The Goodbye Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Series Book 3)

by Christina Benjamin

  Nate polished off the beignets in record time, stretching his long limbs when he was done. “Not bad for a second date,” he said weaving his fingers behind his head.

  “It’s not a date.”

  “If you say so, Cami.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Cami?”

  “I’m trying it out.”

  She hid her smile as she sipped her coffee. Very few people called her Cami. Mostly just her parents and Ronnie. It was a privilege she allowed only those who had a place in her heart. She should’ve stopped Nate right there—should’ve corrected him and told him to call her Camille. But the sudden feverish feeling in her pounding heart told her it was already too late.

  “So, it’s my turn for twenty questions,” Nate announced. His brown eyes sparkled like liquid amber as he tapped his chin thinking. “Let’s go with the same questions Ronnie asked. Parents? Siblings? Crazy exes? Arrested? Knocked up? Gay, straight, other? Weird quirks and talents? And, what’s your biggest fear?”

  Camille let out sigh. “Remind me to kill Ronnie tomorrow.”

  “Come on, it’s fun. We’re getting to know each other. That’s what friends do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I thought we were more than friends,” she teased.

  Nate winked. “Oh, we will be. But first I must learn the wiles of your feminine ways so I may know best how to woo you.”

  “Oh my God. If I play along will you promise to stop talking like that?”

  He smirked. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

  “Fine.” Camille exhaled loudly. “My parents are Raymond and Josephine LaRue. Music teacher and lawyer-slash-health food fanatic. No siblings, unless you count my dog, Poo. No crazy exes. No exes, period. So, definitely never been knocked up. Straight. I like colorful tights and wigs. That’s quirky, I guess. And . . .” she paused, struggling to find the right words to answer his last question.

  Nate’s eyes sparkled, like she was about to spill the secrets of the universe. She wanted to tell him the truth. He had a strange way of pulling it out of her. But Camille wasn’t sure if she even knew her biggest fear. She had a lot of them. Running out of time. Dying with regret. Losing control. Letting the cancer win. But she was afraid to say any of those things out loud. She took a deep breath. “My biggest fear, is fear itself.”

  Nate leaned closer. “I have so many questions. But first . . . do you mean to tell me your dog’s name is Poo LaRue?”

  She laughed, stunned that was the answer Nate chose to focus on. “Yeah.”

  “That’s brilliant!”

  “I think so. Especially when accomplished adults like my parents scold him for biting people.”

  “Poo LaRue is vicious? Even better. Please tell me he’s a Doberman or Rottweiler.”

  “No, he’s a Yorkie who hates everyone but me.”

  Nate grinned. “I must meet him!”

  “I just told you he hates everyone.”

  “Pfft. No one can hate me.”

  She shook her head at Nate’s optimism. But she was starting to think he might actually be right. His charm was hard to resist.

  “So what else?” Nate asked resting his chin in his large hand.

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “Only your deepest darkest secrets.”

  Camille laughed, but she couldn’t stop the nervous butterflies from rioting in her stomach. She knew Nate was joking, but it was nice to have someone want to know her. She shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.” Nate’s brown eyes sparkled with mischief. He cleared his throat and spoke in a news reporter voice. “Miss LaRue, inquiring minds want to know what are your plans for life after graduation?” Nate asked, pointing the coffee cup at her like a microphone.

  Camille swallowed hard. Killing myself . . . But she couldn’t bring herself to say that either. It was too real, and she was having fun in this fantasy world where she got to be normal and flirt with a cute boy. So, instead she said, “Does anyone really know what they want to do with their life?”

  “I do,” Nate replied dropping the reporter voice.

  “And what’s that?”

  “I’m doing it.”

  “What? Eating sugary desserts until you get diabetes?”

  He laughed. “No. Well, not the diabetes part. I mean living. That’s all I really want. To not let any moment pass me by. To take nothing for granted. To grab life by the balls and make the most of it.”

