Camera Girl - The Vamps / Brad Simpson

After Brad drops me off, I linger on the front steps for a few moments, watching his car continue down the street then up into his driveway. The cool air hits me, grounding me, but my mind is still buzzing. It's hard to shake the feeling that something's changed between us, even if neither of us has said it out loud. Maybe it's the exams, maybe the weight of graduation bearing down on us, or maybe it's just the way things feel between us now.

I don't even know what to call it. But I know I'm waiting for something. For him.

I head inside, drop my bag by the door, and take a few minutes to unwind. I've been running on stress and adrenaline all day, and now that it's over, I feel the exhaustion settle in. I tell myself I'm just going to rest for a bit, but my mind keeps circling back to Brad—his grin, the way he looked at me when he said "See you at the party." It's only a few days away, but somehow, it feels like a lot more than just another get-together.

I grab my phone, half-expecting a message from Tris or James, but there's nothing. For a second, I consider texting Brad, maybe to confirm about the party or just to break the silence. I'm about to put the phone down when it buzzes in my hand.

A Snap from Brad.

"Washing off today's exams..." he writes, a towel wrapped low on his hips, the kind of snap that would make any girl stop and stare —shirtless, hair wet, water droplets glistening on his skin. The lighting is soft, but it does nothing to hide the defined muscles of his chest and abs, and for a moment, my heart skips a beat.

I stare at it for a second longer than I probably should before typing a reply.

'Was that to the boys as well or just me? 😉' I type quickly, trying to keep things light. But even as I hit send, I can feel the weight of the question hanging in the air. There's a strange flutter in my stomach. It's nothing new, really. He's sent me snaps like this before—flirty, teasing, no big deal. But tonight, it feels different. He feels different.

'Just you. Are you complaining?'

I can't help but smile at how confident he sounds. I decide to play along.

'Oh, I didn't say that at all. In fact, you've inspired me to have a shower myself.'

I send over a quick snap of myself under the stream of water, the droplets running down my collarbone, just enough to show off my wet skin. It's not the most revealing thing, but it's enough. I'm aware of the flirtation, the unspoken tension.

A moment later, his reply comes through.

'Good. You were starting to smell.'

He sends another photo. This time it's his abs—perfectly chiseled, just like the rest of him. My stomach flutters at the sight, the butterflies not so much from the body itself but from the fact that it's Brad.

I look at the picture for too long, feeling the heat creep up my neck. I snap a quick selfie in the mirror, wrapping my towel tighter around my body, then send it back to him with the caption,

'That's not very nice.'

I can almost hear him laughing through the screen as he types his next message as this continues back and forth for another hour or so.

The next morning, I wake up feeling strange. The flirtation from last night still lingers in my mind, but now, in the light of day, I start to second-guess myself. What if I went too far? What if Brad's just messing around? What if he thinks I'm just playing games?
When I see his name pop up in a text, I nearly drop my phone.
From: Brad
Starbucks on the way this morning?'
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
To: Brad
Sounds good! See you in 10.
I scramble to get dressed, throwing on a my clothes, my hair in a messy bun and I rush out the door, my mind spinning in circles. The walk to Brad's house feels longer than usual—every step feels heavier, like I'm walking toward something I don't fully understand. When he opens the door, the brief look he gives me—a flicker in his eyes as they take me in—is enough to make my heart race. His gaze lingers for a second too long on my lips before he grins.
"Good morning," he says, his voice deeper than I remember. He steps forward, places a hand on my waist, and pulls me in slightly. It's not too intimate, but I feel the heat of his touch through the fabric of my hoodie. It's a simple gesture, but my pulse spikes."I'm glad you don't smell anymore," he teases, his fingers grazing my abdomen just lightly before he pulls away. I fight back a smile.
"Good to know I was that bad." We get in his car, and the drive to Starbucks is easy—too easy. We don't need to ask what the other wants; he just knows. And when I try to insist that it's my turn to pay, he just flashes me that signature Brad grin and swipes his card.
The silence between us is comfortable but still charged. As we sit in the parking lot, eating our toast, the casualness of it all is suddenly tinged with something else. Something I can't quite place.When I go to throw away our trash, I catch him staring at me. Not at my face. His eyes dip down to my legs, then quickly back up. His lips curl into that crooked smile I've grown to recognize. I feel my heart rate quicken.
"What?" I ask, trying to break the tension, but he just shakes his head.
"N-nothing," he stammers, his eyes flickering to my lips for a second before he clears his throat.
"You just look..." He pauses, looking for the right words.
"Do I have something on my face?" I ask, flipping down the visor to check the mirror.
"Amazing," he says, almost too quickly, like he wasn't planning on saying it out loud. He seems awkward all of a sudden, but I can't help the smile that stretches across my face.
"A compliment? From Brad Simpson?" I tease, raising a hand to his forehead like I'm checking for a fever. "Are you feeling okay?"
His laugh is low, but there's a hesitation to it. He gently removes my hand from his forehead and places it on my lap. His hand lingers just a moment before pulling away. It's a simple gesture, but I feel it. The tension. The change in the air.We drive in silence for the rest of the way. Neither of us speaks, but the unspoken words hang heavy between us.When we park, Brad brushes his hand across the top of my thigh as he stops the car. It's brief but electric. He looks at me like he's about to say something, but then we're interrupted by a loud bang on the side of the car. His friends are laughing, clearly having been watching the entire interaction. I feel the heat rise to my cheeks as I quickly exit the car, trying to hide the flush creeping up my neck.
"I'll see you later then," I say, trying to mask the flutter of nerves in my voice.
"I'll see you at lunch?" Brad calls after me. I nod, my mind still racing.---Now that  the exams are finally over, the tension of the last few weeks has started to lift, and I find myself walking through the halls of school with a lighter step, the weight of assignments and final exams replaced by something... bittersweet. This is it—the last few days of high school. The last few days of seeing my friends, my teachers, and Brad every day in the same familiar places.I thought the relief from finishing exams would feel like a rush of freedom, but it's more like a slow burn, the realization sinking in that nothing is quite the same anymore. We're all about to scatter to different corners of the world—college, work, or whatever comes next. And somehow, amidst the chaos of it all, there's the growing realization that things between Brad and me are... different now. Flirty. Tense. Unspoken.

