Nicki picked up the pen in January 2014, publishing her first novel, Lather, in June of 2014. She followed Lather with The Perfection Series: Damaged Perfection releasing in November of 2014 and Resisting Perfection in March of 2015. Her most recent novel, Broken Minds, a standalone, was released in August of 2016. Her current work in progress is titled Angel Face and is set to release in the Fall of 2017.
The Date follows Lather: A Moore Love Novel. If you loved Logan and Emily, pick up Lather to read their love story from the beginning.
You can find more information about Nicki by going to the following sites:
Website: https://authornickirae.wixsite.com/authornickirae
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authornickirae/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel
Email: [email protected]
Camou Heart’s Best Friend
By Sam Destiny
Copyright © 2017 by Sam Destiny
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
www.samdestiny.com
Created with Vellum
Prologue
Haden
Camou, that’s what we call her. That’s what I’ve been calling her since I met her when she was fifteen.
She comes from a military family. I think even her cat’s in the army or navy, or what-do-I-know. She’s tiny, a girl with ever-changing hair colors. I couldn’t tell you what her natural one is. She used to be a blonde, but it wasn’t real. Her roots were showing too clearly for that. Then she’d had black hair, but that clearly wasn’t her natural color, either. Right now she sported some weird red-orange mix.
I honestly had no preference because she was just my best friend. One of the guys, although, not literally.
I’m not sure why I picked her to be my best friend. Maybe she picked me? Either way, since the day she walked into school wearing her big brother’s dog tags, a camouflage baseball cap, dark jeans, and a simple white tank, her and I have been inseparable. She comes to all my games, all the bonfires, and she even plays wingman if I need it.
Not that I do. I’m quarterback in my high school and girls flock to me. Even when I had a girlfriend they did, and Camou was the one who kept them all away.
You can tell she’s more a boy than a girl, right? She hates curling her hair or putting on false lashes, and nail polish makes her sick to her stomach. Camou was all I needed in a best friend, especially because she refuses to drink, and that means I always have a driver.
But when Scott, Camou’s big brother, is killed in action weeks before her seventeenth birthday, everything changes.
It’s only after that, I realize that maybe Camou has also been camouflaging her heart.
Haden
Haden
It’s been two months since I stood by Camou’s side at the funeral of her brother. He’d been buried with honors, and almost the entire town was there. I’d held her hand then later held her,while she’d cried on my shoulder, choking on sobs until way past midnight.
Something changed that day. In me. In her.
We’re at a bonfire near the town’s only lake and I absentmindedly toy with the ring in my bottom lip. I picked up the habit not long after getting the piercing. Camou has been there with me, and sometimes I still catch her staring at the ring like she can’t believe I went through with it.
And I almost hadn’t, if it wouldn't have been for her taunting me all the way there.
“You okay, Lowell?” Dan, one of my football buddies, leans forward and pulls me back from my thoughts.
“Yeah, just remembered the day I got the piercing.”
“Camou went with you, didn’t she? You figured she wouldn’t spill on you if you chickened out, huh?” He grins, but there’s an edge to it.
He’s blond. Hell, sometimes I think we all are because the sun’s beating down on us. His eyes are dark in the firelight, and he lowers his lashes when he catches me watching.
“What’s up with you, dude?” He’s been like that for a few days, or probably weeks even, and I never bothered to say anything. Somehow he turned cautious around me.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about how you take her with you everywhere you go. Want another beer?” He stands without waiting for my answer. Now I know something’s off because I’m drinking Coke. Have been all night.
“Weird,” I mutter, emptying my can with one long pull and crush it in my hand.
“Not really. You’re so busy with yourself and Camou, you don’t see a thing, man.”
What’s with people today? I turn to Laker next to me and arch a brow. He isn’t on the football team, but runs track instead, and we hang out sometimes.
“See what?”
“Not my story to tell,” he says helpfully and stands. Fuck. I wish I was drinking, but I promised Camou she could have a beer. My eyes wander back to her. The day after the funeral she dyed her hair raven black, and today she pulled the ponytail through her trademark baseball cap and it whips from left to right, because she’s shaking her head at something the guy in front of her said.
She holds a beer can, but I have to admit I haven’t seen her drinking from it. When she shifts, I can see Dan standing in front of her. Making my way over, I nudge her with my hip and she looks up at me, her dog tags shining in the fire. She added a black one for Scott, and I cannot believe she is carrying a reminder of her worst day around her neck.
“You drinking, Camou, or not? Because then you can take my truck back and I enjoy a cold one.” I know her eyes are shining blue, but in the firelight they are rather green. I don’t know when I started noticing the freckles on her nose. There are just a few, in the warm glow here they are darker than usual, more prominent.
“Go ahead, Lowell, but don’t overdo it. Your mom will get all pissed at us again.” She rolls her eyes and I nudge her again, grinning.
“She loves you. I think if you deliver me, I’m going to be fine.” I’m not one to get drunk, but I sure like my buzz on occasion.
“Well then, hero, go and find your beer.” She makes a sweeping gesture, as if bowing to a prince, and I laugh.
