“Why?”
“Because I love you. And I’m nothing without you. Please, Sam. You’re all I have left. And I have to believe that you still love me too.”
She sniffled but didn’t object.
Devon got slowly to his feet and cupped her face. “Sam,” he whispered. “Tell me I'm wrong and I'll let you go. It’ll kill me. But if it’s what you truly want, I’ll let you go.”
“You're not wrong,” she whispered.
Devon’s heart soared. She was still here, his Sam, the one that loved him back was still holding on.
“I do love you. But it’s not enough. It’s not a reason to stay.”
“Yes it is. There’s no better reason. I’ve found the person I love. She's standing right in front of me. And I can’t let her go. Not now, not ever. If you leave, I’ll follow you. Just say the word, Sam. Just tell me this is what you want too and I’ll come with you. Anywhere you want to go. All I want is to be with you.”
“Devon . . .” Her lip quivered as her watery blue-green eyes gazed up at him. His heart was pounding in his chest. He’d never felt more alive or more terrified. He was so close. He could feel Sam reaching for him. But something was holding her back. He pulled her closer with trembling hands, bending his forehead to meet hers. He breathed in her scent and shivered. “Sam.” He murmured her name like a prayer. “You told me once that almost isn’t enough. And you were right. So here I am, Sam. I’m all in. Now it’s up to you.”
Sam
Sam’s heart was pounding. This was it. They were back at the tent, back before the phone rang, back with their futures wide open ahead of them. Devon loved her. He truly did. What else could she want? He was willing to follow her back to Boston. She could have it all. She only had to stop being afraid to want it. But that meant opening her heart up to be hurt again. And it was still in tatters. Her heart was still in the ICU. Could she really ask it to take on more so soon. As if in response, her heart pumped faster. It was strong enough. She was strong enough.
Sam reached her hands up, twisting them around Devon’s neck. She was staring at him. His expression was so open she could see their whole future in his eyes.
“Devon, I love you. I love you so much it hurts,” she whispered.
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
“So, does this mean . . . are you in this with me?”
“I don’t know how to get out.” She grinned lopsidedly. “So yeah, I’m all in.”
Devon
Devon wrapped his arms around Sam and sighed into her toffee-colored hair. “Oh thank Christ!”
Sam giggled as Devon pulled her off her feet, holding her tighter than he thought possible, peppering her with kisses. Her feet were barely back on the ground when his lips found hers. Devon kissed Sam like she was air and his lungs had been starved for oxygen. He kissed her like his life depended on it, and maybe it did. Because for the first time since his father died, Devon felt like someone had opened that window in his chest again, flooding him with light and air and warmth—flooding him with love.
A burst of applause from onlookers broke their lips apart momentarily. Sam blushed, but didn’t let go of Devon. She gazed up at him, eyes shining. “Thank you for not giving up, Devon.” Then she added more softly. “I was just scared I wasn’t enough.”
Devon pulled her closer. “You were always enough, Sam. You’re more than enough. You’re everything.”
Epilogue
“Oh come on!” Megan begged. “You guys owe me.”
She was bouncing up and down on Sam’s bed as she and Devon poured over Boston University’s sophomore course catalog.
“We owe you?” Devon asked, winding his arms around Sam, who was sitting in his lap. “How’s that?”
“Because, when the three of us rented this apartment it was all, This is gonna be fun, Meg. We’re gonna have amazing adventures, Meg. It’ll be like the three amigos, Meg.”
“Have we not been amigos?” Sam asked pretending to be hurt.
“You two have! You spend like every waking second together. I hate being the third wheel. We need to go out and do stuff so I can meet someone.”
“We do stuff,” Devon said.
“Yeah watch movies!” Megan retorted.
“You’re a film major!” Sam laughed. “You’re the one who drags us to the movies.”
“Yeah but you promised me adventures.” Megan pouted as she pulled the course catalog away from Sam and Devon and started flipping through it.
“We’ve gone on adventures,” Devon argued, trying to hide his smirk. “We’ve done all the cool Massachusetts stuff.”
“Ew, we did all the tourist stuff that I did on fifth grade field trips. I want four-leafed clovers, and fiddles and magic. I want real adventure!” Megan said, shoving the course catalog back under their noses. She’d folded the page back to the study abroad section and circled the Ireland exchange program in pink highlighter. “Please?” she squeaked bouncing even faster.
Devon and Sam glanced slyly at each other, trying not to give away their secret just yet. They’d already signed up for the program the minute they saw it while registering as freshmen. They signed Megan up too without her knowing. It was a hard program to get into and you had to sign up a year in advance. They’d been put on the waiting list until two weeks ago when Sam got an email saying the three of them had been accepted. Apparently, thanks to Zander. He pulled some strings and said that he needed three interns to help him at Cor-Tec, which he was running fulltime. Zander had even fabricated some film documentary nonsense so that Megan would have a reason for interning at an international software company. It was clearly obvious that he had a crush on Megan. Zander was always making up excuses to Skype with Devon and then asking if Megan was around. It was adorable.
