An overwhelming sense of pride consumes me. I cry—but it's so different to the thousand tears I've shed recently.

"I'm sorry," he sympathizes, "I didn't mean to make you cry."

I shake my head, my tears in full force. And then I look up at him. He licks his lips, his eyes searching mine. "They're good tears, Cameron. I'm just so proud of you."

He laughs once. "Thanks. Honestly, I'm proud of myself. I didn't think I had a chance."

"But your work is so good. And I'm so glad that you put yourself out there, because now you know—maybe now you can believe in yourself."

"Like you did?"

I wipe my eyes and nod.

"I just wanted you to know, Lucy—because I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you and your dad, steering me in the right direction—encouraging me, believing in me." He sniffs back the tears I know he's hiding. "I just wanted to say thank you."

I look back down at the article. "Can I keep this?"

"Of course," he laughs. "Mom kind of went crazy and ordered dozens of copies of that newspaper. She's mailed it out to almost everyone she knows."

I laugh at his words. "She's just proud of you, Cameron. I can't wait to show my dad. He'll be so excited for you. When did you enter?"

"A couple weeks before you left for New Jersey."

"Oh." I fold up the article and pocket it.

"So," he starts, and then cuts himself off.

"So?"

He inhales deeply, like he's building the courage to say what he says next. "There was a prize for the winner—it's kind of the reason why I entered. It was five thousand dollars cash."

I'm smiling. Genuine. For the first time in so damn long. "That's amazing!"

"Yeah..."

"What are you gonna do with the money?"

"That's the thing, Luce. I entered hoping to win because... fuck. This is so hard."

"What's hard?"

"All of it. Everything. Talking to you. Being this close and not being able to touch you. Trying to speak to you... but it's like... I second guess everything I'm saying because—"

"Cam," I interrupt. "What did you have planned if you won?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose and then lets out a little groan. "I looked into housing on campus. For us, Luce. I thought maybe we could get an apartment together. If I take that money and the money I saved over summer we can get one, just for a semester, but it's a start. And we wouldn't have to even room together. I looked at the two bed, two bath ones. You can have your own room. I just thought..."

I stare down at the table, crying harder with every single word he speaks. Nothing's changed. My feelings about him are still the same. So are my feelings for him. I love him. Which is why I say quietly, "I can't, Cameron."

"Yeah," he breathes out. He turns away, his shoulders heaving with each breath. "I didn't think so. I had to ask anyway."

The ache in my chest is suffocating. "Cameron." He flinches when I touch his arm.

I stand up, not wanting to say goodbye, because I won't be able to live through it. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything," he whispers, not looking at me.

"Pick up a pen. Believe in yourself. Believe in your heart."

He laughs a bitter laugh. "You are my heart, Luce. And now you're gone."

-CAMERON-

I call work when I get in the car to tell them I'm going to be late. Chris answers. He tells me that it's dead and they really don't need two people on. He'll clock me in and out so I still get paid, but not to bother coming in. I thank him profusely, and pull into Mom and Mark's driveway.

Mark grins from ear to ear when he opens the door.

"Don't be too happy to see me," I tell him. "Soon you'll get sick of me asking for your help... and your money."

"Finally," he shouts, waving his hands in the air. He steps aside for me to walk in and pats my back when I do. "Pretty sure you have fifteen years of asking for my help to make up for."

We spend the afternoon searching online and making phone calls, trying to find the perfect space. There's a reason Mark's dealership is so successful. It's because his negotiation skills are amazing. He reads out his credit card number to the person on the phone and tells them I'll pick up the keys first thing tomorrow. When he hangs up, he puts his credit card away, but pulls out another one and hands it to me. "For supplies and what not," he says.

I look down at the card in my hand—it's got my name on it. I suck in a breath and try to give it back. "I can't accept that."

He scoffs. "Fifteen years, remember?"

***

The next day I pick up the keys, use Mark's card to buy supplies, and go to the space he leased for the next year. And then I do something that I haven't done since the day Lucy left.

I pick up a pen.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

-CAMERON-

I smile when I read the text from Jake. All it says is the name of a building, a room number and a time to meet there. I don't need to ask what it means.

I make Minge come with me to pick up what I need, and meet Jake outside Lucy's future room. We moved into ours yesterday. Micky told Jake that Lucy was coming the day before classes started. That gave me just under a week to get it perfect.