Nate

Nate grinned as he walked up Conti Street toward Sweet Thang’s. The night air was cool and full of possibility. After school, he’d rushed home on the streetcar to fetch his violin, travel amp and supplies. He’d even changed into his lucky shirt. Tyler had given it to Nate to wear at the only skate competition he ever won, giving the shirt legendary powers. It was a bit small on him now, but Nate didn’t care. It was the shirt’s magic he needed. He paired it with his faded jeans, striped socks, black Converse and winning smile. Who could resist saying yes to prom with this version of Nate? Hopefully not Cami.

Nate ducked into a hardware shop two doors down from Sweet Thang’s, sharing his plan with the shop owner. Once that was squared away, he went to work setting everything up. By the time he dragged his bow across the strings of his violin, the sun had sunk behind the old buildings, casting a golden glow over the French Quarter. It was times like these that made the city’s magic tangible.

Closing his eyes, Nate let himself fall into his song. It was one he’d been working on for a while. It’d been incomplete until he met Camille. She was the missing ingredient the song needed. That was one of the many things Nate loved about his violin. He could pour his hopes and fears into it, and poetry came out—and poetry was meant to be shared.

Nate played louder and harder, until the city itself seemed to join in the song bleeding from his violin. The wind blew the chimes of the nearby palm readers. The clip-clop of the mule-drawn carriages provided the beat. And the steady buzzing of cicadas brought the bass. Nate loved that music could involve everyone, making individuals a part of something bigger for one perfect moment.

As the final note echoed down the narrow streets, Nate kept his eyes closed, cherishing the moment a bit longer while he steadied his breathing. When he opened his eyes, the view made his throat bob. Camille stood still as a statue in the street, her willowy silhouette illuminated by the streetlights. She was wearing a hot pink apron over her white t-shirt and black leathery leggings. Her long silver hair was braided over one shoulder. She looked like a bakery goddess and suddenly Nate wanted to lick powdered sugar off her for the rest of his life. Focus, Nate!

“What do ya say, Cami?” Nate asked pointing to the flickering tea lights he’d lit before starting to play. They were on the sidewalk in front of him and spelled out PROM with a question mark at the end.

She was either speechless or frozen, because she didn’t reply, or move for that matter. She just stood there, staring at Nate like he was a lunatic. Which, he might be. Because who threw together a prom-posal like this in a day for a girl he’d only known a few weeks? But Nate didn’t care. Especially not when it came to Camille. She made him feel alive. More alive than any of the other crazy things he’d done in pursuit of living since Tyler died. And somehow, Nate knew, taking Cami to prom was something he had to do.

“Sugar, if she won’t say yes, I will,” Ronnie called, poking his head out of Sweet Thang’s.

At that Camille moved, swatting Ronnie away while hissing something at him that Nate couldn’t hear. Ronnie retreated back into his bakery, but there wasn’t much point. The storefront was made up of a massive garage door that was always open since the shop dished out sweets 24/7.

Now that Cami had reanimated, Nate asked his question again. “Will you go to prom with me, Camille LaRue?”

“Nate . . . I-I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t really do that kinda stuff.”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Were you raised by a reverend that believes rock n roll should be banned?” he asked quoting Footloose, which was secretly one of his favorite movies.

Camille smiled. She must’ve caught the reference, which made Nate like her even more. “No. I’m just not into that kind of stuff.”

“Are you into me?”

She bit her lip, but didn’t respond.

Better than a no, at least. Nate sighed. “Okay, okay. I get it. I need to do better.”

“No, Nate that’s not it. This . . . I don’t even have words for this,” she said watching the blazing candles melt puddles of wax onto the sidewalk. She’d stepped close enough that the light danced over her features like moonlight on water. “It’s not the way you asked, or you, it’s just . . . I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not really part of the popular crowd at NOAH.”

“I know. That’s part of the reason I like you so much.”

Surprise flickered in her gray-blue eyes. “It is?”

“That and you know all the best donut places in town.”

She laughed. “Seriously, Nate. Thank you. This was beautiful,” she said, reaching out to run a finger over his violin. They were standing toe to toe now. “I think prom would be a letdown after this.”