Now Devon and Sam were just toying with Megan. They loved her to death, but it was kinda fun to watch her squirm a bit.
“I don’t know?” Sam started. “I’m not sure I want to go back to Ireland.”
“Yeah, me either,” Devon replied.
“But I’d give anything to go to Ireland,” Megan whined.
Sam and Devon grinned at each other. Sam would give anything to go back there too . . . well almost anything, she thought as she laced her fingers with Devon’s.
“We’re in!” they said in unison.
Want to go on your very own Almost Boyfriend study abroad?
Here’s a list of the places in the book that you can actually visit.
Finnegan’s of Dalkey – Dalkey, Ireland
Brown Thomas Department Store – Dublin, Ireland
The Garage – Dublin, Ireland
Ha’penny Bridge – Dublin, Ireland
To my readers,
I want to personally thank you for taking the time to seek out this great little indie book. Writing is truly my passion. I believe each of us can find a small part of ourselves in every book we read, and carry it with us, shaping our world, our adventures and our dreams.
Following my dream to write frees my soul but knowing others find joy in my writing is indescribable. So thank you for your support and I hope your enjoyed your brief escape into the magic of these pages.
If you enjoyed this story, don’t worry, there’s plenty more currently rattling around in my rambunctious imagination. Let me and others know your thoughts by sharing a review of this book. Reviews help shape my next writing projects. So if you want more books like this one be sure to shout it from the rooftops (or social media.) ;-)
- Christina Benjamin
PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW HERE
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank everyone who made this book possible. To my husband, whose unyielding belief and encouragement forces me to pour my best self onto each and every page. To Molly, Megan, and Terese, three of the most amazing women I know, who take time out of their lives to let me blab endlessly about my books while they help make them shine. You’ll always be Irish in my eyes, and I’m blessed to cal
l you friends. Thank you for letting me bribe you with s’mores and beer. To Vince for literally sitting by my side during every word, edit and rewrite. You are the stinky heartbeat at my feet and I wouldn’t trade you for the world. To my Nana, for blessing me with my stubbornness and wit inherent in all strong Irish women. To Ireland, for being such a charming country, full of more magic than I can ever squeeze into a book. To my parents for teaching me that love conquers all. And to everyone who still believes in it. And to all of you who are taking the time to read this to the very end.
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2017 by Christina Benjamin
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crown Atlantic Publishing
Version 1.1
September 2017
To those who put one foot in front of the other, even when it seems impossible.
Prologue
Camille’s Plan for Dying
#1: Cross all items off bucket list.
#2: Graduate high school.
#3: Say Goodbye.
Camille LaRue had her senior year perfectly planned.
And plans are great. They really are. But mostly only when they work out.
Too bad they almost never do. And it was definitely too bad that Nathan Hawthorne didn’t know about Camille’s plans, because he was about to throw a giant wrench into the heart of them.
1
Cami
Camille LaRue glanced up at the clock in her last period class. She exhaled with relief. Five minutes left. She drew a dramatic X through the date in her day planner. Three more months of school remained. Or sixty-six actual school days if you wanted to be technical. And Camille did. She was a habitual planner. Ticking boxes and keeping track of her self-inflicted countdown was soothing to her. She liked to know the exact amount of time she had left, so she could make the most of it.
Camille had a lot to accomplish and not a whole lot of time. She flipped to the back of her planner and glanced at her bucket list with determination—only a few items remained unchecked. That was a good thing since there were only a few months of high school left to pull them off.
She closed her eyes, fighting exhaustion. Today was not a good day. You’ve got this, Cami. One foot in front of the other. She mentally repeated her mantra while drumming her fingers impatiently on her desk, waiting for the bell to ring. School was the last place she wanted to be. It was a complete waste of her time—literally.
Only sixty-six days of her senior year of high school remained. And that miniscule number was her driving force.
Nate
Skateboard tucked under his arm, Nathan Hawthorne meandered through the bright hallways of his new high school trying to keep his awe contained. But it was nearly impossible not to gawk at the rich accommodations. The posh New Orleans prep school was a stark difference from his old California public school. He couldn’t believe he’d actually convinced his mom to let him come to New Orleans Academy. It had to be costing her a fortune in tuition.
Nate let out a low whistle while admiring the expansive view of campus from the floor-to-ceiling gothic windows in the student lounge. A student lounge for God’s sake! His old school in Cali didn’t even have a real gym, only a glorified rec room that doubled as the cafeteria. Therefore the makeshift gym always smelled like tater tots and the cafeteria smelled like sweat. Neither combination was something Nate particularly cared to remember about his old school, but it sort of stuck with him anyway.
But this place . . . well, Nate was pretty sure he was gonna like it here. There was a freaking Starbucks on campus! What was not to like?
It was unreal to Nate that people lived like this. It’s not that he was poor by any means—his mom was a doctor. But she had a thing about living large, always telling Nate that honesty and modesty would serve him better than anything else in life. And he’d agreed with her. But he was starting to wonder if maybe his mom hadn’t ever seen NOLA Academy.