---

At lunch, I sit next to Brad, trying to act like nothing's changed. But I can feel the weight of his touch on my knee under the table. It's simple, but the way his fingers graze against me makes my heart skip. I try to shake it off.

"Hey," his voice cuts through my thoughts, and I glance at him, meeting his mischievous smile.
"Hey," I reply, a little breathless, trying to ignore the heat in my cheeks. His eyes sparkle with that familiar teasing glint.
"Wanna come over to mine tonight?" he asks casually. "The parents are leaving today instead of tomorrow, so I was thinking we could have one of our movie nights? Mum's got butter chicken in the slow cooker.
"The invitation feels loaded, like there's something he's not saying. I try to keep it casual.
"How could I say no to Anne's cooking?" I smile, but the smile feels different now. He's always had this effect on me, but tonight, it feels like there's more to it. Brad's hand rests lightly on the small of my back, just for a moment, but it's enough to make my breath catch. I feel the weight of his gaze. Maybe I'm not imagining things. Maybe it's not just friendship anymore.

Later, as I talk to Poppy, I can't keep the smile off my face. He invited me over. It's casual, but it feels different. The possibilities feel endless now.
"Well, at least use protection, please. I'm too young to be an aunt," Poppy teases, waggling her eyebrows at me.I nearly choke on my water.
"Oh my god, Poppy! That is not happening." I try to brush it off, but my mind keeps drifting. What if? What if it does happen? What if Brad and I-
"But you wouldn't be against it, would you?" Poppy presses, a teasing smirk on her face.My heart skips a beat. I bite my lip.
"I've thought about it," I admit, my voice quieter than I mean for it to be. "I mean, it's Brad, right? Of course, I've thought about it." But then, I try to talk myself out of it. "But we're not even together."
Poppy raises an eyebrow. "So? Does that mean it's off-limits?"I hesitate, unsure of how to answer.
I bite my lip, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't know. I don't want to mess things up between us. I can't have that what are we conversation with him. I just want to keep things... easy, you know?"
Poppy shrugs. "But you've already crossed that line, right? I mean, you've kissed. You've had that conversation in your heads, whether you've said it or not."
Her words hang in the air, and I can't help but wonder if she's right. Is this just all in my head? Is Brad thinking the same thing, or am I just setting myself up for disappointment again?
I try to change the subject, but Poppy's teasing glance doesn't leave my mind.

When I get home, I head straight for the shower, my head spinning. I stand under the hot water, letting the steam fill the bathroom, trying to clear my head. The water beats against my skin, but it does nothing to ease the tension.
I glance down at the razor on the ledge, its shiny blade reflecting the light. I stare at it for what feels like an eternity. Should I, shouldn't I? I'm not even sure why it's suddenly important. But something inside me tells me to just be ready. Just in case.

What if tonight's the night? What if Brad and I take the next step, and I'm not prepared?

I grip the razor, hesitant at first, but then I decide to go ahead and shave. Just in case. It's not like I'm doing it for anyone else. I'm doing it for me. Because, deep down, I want to be ready for whatever happens. But even as I make the decision, a small voice in my head whispers

But what if it doesn't happen? What if I'm overthinking everything?.

A/n - sorry to leave on a minor cliff hanger. Originally i had this chapter and the next all as one but it was too big so I've split it up :)