she’ll laugh and pull the tinier girl closer to her, putting her arm over her shoulder.

*

The audience cheers as Camila and Dinah walk onto the stage. Camila brushes her hair back with the hand that isn’t holding Dinah’s and she looks down at her feet as she walks. They’re both nervous, you can tell. Dinah's just a bit better at hiding it. They take their seats on the stools that are waiting for them. Camila picks up her guitar and Dinah grips the microphone that’s on the stand in front of her. Camila turns her head to the taller girl, and with a nod she begins to play. It’s an acoustic version of Disclosure’s Latch and they make it sound even more incredible than the original. Camila plays and does some harmonies in the background while Dinah sings the first verse. The tiny guitar player comes in with the chorus and everyone cheers after the first note. She can do things with her voice that I didn’t think were possible. She turns to look to her left halfway through her solo seeing that her best friend is looking right at her, with a smile that seems to be lighting up the entire auditorium.

They sing the rest of the song; some parts together, some parts solo, and every bit of it is absolutely beautiful. The audience roars. I don’t think I’ve ever heard our school so loud, not even at a basketball game. Dinah says something into the mic that looks like a “Thank you” but it can’t be heard over the applause. They both stand up and take a bow that is possibly the worst bow I’ve ever seen. It’s more like “the wave” but with two people. They’re not as in sync as they are at parties or on Dinah’s vine account when they dance to One Direction songs in their pajamas.

Before leaving the stage, Camila gets on her tip toes and gives the taller girl the biggest hug, causing her to lose balance a bit and shift backward. Dinah wraps her arms around her, smiling the biggest smile. Camila has a look on her face like she can’t believe what just happened, like she can’t believe that all of these people are cheering for them, like she can’t believe that she, the girl who used to sit in the back of the classroom and would avoid eye contact at all costs, just got up on stage and sang in front of the whole school. She looks like she could cry, like she can’t believe that this is her life. She takes Dinah’s hand and they leave the stage, the spotlight going off, leaving the theater in darkness.

I don’t think Camila’s ever looked as happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile shine as radiantly. Maybe it’s Dinah that creates the music in her.