  Camille was silent as Nate’s words resonated. Those were all the things she wanted too. All the things her cancer made her want, but denied her.

  “You okay?” Nate asked, his warm hand suddenly taking hers. “You look pale, or I should say paler, which I didn’t think was possible because I can practically see your veins through your skin.”

  A shiver ripped through her, but it wasn’t from the chill in the spring air. “I’m fine. Just cold,” Cami replied, hoping the lie would cover the depression that suddenly gripped her.

  Nate shrugged out of his NOAH blazer and stood to drape it over Camille’s shoulders. It was still warm and smelled like him—soap and sunshine and possibilities. She snuggled into it.

  “Better?” he asked, smiling down at her, his caramel eyes full of hope.

  Suddenly Camille didn’t feel like playing this game anymore. Even flirting was useless. “Yeah. Thanks. But I should really get home.”

  “I’ll walk you.”

  Nate refilled their coffees for the walk and chatted animatedly the whole way. He was easy to be around, even when she was feeling drained and depressed. Nate’s warmth and excitement was like a giant bubble surrounding him. It was impossible to be near him without some of it seeping in—even if she didn’t want it to.

  “This is me,” Camille said when they arrived outside her house.

  “I know,” Nate replied, grinning. “I was here yesterday, remember?”

  “Right.”

  “Do I get to come in today?”

  Camille gestured to the razor sharp clusters of spikes adorning the pillars and gates around her home. “I don’t think we’d have so many Romeo spikes if I was allowed to invite boys like you inside.”

  Nate cocked his head, taking the spikes in with an appreciative eye. “Those are positively medieval, but they wouldn’t keep me out.”

  “You might be surprised how effective they are.”

  “Oh yeah?” A devilish smile slipped into place. “Are you inviting me to try?”

  “No. I’m just saying they’ve been protecting the virtue of daughters from heartbreakers like you for centuries.”

  Nate played hurt. “You think I’m a heartbreaker?”

  She ignored him and unlocked the gate to her courtyard.

  “You’re really not going to invite me in?”

  “No,” she replied, even though a tiny part of her wasn’t ready to quit their flirty banter.

  Nate brazenly looked her up and down. “Are you a vampire or something?” he asked, his voice low and whispery.

  The question caught her off guard and she sputtered a laugh. “Are you serious?”

  “You’re quiet and pale and you won’t invite me into your home . . .”

  “And that makes me a vampire?”

  Nate shrugged. “I’ve seen a lot of teen movies. And this is New Orleans.”

  “You’re crazy. Besides, everyone knows it’s the humans that have to invite the vampires in.”

  “Spoken like someone who knows an awful lot about vampires.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Maybe I am a vampire.”

  “Or maybe you should think about getting some sun,” Nate said catching her hand and stroking a finger down the blue vein on the back of her pale palm.

  His touch sparked heat in her core. “I’ll take it under consideration,” she replied, quoting him. Camille started to shrug out of his blazer.

  Nate put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Keep it.”

  “It’s your school b
lazer.”

  “I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”

  “We don’t even have any classes together,” she argued.

  “I’ll wait for you at your locker.”

  Camille was out of excuses, and the way Nate was looking at her, all dimples and sunshine made her forget why she was arguing. He was still holding her hand, and with his other, he slowly reached up, tucking a delicate strand of silver hair behind her ear. The warmth of his touch sparked electricity under her skin. His voice was a low whisper, his breath stirring her hair. “You’re a mystery, Miss LaRue.”

  She huffed a nervous laugh. “I’m actually pretty boring.”

  Nate shook his head. “That’s what you want people to think, isn’t it?”

  Camille swallowed hard.

  “Tell me something real, Cami.”

  She could barely hear herself think over the thundering of her heartbeat. She’d never believed in things like soul mates or love at first sight, but Nate was rearranging everything. He made her want things—things she couldn’t have.

