Cami

When Cami came downstairs to find her father and Nate rocking out in his office, she wanted to crawl in a hole. I said distract him, Dad. Not make a best friend and form a rock band.

She cleared her throat, but even that wasn’t enough to break through their jam session. She decided to let Poo do what he did best, make a racket.

“Get ‘em boy,” she whispered and the little dog sprang into action, howling and barking like a crazed Gremlin. It worked like a charm. Both her father and Nate stopped playing and noticed Camille leaning against the French doors.

“Cami!” Nate called. “Sing with us?”

“Um, no way.”

“Oh, come on. Your dad says you sing.”

“Sang,” she corrected. “And it looks like you two are doing just fine without me.”

“You didn’t tell me Nate here was a bona fide rock star,” her father said.

“Yeah, well he should be. Charles Hawthorne is his father.”

“No shit? You’re Charlie Hawthorne’s boy? He’s a great musician. What’s he up to these days?” Ray asked.

“Bartending at Vaughan’s.”

“I didn’t even know he was back in town.”

Nate shrugged. “Has been for almost three years.”

“Where’s he playing?”

“He doesn’t really play anymore.”

Ray’s animated face went slack. “That’s a damn crime! You should bring him over. Seriously, anytime. You both have a standing invitation to jam.”

“Okay, Dad. Nate and I need to be going.”

“We do?” Nate asked, looking surprised.

“Do you want me to take you to Café Du Monde, or not?”

Nate bowed low. “After you, Madame.”

“Let me just go grab my purse,” Camille said “Dad, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure, honey.”

Camille waited until she’d dragged her father out of hearing distance from Nate. “Dad, I said distract him! Not embarrass me.”

“Since when does my music embarrass you?”

“It doesn’t! That’s not the point.”

“What did you want me to do, Cami?”

“I don’t know. Be a southern father and talk about virtue and Romeo spikes or something.”

“Honey, I don’t have any experience in this kind of thing. You’ve never brought a boy over before. You gotta tell me what you want me to do.”

“Just be a dad!”

Her father smiled. “Do you like this boy?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Well you obviously do,” she shot back.

“Yeah, but I’m asking if you like him, Camille.”

“I don’t know. I need to go get my purse. Just don’t adopt him while I’m gone.”

Nate

When Ray returned to the music room, he seemed like he’d morphed into dad mode, asking where they were going and who else would be there.

“Cami’s taking me to Café du Monde. I sort of have this obsession with donuts, so she’s been taking me to all the best places in town. It’s just us going. Although, Ronnie made me promise to bring him a bag of beignets afterwards.”

“Ah, you’ve met Ronnie?” Ray asked.

“Yeah. He’s great. Cami brought me to Sweet Thang’s. I don’t know how she does it. I’d eat myself stupid if I worked around all that sugar.”

Ray laughed. “Yeah me too. But Josie would kill me.”

“Is that Mrs. LaRue?”

“Yes.” Ray smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Cami said she’s a stickler for health food.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Ray replied.

“Ya know, we could smuggle you a bag of beignets if ya want?”

“Nah, you kids go have fun. Just don’t stay out too late.” Ray’s cell phone started buzzing. He glanced down. “Shoot, I gotta take this. Do me a favor, run up and tell Cami to bring a jacket. It’s supposed to rain again today.”

“Sure thing,” Nate replied, but Ray was already briskly walking away.

Nate wasn’t sure where Cami’s room was or if Ray really intended for him to wander around until he found it. But, after sitting alone in the foyer with Poo staring at him unblinkingly, Nate decided to give himself a tour.

“Okay, Poo, wanna show me where Cami’s room is?”

The little dog yipped and hopped around in circles at Nate’s feet.

“Come on, let’s go little guy. Where’s Cami? Where’s Cami?”

Nate followed the dog upstairs and around the iron-railed hallway to Camille’s room. He knew it was hers because the door was cracked open and she was inside changing her top with her back to him. Nate’s eyes zeroed in on her black lacey bra. It was such a stark contrast from her pale skin that he couldn’t look away. He was mesmerized by her beauty. He knew he shouldn’t be staring, but he’d never seen something so beautiful. She was like an elegant black and white photograph—timeless and breathtaking.

Nate was about to clear his throat to announce his presence, but Poo drew Camille’s attention first. She whipped around, clutching her shirt tight to cover her chest.

“Nate! What the hell?”

“Sorry!” He immediately turned around and faced the door. “Your dad sent me up to tell you to bring a jacket ‘cause it’s supposed to rain.”

Nate heard shuffling behind him as Camille grumbled under her breath.

“You can stop staring at the door,” she muttered. “I’m dressed.”

Nate turned, stuffing his hands in his pockets with mild embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Camille cut him off. “Let’s just pretend it never happened, okay?”

“Okay. But I really didn’t see anything, just your bra. I mean the back of your bra, really, and—Hey, sweet wall,” Nate said, suddenly distracted by the colorful mural behind Cami. He moved further into the room, drawn toward the wall that was painted entirely black. It was covered in rows of neat white handwriting. Polaroids were taped next to some of the words with checkmarks next to them.

“Whoa! This is one of those Before I Die walls, right?” Nate asked. “I’ve always wanted to write on one and you have one in your room? How cool is that?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess . . .” Camille replied, still looking uncomfortable.

Nate decided to keep focusing on the wall until the awkward bra-moment passed. “Have you really done all these?”

“Only the ones with checkmarks by them.”

“That’s nearly all of them. Look, you only have Graduation, Beach and Mississippi River left. Wait, have you really never seen the Mississippi? It’s practically in your backyard.”

“I’ve seen the Mississippi. But I put it up there because I want to go swimming in it.”

Nate scrunched up his face. “Isn’t it kinda polluted?”