“Believe me, this is just the tip of the iceberg for us, Cami.” His fingers met hers, sizzling with attraction on contact. Her eyes lingered on his for a moment and Nate felt electrified. Staring into Camille’s eyes was like dangling off the edge of the world.

As if on cue thunder rumbled in the not so distance, making Nate jump. The gentle breeze from earlier picked up.

“You better come inside,” Camille said looking skyward. “Storms roll in quickly around here.”

Nate glanced at the threatening clouds, calculating how long it would take him to get home. Large drops were already starting to fall. He’d never make it to the Canal Street line without getting his gear soaked. And it wasn’t like he needed to be asked twice to hang out at Sweet Thang’s. The bakery had two things essential to Nate’s life—donuts and Cami.

* * *

Thanks to the rain, Nate, Camille and Ronnie had the bakery to themselves. Ronnie let Nate pick the toppings for a new donut he was concocting and Nate had nearly keeled over when he saw the rows upon rows of candies, cereals and other delicious toppings stored in the kitchen. It was a sugar freak’s dream come true.

Camille caught Nate drooling and smiled. “Impressive, huh?”

Nate grinned. “Not as impressive as your smile.”

“Oh my God. It’s sweet enough in here without your sappy one liners.”

“Ignore her, sugar,” Ronnie crooned. “I think it’s darling. You can flatter me with sweet nothings anytime.”

“Thanks, Ronnie,” Nate replied. “Glad to see someone appreciates my sense of humor.”

Camille stuck her tongue out and Nate’s heart melted a little bit more. She was beyond cute. She was kitten-in-a-basket-of-yarn adorable. And the more time Nate spent around her, the harder it was for him to not wrap her up in his arms and never let go. His attraction to her was borderline smothering, and Nate found himself looking for something to distract him from the suffocating feeling in his chest. Luckily, he didn’t have to look any further than Ronnie.

“So, Ronnie, I got to play twenty questions with Cami yesterday,” Nate said.

“Did ya now?” Ronnie’s cat-like green eyes darted to Camille. She glared back, communicating something unspoken. “Learn anything interesting?” Ronnie asked.

“Tons. But I was wondering if you wanted to play?”

“Oh, sugar, there ain’t nothing ya can’t tell from lookin’ at me. I’m gayer than a chorus line and can cook my way to any man’s heart.”

Nate laughed. “Yeah, I was pretty much picking up on that.”

“How ‘bout we play a different game?” Ronnie asked, eyes sparkling.

“What’d ya have in mind?”

Ronnie pulled out a hot pink chair and sat down. “Ever had your fortune read?”

Nate stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Can’t say I have.”

“Well, then it would be my pleasure to pop your mystical cherry.”

“Ronnie!” Camille scolded, coming out from behind the counter, her arms folded in disapproval.

“What? I’m not gonna make him do it. Besides,” Ronnie dropped his voice. “I already know how all this works out,” he said gesturing between Camille and Nate with a knowing grin. “In case you’re wondering.”

“I do, too,” Nate said, with confidence. “She’s crazy about me.”

“You’re both crazy,” Camille muttered going back to polishing the spotless glass counter.

“Actually,” Nate said, furrowing his brow. “I do have some other questions I’d like to ask.”

“Ya see, Camille. The boy’s practically begging me. Whatcha interested in knowing, bebe?”

“It’s about my brother,” Nate said, trying to keep the pain from his voice. For some reason it was easier to say Ty or Tyler. When he said the word brother, it held more power over him. Like that one single word summed up all of their relationship, making it seem that much more impossible that Tyler had been erased from the world.

Ronnie patted the chair, inviting Nate to join him. When he did, Camille cleared her throat. “I’ll just give you two some privacy.”

“You don’t have to,” Nate replied.

“No, I do. This is the routine,” she said, like having fortunes read in the middle of the café was second nature.

Ronnie smiled. “The picture’s always clearer when no one else’s aura is around to distort it.”

“Oh.” Nate sort of wanted to ask Camille to stay. Not many things scared him. But whatever Ronnie might reveal about Tyler would be easier with Camille by Nate’s side. Everything felt easier when she was around.

“So how does this work?” Nate asked once Camille disappeared into the kitchen.

