“I know it means a lot to Camille to have you around. I can see you’re good for her. You make her smile and open her heart in a way I didn’t think I’d see again. I want to thank you for that.”
Nate didn’t know what to say, so he nodded and kept his mouth shut.
“Josie and I spoke to your father tonight and before we put it to Camille we wanted to ask you how you would feel about staying in the guest house for these next few . . .” Ray trailed off fighting to find the right words to say. “Well, for however much time we have left with Camille.”
Nate’s heart leapt. “Really? I mean I don’t want to be in your way.”
“You make Camille happy, Nate. That’s all any parent ever wants.”
Nate couldn’t believe this was happening. Maybe birthday wishes did come true. All he wanted was more time with Camille and this would certainly give him that. He wouldn’t have to ride the bus or streetcar back and forth anymore. He could be with Camille everyday.
“So what do you think?” Ray asked.
Nate didn’t have words and he was afraid if he opened his mouth he might cry. Instead, he stood up, walked across the room and hugged the man.
Nate woke up a bit disoriented. Ray had helped him settle into the guest house last night, saying it was too late to send him home and he might as well get used to his new accommodations.
The high from the news that Nate would be spending everyday with Camille gave him the courage to ask Ray for permission to move forward with his secret plan for Camille. And to Nate’s surprise, Ray was pretty agreeable, saying he’d talk to Josie but didn’t see a problem with what Nate proposed. Now all that was left was to get Cami to agree to it.
35
Cami
A few months ago, Camille would’ve rather have stabbed her eyes out than sit at her lunch table chatting about prom with two of the three Ashleys. But strangely that’s exactly what she was doing. And even more surprising—she didn’t hate it.
Apparently Nate asked the Ashleys to help with the big surprise he was planning, which she now knew was for prom night. And knowing the Ashleys were involved in the scheme scared her.
Ashley Banks and Ashley Calhoune had switched over to Team Cami, which sort of freaked Camille out because she didn’t even know there were teams. But Ashley Dupree was still being her normal bitchy self, which Camille actually appreciated. The world just wouldn’t seem right if Ashley Dupree decided to be nice, too.
“So,” Camille asked. “Are you guys gonna give me any hints?”
“Absolutely not,” Ashley Banks replied.
“It’s so worth being surprised,” Ashley Calhoune added. “I wish my boyfriend was as sweet as Nate.”
Camille laughed, “Yeah, I did sorta win the boyfriend lottery, huh?”
“Yeah. What’s your secret?” Ashley Banks asked.
Camille shrugged. “Cancer?”
Both Ashleys paled, their eyes as big as saucers.
Camille winced, forgetting they weren’t used to her sarcastic wit. “Kidding.”
“Oh, right.” Both Ashleys laughed nervously.
And this was why Camille shouldn’t be left alone with normal people. It was like she’d been raised in the wild and needed Nate to translate for her. Where the hell was Nate, anyway?
They always ate lunch together, but as Camille glanced around the lounge, she didn’t spot Nate’s lanky frame anywhere. “You wouldn’t happen to know where my amazing boyfriend is right now, would you?” she asked.
The blonde girls giggled sharing conspiratorial glances.
“We might,” Ashley Banks said, “But you’re not getting it out of us.”
Camille sighed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
Ashley Banks nudged her. “Prom is tomorrow, Cami. And I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”
A strange bubble of excitement took hold of Camille and she realized she hoped they were right.
Nate
Nate met Cami after her last class, walking her to her car. He’d become her chauffer since she left the hospital. The doctors advised she shouldn’t drive in case she had any more heart issues. And Nate certainly didn’t mind driving her badass Range Rover around.
“So where were you at lunch today?” she asked.
“Working on some last minute details for the plan.”
Cami smirked. “I have to say, you’ve certainly built up ‘the plan’,” she said using air quotes. “Hope it holds up, Hawthorne.”
Nate raised his eyebrows. He loved when Cami called him by his last name. It meant she was feeling feisty, which was always a sign that her strength was up. He’d been hoping her good health streak would hold out until prom.
“Don’t worry, LaRue. I’m gonna blow your mind.”
She giggled. “I don’t know, I have pretty high standards.”
He playfully looked around. “Have you seen my girlfriend? About yay high.” He exaggerated her shortness by a good foot. “No morals, low standards, but really great ass?”
Cami jabbed him in the ribs. “Oh my God, is the plan about sex?”
Nate’s face flushed red and he turned away getting into the Range Rover.
She continued to badger him when she got in the car. “It totally is, isn’t it?”
“Camille, not everything is about sex,” he teased. “You’ll find out the plan tomorrow. Just promise me you’ll go along with it.”
“How can I promise when I have no idea what you’re plotting?”
“It’s about prom.”
“Okaaay,” she drawled. “I agreed to go with you and let the Ashleys pick out my dress, which I still haven’t seen, by the way. What else do you want me to agree to?”
“Just say yes,” Nate crooned, repeating the prom theme.
She rolled her eyes. “Worst theme ever.”
Nate smiled. “We’ll see.”