  She wanted to reply. To tell him he was the mystery. And he was screwing everything up. She had a plan, and he wasn’t part of it. But she couldn’t find her voice. Not when she was standing a breath away from him. Nate leaned impossibly closer and her mind went blank.

  “You know what I think?” he whispered.

  Camille stared at the cupid’s bow of his lips and shook her head.

  “I think you’re in love with me, Camille LaRue. You just don’t know it yet.” His face curved into his giant smile. “Don’t worry. Some things are worth waiting for.” Then, he kissed the back of her hand and jogged away, leaving Camille standing at her door, completely stunned.

  Nate

  Nate made himself wait before looking back. Tyler used to say if you could count to ten and a girl was still looking after you, then you knew you had her. But time felt like it was standing still as Nate’s long legs ate up the ground, carrying him further down the street from Camille’s Romeo spiked estate.

  10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . .

  Wait ten seconds, Nate. If she’s not still looking, you have to leave her alone.

  7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . .

  People do not fall into the ‘take what you want’ philosophy of your new life.

  4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . .

  But if she’s still looking when you get to . . .

  1 . . .

  Nate turned his head, briefly, and a giant smile slide into place. He was sure the joy in his heart could power the world at that very moment, because Cami was standing right where he’d left her, staring directly at him.

  Game on . . .

  7

  Cami

  Over the next few weeks, walking to Café Beignet after school became Camille and Nate’s routine. And much to the Ashleys’ dismay, so did Camille wearing his blazer. The only way she knew this bothered the Ashleys was because Ashley Dupree asked her about it in first period today.

  “So, are you guys, like together?” Ashley asked.

  Camille had to look around to make sure Ashley was really talking to her. “What?”

  “You and the new boy, Nathan Hawthorne? Are you dating?”

  Camille’s face flushed. “No!”

  “Then why do you wear his blazer to school every morning?”

  Camille wondered what Ashley would say if she knew Camille also slept with it because she loved the way it smelled like Nate. She shook the pathetic thought from her mind. “We walk home together after school sometimes, and I get cold so I borrow it.”

  Ashley’s pretty face wrinkled into a scowl. “Does he live near you or something?”

  “Sorta.”

  Camille didn’t know why she said that. Nate lived in the Bywater, which was nowhere near her house in the French Quarter. But from the envious glare Ashley was giving her, Camille had a feeling that for the first time in Ashley’s privileged life, she was wishing she didn’t live in the rich Garden District she called home.

  Camille should’ve been a big enough person not to care that she had something the Ashleys were jealous of, but she wasn’t. It made her giddy to watch them watching her with Nate. And even though nothing romantic had happened between them since the day he kissed her hand, Camille couldn’t stop thinking about Nate—and wanting more.

  She knew it wasn’t fair. It was too late for her to fall in love. She knew it in her bones. But when Nate leaned close to her or smiled at her, Camille lost sight of everything—even the cancer.

  At lunch, Nate joined Camille in the student lounge. This too had become part of their routine. It seemed strange to her that she’d eaten nearly every meal at NOAH alone until Nate showed up. She could barely remember her lonely lunches lost in a book or a soundtrack. In just a few short weeks, Nate had changed everything.

  Now, she couldn’t imagine not sharing headphones with him, listening to music while he talked animatedly about what kind of songs he wanted to play on his violin, or some new movie or book he was in to. Nate did most of the talking, but Camille thought it was nice to have someone else’s voice rattling around in her head for a change.

  Nate’s other favorite thing to talk about was his brother. Camille couldn’t help thinking his stories were so unbelievable they had to be true. And she loved the way Nate’s face lit up when he talked about Tyler. Yesterday, Nate told her about the time he and Ty had streaked across their football field during a game. Their principal made them clean his bathroom as punishment. So Nate and Ty drew spiders on the toilet paper rolls and then put Pop-Its under the toilet seat. Nate said the principal’s screams were heard throughout the entire school the next day.