Ronnie held out his hands, palms up, and Nate obediently placed his own hands in them. “Just think the questions you have in your heart and I’ll do my best to see the answers,” Ronnie instructed, giving Nate’s fingers a little squeeze.

Nate closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t really know exactly what he wanted to ask. At night when Nate was alone with his thoughts, all kinds of questions crept into his mind. Like why did Tyler have to die? Why didn’t they have more time? Would it every stop hurting so bad?

Nate wasn’t sure he’d asked anything, but the way Ronnie squeezed his hands told him otherwise. When Nate opened his eyes, Ronnie was smiling knowingly at him.

“Nathaniel, I know you already know this, but your brother is still with ya, bebe. The ones we love never truly leave.”

“I know,” Nate said, fighting the tightness in his throat. “But sometimes I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without him. His life was cut so short. It’s like I want to make him proud by living enough for the both of us, but I don’t always know how to do that. And sometimes . . . sometimes it feels like I’m chasing something. I don’t know if it’s him or something I’m supposed to do. But I can never catch up. I can never catch my breath.”

Ronnie’s big hands squeezed Nate’s. “Sugar, the only life you’re meant to live is your own. And you’re livin’ it. Nuthin could make your brother prouder.”

Nate nodded, but he couldn’t help feeling let down. It was stupid to think Ronnie would actually give him some kind of wisdom from Tyler. Nate didn’t really believe in that kind of thing anyway. And he knew Ronnie meant well, but his words felt generic, like something one of Nate’s many grief counselors would say.

“Thanks,” Nate murmured, his voice tight.

“By the way,” Ronnie said, “Nice shirt.”

Nate’s heart leapt to his throat. “What?” There was no way Ronnie could know Nate was wearing Tyler’s old shirt.

Ronnie gave Nate a familiar crooked smile and winked. It was so very Tyler-like that goose bumps raced up Nate’s spine. He squeezed Ronnie’s hand and for the first time in a really long time, Nate felt a little less alone.

Ronnie let go of Nate’s hands and fanned himself, returning to his natural charisma. “My, there are some good genes in your family tree, sugar.”

“You saw him?”

“I see a lot of things,” Ronnie replied. “But here’s what you need to know. Your brother is okay. And you’re gonna be okay too, bebe. But you gotta stop feeling guilty. You’re here for your own reason.”

“And I don’t suppose you know what that is?”

“Some things are better learned than told.”

Nate nodded. It may have seemed like a vague answer, but that was enough for him. He didn’t want to know the particulars of his future. He always thought knowing something like that would shape the way he lived too much.

Nate started to stand, but Ronnie grabbed his hand.

“One more thing, Nathaniel. It’s about Camille.”

He sat back down.

“Camille is very special to me. She’s not as tough as she wants everyone to think. She doesn’t let many people in. But when she does . . . the girl’s got a lot of love in that heart a hers. But I’ve never met anyone more afraid of it. Be careful with her, okay?”

“I won’t hurt her,” Nate said, meeting Ronnie’s stern gaze.

“I know you won’t. I think you could be good for her, but she won’t make it easy on ya.”

“I’m up for the challenge. Besides, the best things in life are worth fighting for, right?”

A sullen look crossed Ronnie’s green eyes. He looked like he was going to say something else but instead he nodded before standing and walking toward the kitchen door. “Camille, it’s time you take this boy a yours home.”

She poked her pretty silver head out from the back. “Has he worn out his welcome already?”

“Never, but I can feel this storm gettin’ stronger. You better head out now while ya still can.”

“But I’ve got another two hours left,” Cami argued.

“Ain’t nobody coming out for sweets in weather like this. I’ll call Hector down to keep me company.”

“But my car’s at home. I didn’t drive today.”

“I know that, baby cakes,” Ronnie said giving Camille a knowing look. “But the rain’s gonna let up just about . . .”

The pounding of the rain stopped as if someone had simply switched off the faucet. It made Nate’s skin prickle. Was Ronnie really that psychic? But before he could ask the question, Ronnie held up his phone, smirking at the weather app showing the storm radar. “You’ve got about fifteen minutes ‘til it starts back up again. I’d run on home now if I were you.”