The elite prep school looked more like a castle than a school. Nate’s mom must’ve been feeling pretty guilty about ditching him his senior year to send him to a place like this. He didn’t blame her for uprooting their life. She’d gotten an incredible job offer with a medical program in London. Nate was happy for her. He knew the past few years hadn’t been easy on her. It was time for her to take her life back. It was time Nate did, too.
He pulled out the class schedule he’d just picked up from the Dean’s Office. Technically, Nate didn’t start classes until tomorrow, but he wanted to get the lay of the land. This was the first school he’d ever attended where a map was necessary for getting around. And he didn’t want to look like the idiot, new guy showing up late for class because he’d gotten lost.
Nate studied the map, figuring he’d pick up his uniform and do a dry run of his schedule while he was on campus. He still couldn’t quite believe he was in New Orleans. He’d begged his mom to let him come visit ever since his dad had moved back, but her answer was always the same. “Your dad doesn’t understand adult supervision. He only speaks booze, music and women.”
To Nate, it didn’t seem like such a bad language to speak. But then again, he was a hormone-crazed eighteen-year-old boy who played the violin and hadn’t been known to turn down a beer when it was offered. He could see his mom’s point though. Nate’s dad hadn’t been the best role model lately. Then again, Nate’s mom had a pretty jaded opinion of his dad after their divorce.
Nate tried to remain neutral during the whole thing. He loved both his parents, and didn’t see the point in picking sides. Now that he was technically an adult, he really just needed a place to crash while he finished up his last semester of high school. He could’ve stayed in Cali. He had plenty of great friends out there who offered to let him stay. But Nate planned to go to Tulane in the fall, and was eager to get a jump on his future. God knew he was ready for it.
Nate was ready for a change of scenery. He’d only been to New Orleans a few times. But the city stayed with him. The brief time Nate had spent in the resilient city always left him hopeful. And now that he was back, he clung to the notion that New Orleans would help him move on. And NOLA Academy seemed like a pretty great place to start.
Nate stepped into the pool of sunlight bathing the student lounge. He let the warmth seep in, recharging him. He sighed with relief. It was already easier to breathe without being surrounded by the suffocating sadness of his past. Nate exhaled and repeated his mantra to himself—life is good.
He was in a beautiful city, at a great school, with his whole life ahead of him. He was good at focusing on the positive, and as he looked around at the sea of faces spilling out of the classrooms as the bell rang, he saw a lot to be optimistic about. But maybe nothing as much as the girl with the purple hair and studded combat boots who caught his eye.
She poured out of classroom 214 like a rainbow. She wore a scowl on her pretty porcelain face and a shiny black backpack. Time slowed when she walked past Nate through a sliver of sunlight. The light illuminated her features, making her eyes glow pale gray. They were the exact color of the Pacific Ocean at dawn, and Nate felt homesick when he looked into them. His heart filled like helium, spreading heat through his body. And all he knew, was that he had to know her.
2
Cami
Camille was rummaging through her locker when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see a boy with caramel eyes and floppy brown hair smiling at her like a serial killer. She didn’t recognize him. But
that didn’t mean anything. Her high school was large, and she purposely avoided her classmates like the plague.
Camille enjoyed anonymity when she could get it. Her mother was always saying, it wasn’t very N’awlins of her, but Camille didn’t care. Being diagnosed with lymphoma as a nine year old didn’t give her the warm and fuzzies when it came to being gawked at by strangers.
Ever since her diagnosis, Camille’s childhood had consisted of pity friendships and sorrow-filled stares. She hated being the cancer-girl. It made her different. And that’s the last thing any adolescent girl wanted to be.
No one was ever real with Camille. Adults handled her with kid gloves and peers made her feel like an outcast. It made her distrustful, and rightfully so. Her faith in her fellow classmates ended at a fifth grade sleepover when Ashley Dupree pulled Camille’s wig off while she slept, dubbing her, Sleeping Baldy.
That stupid nickname stuck until eighth grade, when her classmates finally developed a conscience and started to understand what cancer truly meant. The pity was almost worse than the name-calling. All of it forced Camille to build an impenetrable layer of unfuckwithability around her pale skin. Camille was Teflon. Everything the world threw at her just slid off—well, everything except the fucking cancer.
Camille had been silently staring at the boy near her locker for almost a minute now. She was giving him her best resting bitch face. She’d perfected it over the years and was used to it scaring people off. But the strange boy just stood there, grinning like a fool. Camille tilted her head, taking in his alarming smile. He was cute. Really cute, actually. But he didn’t have the usual hot guy smile she was used to—the one that was sly and crooked. The one that said, ‘I want something from you.’ That was the smile Camille was used to seeing in the halls at NOAH. But this boy’s smile was full on dazzling. It was like he was trying to show you all his teeth at once. It was kind of offensive, but also kind of beautiful.
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