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 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 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?”

Both Ashleys looked at her like she’d said something foul. “Dresses like this are not off the rack, Camille.”

Camille traced a finger over the plunging neckline. How did Nate afford something like this?

“Come on,” Ashley B. urged. “We gotta get you ready for the ball, Cinderella.”

“What?”

“Nate sent us to help you get ready,” Ashley C. replied, going back to her legion of makeup.

“That’s right.” Ashley B. was beaming. “We’re your fairy godmothers for the next two hours. Then we have to go get ready ourselves.”

“You guys that’s really sweet, but I can get ready myself. I don’t wanna make you late for prom.”

Ashley B. smiled. “Nate said you’d say that, but he sent us to make sure you’re ready in time.”

“Yeah. He said you’re always late,” added Ashley C.

Camille gasped. “Whatever. It’s not my fault. I blame the cancer.”

The girls laughed. “He said you’d say that, too.”

Ashley C. wielded a makeup brush like a sword. “We’re on to you, Camille. So quit resisting. This is all part of the plan.”

Camille’s heart skipped. The plan. She’d wanted to know what Nate’s big secret plan was for weeks. But now that it was here, she wasn’t sure she could handle it. She already loved him so much that sometimes it was hard to breathe when she thought about it. And when Nate did things like this, things that showed he truly knew her, it made her feel so inadequate. She didn’t deserve him, not when she only had so little of herself left to give.

The overwhelming ache of Camille’s love for Nate pressed against the back of her throat. She swallowed hard, giving in to the Ashleys so she wouldn’t think about how scared she was to say goodbye to moments like this.

* * *

When the Ashleys finished working their magic, Camille hardly recognized herself. She looked like a princess. And it was her own hair and complexion staring back at her—not the false face she’d so often presented, hidden by wigs and copious amounts of careful cosmetics. She was wearing makeup, but somehow, the Ashleys managed to highlight Camille’s features, bringing out her true beauty.

When they were done, they each gave her a tight squeeze, wishing her the best night ever.

Ashley Calhoune was packing up the last of her supplies when Ashley Banks approached Camille with another white envelope from Nate. “Here’s your next clue.”

Camille took the card. “Thank you, Ashley. And not just for today. I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you these past few weeks.”

Ashley surprised Camille by pulling her into another hug. “Me too,” she admitted. “I wish I hadn’t waited so long to be your friend. You’re a really cool person, Camille. I wish I could be more like you.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Strong, brave, not afraid to be who you are.”

Camille wanted to laugh, because she wasn’t any of those things. But she was too stunned by the honesty in Ashley’s voice to respond.

“Have a great time tonight, Cami. You deserve it.”

“You too.”

Ashley squeezed Camille’s hands one last time. “See you at prom.”

Nate

“How do I look?” Nate asked, coming out of his bedroom in his tux.

He’d been hoping to emulate Humphrey Bogart’s character in Casablanca by wearing a white tuxedo jacket with black lapels, black pants and a crisp black bowtie.

His dad gave a low whistle, beaming proudly. “You look like a million bucks, boy-o.”

Nate hugged his dad, and then let him straighten his bowtie.

He released a nervous sigh. Nate wanted tonight to be amazing for Camille. He’d spent the past few weeks planning every detail of tonight and he was praying it went perfectly. Cami deserved nothing less.

“So, are you ready for this?” his dad asked, patting him on the back.

“More than ready.”

“You look nervous,” his dad added. “Can I give you a piece of advice?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t hold back, Nate. Tell her everything that’s in your heart. Life is too short for regrets.”

Nate hugged his dad again. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Nathan, I’m proud of you, son. I’m proud of the man you’ve become.”

“Thanks, Dad. And thank you for helping me with all of this.”

His dad smiled. “Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”

“Always.”

His dad pulled Nate in for one more hug, patting him hard on the back. “Now go show that girl of yours a night she’ll never forget.”