“I can take you home, Camou, remember?” Dan says next to us. I’d totally forgotten he was there and groan internally.
“Well, we can’t leave his truck here, Danny,” Camou tells him. “Someone needs to take it home.”
“It’s his, let him take it home,” Dan insists, and I’m about to say something when Camou reaches out and places her hand against his chest.
“Drop it. We can talk tomorrow,” she says pointedly. His face lights up and he nods.
“Fine then, Lowell. She’s all yours tonight.” With those parting words, he leaves and I stare after him, tempted to scratch my head. I toy with the ring on my lip instead and feel how Camou pulls my lip away from my tongue.
“Stop, that’s creepy enough during daylight. Here, next to the fire, it makes your lip look split in half.” She shakes her head and then holds out her can to me. “Drink up, boy-o, Mandy is here and she’s on a mission tonight.”
Mandy is the girl I’ve been eyeing for a while, but we never got around to our date. I search for the usual disappointment inside of me, but it’s not there. Huh. Not bothering to dwell on that, I nod. “Well then, I better find her and show her some of my Southern charm,” I chuckle and Camou flashes me a smile.
It doesn’t touch her eyes, and I imagine it’s because she’s still hurting over losing Scott. It probably won’t stop for a long time, but hell, I won’t lie. I miss my best friend and her beaming smiles. Lowering her lashes, she pulls the black sweater she’s wearing down over her hands. There’s a hole for her thumb in each sleeve a
nd it makes her arms look longer, slimmer. Then again, she has lost weight, too, and I’m not around often enough to make sure she eats every meal of the day.
“Here she comes,” Camou hisses when I feel a hand brushing over my back.
“Hey, superstar,” Mandy greets me, her voice thickly sweet like her perfume.
“I… umm… need a Coke.” Camou excuses herself and I lift the beer can to my lips, tasking her lip balm on it. I think it’s the only true girly concession she ever makes. The vanilla taste makes me grin. Just three weeks or so ago, we shared a bottle of water since it was my last one, and she’d had strawberry then.
“Earth to Haden? I’m right here, what are you looking at?” Though Mandy’s trying—and failing—a sexy purr, I can hear the pissed-off edge. Focusing back on her, feeling in my gut that tonight’s the night I finally get to kiss her, I smile.
“Just making sure no one else will come and interrupt us, beautiful. How about we go find ourselves somewhere a little… cozier?”
She links our arms and I wait for triumph to settle in as we start across the little beach, but besides a mild annoyance I cannot place, nothing else sets in.
Camou
Camou
I hate Mandy with a passion, but even more, I hate the fact that I cannot bring the usual fury out. I feel numb, fingering my dog tags. It’s as much a habit as Lowell’s toying with that damn piercing. The piercing he shouldn’t make me focus on each and every time anew, because it’s just too damn sexy.
Mandy probably will enjoy watching him toy with it.
Shaking my head, I bend to grab a Cokefrom the cooler. Only it’s not that simple since most of them seem to be gone. Kneeling next to the damn thing, I search around, trying hard to not get my sweater wet, when a light shines into the box.
“There, girl,” someone says and I glance up. Laker. The guy they call that because he wants to play for the Lakers one day. Not that he can dribble a ball, or even shoot a basket without hurting himself, but I guess if you have a dream, you have a dream, and no one here thinks they have the right to take it from him. Good for him. I find the last Coke and grab it.
“Ha!” I exclaim triumphantly and he grins at me, helping me up before he forces his hands in his pockets. I eye him for a moment because usually not many guys bother talking to me, and I don’t mind. To them, I am one of the guys, and I like it that way.
Sitting by the fire, gushing over guys while giggling? No way in hell.
Make crazy bets about who can fish best in the dark? I’m in.
“What else do you need?” I get uneasy since he doesn’t leave.
“Nothing, I just thought we could talk.” He shrugs and I let my eyes wander from his dark hair to his white sneakers. He’s one of the few guys here with chestnut hair. The sun luckily doesn’t have such a strong effect on him as it does on the rest. They all look like they should be in California with their blond hair and blue eyes. They breed ‘em here, I swear.
Laker is cute, I guess. If you’re into the lanky, somewhat awkward teen-type.
“About what?” I crack my Coke open and look around for something to sit on. He grabs my elbow and leads us over to the back of a truck. He even offers to help me up, and now I outright stare at him. The guys never do that. After all, they wouldn’t get the idea to help each other up. Plus, I’m one of the guys, remember? I’m hanging out with them andshooting hoops with Scott whenever he’s home.
On the heel of that thought I remember he died and we buried him. Lowell stood next to me through the service, holding my hand, being my rock. It was the only day I ever was truly girly around him.
My heart squeezes in pain and I press my palm against my chest.
“You do that a lot,” Laker comments, and I jump up on the bed of the truck and sit.
“Do what?”
“Hold your chest as if your heart will jump out of it,” he explains and I sigh.
“Laker, are you drunk? I mean, you’re acting really weird.” He’s been watching me more closely than I want.