Nate pulled up in front of Camille’s house instead of into the courtyard as usual.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Dropping you off.”
“You’re not coming in?”
“Not tonight. I have some last minute things to prepare.” He ran his fingers through her short hair and kissed her until his heart physically hurt. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay?” he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers.
“I’m not gonna see you until tomorrow?”
“It’s only one night.”
“Nate . . .” her voice was desperate. The quiet plea in it saying everything they both knew—one night could be all she had left.
Cami
Camille was cranky when she got home. She couldn’t believe she wasn’t going to get to spend the night with Nate. They hadn’t been apart since her birthday. He’d moved into the guest house, but Camille was convinced it was basically just a way for their parents to feel like they weren’t doing something taboo by letting their teenaged kids sleep together every night. It’s not like there was a handbook for how to parent your terminal daughter and her heartbroken boyfriend. Not that Camille and Nate were doing anything wrong. He was respectful beyond reason, refusing to do anything more than sleep next to her—no matter how much she wanted more.
She stomped up the stairs, missing Nate already. He usually carried her upstairs, like saving her the trip would somehow prolong their time together. She always protested, but now that he wasn’t there to do it, she had to admit how much she loved the way he spoiled her.
She’d been realizing a lot of new things about herself lately. For one, she actually enjoyed talking to some of the kids at NOAH once she gave them a chance. And it was strangely nice to have girls to talk to. The Ashleys, minus Ashley Dupree, were kind of fun. It was interesting to listen to them talk about their boyfriends, prom, and plans for after graduation. Camille never would’ve imagined in a million years that they were just as insecure as she was about things.
Camille had always looked at the Ashleys from the outside, thinking they had it all. And to some extent, they did. They
were going to graduate and go on to college and hopefully get to live long, healthy lives. But beyond that, they were just girls, with as many worries as Camille.
At some point, during all these realizations, something had changed in Camille. Thanks to Nate, she’d woken up and decided to make the most of the time she had left. And now that it was ticking down, she had perhaps the biggest revelation of all—she wanted more.
Camille wanted more everything. More Nate. More friends. More items on her bucket list. More time. Just more . . .
Every time she thought about it, her chest hurt, sending her into mini panic attacks thinking she was having another coronary spasm. She sat down at her desk and rubbed tight circles over her chest to ease the tension. She knew from the moment she met Nate that this would happen. Perhaps that’s why she’d resisted so long. She’d known all along that smile of his—full of blinding sunshine and possibilities—would make her want the whole damn world.
Camille sat at her desk for a while, quietly staring at the unchecked boxes on her wall. Nate had moved her desk weeks ago when she told him about the goals she’d hidden behind it. Now, Kiss, Love, Prom and Paris were clearly visible, along with Beach and Graduation. Nate had teased her relentlessly about the Kiss and Love portion on the wall, doodling hearts and kisses all around it and carving C. L. + N. H. on every surface possible. Secretly, she loved that he did that.
Nate brought complete chaos to Camille’s orderly life and now she wondered how she’d ever lived without him. She laughed to herself. Perhaps that was the real problem. Camille hadn’t really been living. But Nate made her want to. For the first time in over a year, Camille felt strength burn deep in her bones. It rumbled in her ears, whispering the same word with each beat of her tired heart. Fight. Fight. Fight.
Camille flipped open her day planner to the back pages. There was only one week of school left. She wrote the number seven under her Days ‘til Freedom heading. Suddenly, she felt sick. She didn’t want freedom, not when to her it had always meant ending her life.
Before, her life had been an endless treadmill of torture. Doctor appointments, trial treatments, medication after medication. No wonder she’d been ready to give up. But now, when she looked at the number seven, panic sliced through her. It was such a small number. She wasn’t ready for it to be over.
Camille looked back at her calendar and the fathomless empty dates after graduation. She hadn’t penciled anything in. She hadn’t planned to be around then. Her fingers trembled as she picked up a pen and drew a shaky question mark on the next Sunday. It was the day after graduation. And Camille unexpectedly had an overwhelming urge to see that day, and the next, and the next. She wondered with cautious hope if maybe there was still time to turn things around. She picked up her phone and dialed the number to her oncologist.
The receptionist picked up. “Hello? Hello?”
Camille almost lost her nerve. But the word hello changed her mind. It had been the first thing Nate ever said to her. And that one little word had changed Camille’s world. She took a deep breath, hoping it could do the same thing twice.
“Hi, this is Camille LaRue. I was wondering if I could talk about my treatment options?”
After her conversation with her doctor, a strange feeling of hopefulness washed over Camille. She penciled in the words Oncologist 2:15 pm on the following Wednesday. It was a full four days after graduation. Her heart was pounding with excitement. Maybe she could find more time after all?
Camille opened her desk drawer and pulled out her stationary set. She hadn’t used it in years. She’d never had anyone to write to before now. The pale gray paper had her initials monogrammed at the top in a flourishing lavender font. Cami put pen to paper and started to write.
She’d always been cautious and orderly, and though hope had taken hold of her, she didn’t want to leave anything to chance. She’d been saving this task as long as she could. And even though she’d changed her mind about her future, she still knew her expiration date would be here before she was ready.