  Today, Nate was showing her a picture on his phone from when Tyler stained Nate’s teeth blue for school pictures in ninth grade by mixing food coloring in his toothpaste. Camille snorted her herbal tea down her shirt when she looked at Nate’s blue Cheshire grin. And of course that was the exact moment the Ashleys flounced into the student lounge.

  They were hazing a group of young Antes by making them set up a folding table and drape it with a glittering silver and white tablecloth. By the time they were done decorating, it looked like Harry Winston spilled a diamond wonderland all over the lounge. And of course, the Ashleys decided to make their way over to where Camille and Nate were sitting.

  Ashley Dupree ignored Camille completely, batting her eyes at Nate. “Well hello, handsome. Fancy meetin’ you here.”

  There was nothing fancy about it. If the Ashleys noticed Camille was wearing Nate’s blazer to school, then they certainly knew where he ate lunch every day. Something was up, and it was most certainly of the variety that Camille wasn’t going to like—as were all things that involved the Ashleys.

  “Hey . . . Ashleys,” Nate said greeting them all at once. “What’s up with all the glitz?”

  “I’m so glad you asked, sweetie.” Ashley’s voice was so syrupy it made Camille’s teeth hurt. Who did she think she was fooling? Camille had seen Ashley Dupree make grown men cry with her cutting insults. There was nothing sweet about the girl.

  Ashley invited herself to sit down and continued laying on the charm. “I’m on the prom committee, naturally, and the theme was just announced today, so it’s time to start selling tickets.”

  “Cool. What’s the theme?” Nate asked.

  Ashley looked insulted that he couldn’t tell from the glittery décor, but she smiled anyway. “Why it’s Just Say Yes.”

  Nate’s eyes lit up. “Like the Snow Patrol song?”

  Ashley looked perplexed. “No. More like the philosophy.”

  Nate clapped his hands. “Even better. I’m in.”

  “Fantastic! How many tickets will you be purchasing?” she asked coyly.

  “Two.”

  “Oh. Do you have a date already?” Ashley asked.

  “I will as soon as Cami agrees to go with me,” Nate said turning his radiant smile in Camille’s direction.

  For the first time, Camille felt Ashl
ey Dupree’s eyes shift to her. Pure hatred rippled off her, but her fake smile remained in place. She laughed playfully. “You mustn’t be talking about Camille LaRue?”

  “Why not?” Nate asked.

  “Because I’ve known her since kindergarten. And she doesn’t go to dances. Isn’t that right, Camille?”

  It was exactly right. Camille had never been to a dance. But then again, she’d never been asked. But even the idea of going to prom with Nate wasn’t enough to make her overcome her fear of being judged by her peers on the dance floor. She’d made it nearly eighteen years listening to them whisper about how she didn’t fit in. She didn’t need to go to a dance and have them ruin that for her, too. At least if she never experienced the humiliation of a high school dance, it could still remain sacred in her dreams—where it belonged.

  Camille realized Nate was staring at her.

  His eyes sparkled in that excited way of his when he was cooking up an idea. “Oh, I get it. You’re waiting for one of those epic prom-posals.”

  “No really,” she sputtered. “I—”

  But Nate was already on his feet. “Say no more! I have much to do!” He kissed Camille on the cheek and loped off down the hall, leaving her alone with Ashley Dupree. She was glaring at Camille.

  Ashley lowered her voice so no one else in the lounge could hear her. “You can’t possibly think he actually wants to be your boyfriend.”

  “Why do you care? Don’t you have a boyfriend in college?”

  “And don’t you have cancer?”

  The words hit Camille like a slap to the face. She stood, grabbed the rest of her lunch and stormed off campus.

  Camille never cut class. She always felt guilty about all the school she missed when she wasn’t well enough to attend. The truth was, she was a good student and enjoyed academics. When she was little, she told her father that she wanted to learn everything. She knew now how stupid that was. No one could learn everything—especially someone who wasn’t expected to make it to her eighteenth birthday.