“You’re a girl, and a pretty cool one at that,” he tells me as if that is all I need to know.
“What is with you guys suddenly? First Dan asks me out, and then you come over here and want to talk to me. We never talk. I mean… no one else ever talks to me, unless we have to discuss boobs.” And not mine. I didn’t even know they realized I was a girl.
“Dan asked you out?” His tone is incredulous and I laugh.
“Right? That was my reaction, too.” I shake my head, glad someone else sees the craziness of that.
“What did you tell him?”
“At first I told him no.” And it’s true, but then he was about to throw a fit because I’m taking Lowell home tonight, so I agreed in the end. The way he’d smiled at me makes me hope he understood what I was trying to say. Or maybe he didn’t and just thinks we’ll meet at school tomorrow. I don’t really care.
Ugh, Scott would be so terribly pissed at me. He urged me to start dating because he thought it would loosen me up some. He called me ‘too serious’ on too many occasions, and there, when standing at his grave during the funeral, I promised him I’d go and date someone.
Not Lowell. I’d silently promised him that, too.
“That guy is not good for you, sis. He doesn’t know a high school sweetheart if he has one, and you need that. I don’t think you’ll fall in love more than once. Too serious. So don’t date Lowell. Promise me.”
I remember his words, the entire conversation clearly. Back then I didn’t promise him anything because, a.) I wasn’t interested in any guy, and b.) who the hell gave him the right to decide over my life? But everything changed. Scott always knew what I needed, even back when I was still little and wanted a cat until he’d gotten me a puppy. It was the best thing he’d ever done for me.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts from the past, I focus on the here and now. And that means Laker and his stupid question.
“Until you didn’t anymore,” he concludes. It’s not a question and yet I feel compelled to answer.
“No. Dan is…” Do not say nice, do not say nice, I tell myself. Nice is the little brother of shit.
“Yeah?” Laker seems really interested in what I have to say.
“Dan is sweet, and handsome.” And he is. His hair is darker than all the sunny boys’, yet still blond. It’s a little longer, reminding me somewhat of the haircut Lowell has. His eyes are a sparkling green whenever the sun is in his face, and he has a dimple on his right cheek. He plays on Lowell’s team and is probably one of the guys I hung out with most. Haden and him are pretty close. If I weren’t Lowell’s best friend, Dan probably would be.
“And faster than all of us. Wow.” He whistles quietly, and I playfully punch his shoulder.
“Oh, no. I saw him running. Plus, you’re on the track team, Laker.” I sip my Coke then, hoping the talk is over. Sadly, an awkward silence is spreading between us—until noise from behind catches my attention. I’m not easily scared. In fact, I sit through horror movies and don’t bat an eyelash, but things coming at me from behind? They make me uneasy lately.
“What?” Laker asks as if he hadn’t heard what I heard.
“There was a noise.” I’m tense and I can’t help it, because I can’t even spot a shadow. The truck is parked at a weird angle toward the fire, making it impossible to see very far.
“You’re tense,” he comments. No shit, Sherlock.
“Noises from behind her make her uneasy. Sorry, Camou, didn’t realize it was you up here.” Lowell steps out of the truck’s shadow, and I sigh a breath of relief.
“Why?”
I blink, wondering what Laker is asking.
“Scott, her brother, was shot from behind. They had cleared the room, but seemingly a fucker hid in the shadows,” Lowell provides helpfully, before stepping in front of me.
Since I’m sitting on the back of the truck we’re almost at eye-level. His face lies in shadows, making it hard to gu
ess what he’s thinking.
“Oh.”It’s all Laker says. He’s waiting for something. No clue what, and I don’t really care, either. He’s nice, yes, but this whole evening has been too freaky. What is going on with my friends lately? The boys whisper behind my back as if they joined the cheerleaders and declared gossiping a sport.
Eventually he hops off the truck and shrugs. “I’ll see ya around,” he states and then leaves.
Haden hasn’t said anything, but I don’t mind. We don’t need blabber to fill the silence between us. It’s comfortable, safe.
“Wanna leave, Camou?” he asks after what seems to be an eternity. I redid my ponytail during that time, and he places the cap back on my head.
“Sure.”
I wonder what happened to him and Mandy, but then decide I actually don’t. I don’t want to know, nor do I care, whether they kissed or not. I wish I could write a letter to Scott and talk to him about all these guys here.
He was eight years older than me, but everything I looked up to. He knew it all. He was smart, and sweet, and the best brother ever.
My mood drops even more, if possible, and I notice Haden holding out a hand to me, as if he has to help me down. “What, did I suddenly turn eighty or something,since everyone’s ready to help me?” I ask annoyed, and he pulls his hand back. I can see him lifting his shoulders, forcing his hands into his pockets.And though I can’t see it, I know he’s toying with that piercing again.
Without a second thought, I reach out and pull his bottom lip free from his teeth. “Stop that,” I tell him quietly. I feel different when he’s around me, like nothing bad can happen, and I think about how glad I am that I found a best friend like that so easily.
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