“Yeah, but it’s a NOLA thing. If you’re born and raised here, ya kinda have to do it.”

“Right . . .” Nate let his eyes study the list, skimming over the items she’d checked off and the photographs accompanying them.

There was a family photo next to the word, Picnic. It was taken on grassy knoll and Camille looked like she was about ten or eleven. She smiled at the camera wide and vibrant. The word, Origami, was next, and a tiny butterfly made out of the page of a book was taped next to the word. Drive in Movie had a picture of Camille’s booted feet propped on a dashboard, with a black and white flick playing on the big screen in the background.

“What movie is that?” Nate asked.

“Casablanca.”

“Hmm, never seen it.”

“Seriously? That’s a crime.”

“That good, huh?”

“It’s pretty much my favorite movie.”

Nate smiled, making a mental note to watch Casablanca immediately. He turned back to the wall. The next word was, Hike, and a photo of Camille’s boots on a dusty trail accompanied it. Then there was, Sprinklers, with a photo of Cami’s bare toes hidden in blades of glistening grass.

Nate stepped back, scanning the list. He wondered at what point Camille had decided to take photos of her feet rather than her face? His eyes fell back to the family picnic photo and he saw what her dad had been talking about. Camille didn’t smile like that anymore. Or at least Nate hadn’t seen it yet. And suddenly, he decided it would be his goal in life to do so.

He sat back on the bed next to Camille, smirking at the list. Bicycle, Bird Watch, Bowling, Bubbles, Build Fort, Dancing in the Rain, Finger Paint, Fireworks, Fishing, Fly Kites, Handprint Art, Jump Rope, Magic Show, Mini Golf, Pillow Fight . . .

“Your Before I Die wall is in alphabetical order?”

“So?”

“Living on the edge, huh?”

Camille only picked at the navy blue paint on her fingernails.

“What happens when you want to add a new thing to the list?”

“I don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, these are all the things I want to do. I don’t need to add anymore.”

“What? That’s crazy talk. I can think of like a million more things to add.”

“I don’t need to do a million things before I die, just the ones that are important to me.”

“Well, then I can think of one really important thing that’s missing.”

“What?”

Before Camille could stop him, Nate was at the wall scribbling his name between Mini Golf and Pillow Fight.”

“Stop it!” Camille leapt to her feet and grabbed the chalk from him.

“There,” Nate said. “That’s what you were missing.”

“Is everything a joke to you?”

“No.” He could tell from her pinched expression and watery eyes he’d hit a nerve. “Cami, what’s wrong?”

“It’s not funny, Nate. You can’t just show up and insert yourself into someone else’s life. It’s not okay.”

“I wasn’t trying to insert myself. I just like hanging out with you.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“But I want to.”

Cami

Camille sat down on her bed. She knew this was the moment she’d been waiting for. Nate said he wanted to know her. It was the perfect opportunity to tell him about the cancer, because it was pretty much her identity. Camille LaRue—cancer girl.

Poo jumped up on the bed and crawled into her lap. Camille knited her fingers through his silky tan and black fur. Nate sat beside her and before she could get enough courage to get the words out, he took her hand. And surprisingly, Poo didn’t bite him.

“What do you think about starting today over?” he asked.

She laughed. “Too bad it’s not possible.”

“Sure it is. Give me your phone.”

Camille gave Nate a weary look.

“Come on, play along.”

“Fine,” she muttered standing up to fetch her phone from her desk.

When she came back, Poo was sprawled across Nate’s lap. The sight stopped Cami in her tracks. Poo hated everyone. Especially strangers. A chill ran through her as she remembered a conversation she’d had with Ronnie ages ago.

Camille had laughed it off. But now, as she watched Poo roll over in Nate’s lap, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—it was another sign that Ronnie was right.

She handed Nate her phone, still in a bit of a trance from Poo’s behavior. Nate didn’t seem to notice as he tapped out both sides of a text conversation on their phones.

Nate handed her phone back, grinning from ear-to-ear. “See how easy that was?”

Camille sighed, wishing it really could be that simple. She was about to protest, but Nate was already on his feet, and out the door. She watched his head disappear down the stairs, with Poo hot on his heels. A moment later she heard the front door shut. She peered over the railing to see Poo scratching at the door woefully. Traitor.

Camille glanced at her phone. It was 11:10. Any second the doorbell would ring, and she’d be greeted with Nate’s brilliant smile. She felt her resolve begin to crumble. She didn’t want to be the one to wipe that smile from his face. But she knew telling him about her cancer surely would. Honestly, she was surprised he hadn’t figured it out by now. He’d been in her room, which displayed a Before I Die wall, and a shrine of wigs. As far as she knew, these weren’t normal fixtures in a teenager’s bedroom. And if Nate had really seen her in her bra, he must have noticed her scars. She’d had dozens of surgeries over the course of her treatment. Tiny scars crisscrossed her body like a roadmap of suffering.

Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with Nate. Poo liked him, which wasn’t normal. And from his ceaseless smile, it was obvious he saw the world through some intense rose-colored glasses. Perhaps losing his brother had distorted his reality—because who in their right mind could possible want Cami?

Ding-Dong. The doorbell pulled Camille from her dark musings. She jammed her camera in her purse and grabbed a jacket before rushing downstairs. Her father poked his head out of his office, still on a phone call.

“It’s just Nate. I’ll see ya later, Dad.”

Her father looked puzzled, but nodded and ducked back into his office. Camille lured her traitorous dog into the kitchen with a treat and scurried back to the front door before Poo could follow. She opened the door and found herself stunned by Nate’s smile. It was brighter than the sun.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said offering her his elbow. “Shall we?”

Camille was finding it was nearly impossible to say no to Nate. And on a day as sunny and warm as this, she decided to stop trying.