She clicked the top of her silver pen and started to write. Dear Nate . . .
36
Cami
Camille awoke to a knock at her bedroom door.
Her mother poked her head in. “Are you awake, honey?”
“Yeah, mom. I’m up.”
“Good. I made your favorite breakfast.”
“Banana pancakes?”
“With whipped cream and pecans.”
“Thanks Mom! You’re the best,” Camille said trying to hug her around Poo’s growls.
Her mother hugged her tightly for a moment before walking toward the door. “Oh, and there’s a delivery waiting for you downstairs.”
Camille rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “A delivery? What is it?”
Her mother gave an unconvincing shrug. “Why don’t you come see?”
Camille brushed her teeth, pulled her purple bathrobe on and was down the stairs in record time. Waiting on the buffet was a giant white box with the words, Jenny Packham PARIS, printed in silver on top.
Goose bumps rushed down Camille’s arms. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
Jenny Packham was her favorite Paris designer. Once, Camille had found a gorgeous Jenny Packham headband at a vintage boutique on Royal called Bambi DeVille. She’d worn it so much that a few of the beautifully cut crystals were now missing and she’d had to retire it.
Camille’s fingers were trembling as she lifted the edge of the hinged box. A single white notecard lay atop a mass of white tissue paper. She opened the card carefully, her heart thumping when she recognized Nate’s scribbly handwriting.
Camille,
You deserve the world.
Let’s start with Paris.
X – Nate
Camille folded back the tissue paper and was greeted with a sea of sequins, beading and tulle. She gasped, carefully lifting out the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen. It had a full-length tulle skirt the color of the midnight sky and a sheer V-neck top that glittered like the stars. A rich, inky velvet sash rested at the drop waist and Camille thought she was going to cry. She’d never dreamed she’d own a Jenny Packham dress, yet somehow Nate had dreamed it for her, and then made it come true.
Ronnie’s words echoed in her memory. “Sugar, that boy is the one. He’s gonna give you the sky and all the stars in it.” Camille hugged the dress to her and closed her eyes. Suddenly, she wanted everything Ronnie had ever told her to be true. Because if she believed anything, it was that she and Nate belonged together, and she never wanted to let him go.
Camille heard the click of a camera and opened her eyes. Her parents were standing in the hall beaming at her.
“How?” Camille asked holding up the dress.
Her mother smiled, shaking her head. “I’ve gotta hand it to him. That boy has great taste.”
“But how did he know I love Jenny Packham?” Cami asked.
“You didn’t tell him?” her father asked.
Camille shook her head.
Her parents looked at each other, smiling. “Dumb luck, I suppose,” her father mused.
Camille’s mother, swatted at him. “Like you’ve ever believed in that.”
Camille’s father was almost as superstitious as Ronnie. But if neither of her parents told Nate of her designer crush, how could he have known?
She was still running the question over in her mind when her mother handed her another envelope. Camille gave her parents a questioning look but they only smiled, and then her father snapped another photo.
Camille glared at him.
“What? I told Nate I’d document this for him.”
“Where is he?” she asked.
“Read your note,” her mother prompted.
Camille pulled out the notecard and read Nate’s message.
Camille,
Everything you need is waiting in your room.
I’ll pick you up soon. Be ready.
X – Nate
Cami
lle walked upstairs in a daze after woofing down her breakfast. She was still wondering what in the world Nate meant by, everything was waiting in her room? It hadn’t looked any different when she’d woken up. She gripped the dress box tighter, feeling like she needed to pinch herself. She wanted to call Nate. She didn’t know what he was up to, but it seemed his stay of grand gestures was over.
As Camille walked down the hall she heard the sounds of muffled giggles coming from her room. What the hell?
She opened the door to see Ashley Banks laying an assortment of accessories across her bed, while Ashley Calhoune unfolded an army of makeup brushes on her desk. They saw her and immediately rushed toward her in a flurry of squeals, demanding to see the dress.
“You knew about this?” Camille asked in surprise.
“Of course!” Ashley B. replied.
Ashley C. grinned. “Who did you think directed him to Jenny Packham?”
“She truly is a goddess,” Ashley B. added.
Camille unboxed the dress and held it up, making both Ashleys swoon.
Ashley C. sighed. “You’re going to look like a queen in that dress.”
“How did you know I love this designer?” Camille asked, still flabbergasted.
Ashley Banks snorted. “Oh please. You wore that Jenny Packham headband until it fell apart. Anyone with an eye for fashion knew it was something special.”
“I was so envious every time you wore it, so I looked it up,” Ashley C. admitted. “That’s when my Jenny Packham love affair began.”
“So you guys picked out this dress?” Camille asked.
“Oh no, this was all Nathan. We just told him he couldn’t go wrong if he got something from the designer you love.”
Ashley C. ran her finger over the delicate fabric. “God you are so lucky, Camille. I can’t believe your boyfriend ordered you a couture dress from Paris.”
Camille’s mouth dropped open. “It’s couture?”
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