Path of Destruction (Broken Heartland, #2)(15)

But Kyle had changed his mind, and she’d acted like the exact person her mother had raised her to be. Thinking for one second that he wasn’t good enough for her had cost her everything. Now, he was gone. Forever.

Two weeks had passed since she’d found out that he was dead. She’d thrown herself into the arms of the one person that she knew wouldn’t judge her or ask questions. Hayden had started to ask her what her deal was, but she’d begged him not to. Instead, he offered her a nod of understanding and a look that told her if and when she was ready to talk he’d be there.

Cami didn’t know if she’d ever be ready to talk about it. What was she going to say? “I fell in love, acted like the selfish bitch I was raised to be, and now he’s gone.” Not to mention the fact that no one even knew that she’d had known Kyle. Raquel was liable to generate a rumor saying Cami was making the entire thing up for attention, which was the last thing she wanted. So, instead, she painted on a face of contentment and went to school every day like nothing had ever happened. It was after school, when she was alone, that she would allow herself to feel the loss. The pain. The regret. Just like her memories of Kyle, she was keeping her grief to herself.

“I’m here,” she murmured, settling into her usual seat at the head of the front table.

Don’t forget to smile.

Not only was she on all of the committees, she was the head of all of the committees. She was trying her best to fit back into the society she was ready to leave behind before the storm. Now it was the only thing she had, so she’d been focusing her attention where she thought it should be. She dropped her planning binder on the tabletop with a heavy thud. Several months’ worth of order forms, fabric samples, playlists, and fundraising schedules hit the table, summoning everyone to take their seat.

“Let’s get started.”

More like let’s get this over with.

“Actually,” Raquel said as she leaned over, resting her hands on the surface, separating them. “I’ve been running the meetings. You missed a couple,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, I was in a medically induced coma,” she said flatly. She knew Raquel was chomping at the bit to replace in her in many aspects, but this was new low even for her.

“I know. And don’t think that we all didn’t wish you a speedy recovery, because we totes did. But we had some major decisions that had to be made. We couldn’t wait around forever,” she added with such a feigned tone of concern that Cami felt the bile rise in her throat.

“I. Was. In. A. Coma.”

“Come on, hon. Don’t get all uppity about it. It’s not a big deal. I was the vice chair anyway.” Raquel placed her hand on Cami’s shoulder, appearing to comfort her to the outside world, but Cami could feel the urgency in her fingertips as if it were telling her to get out of her seat.

“Whatever,” Cami finally said in defeat.

She didn’t have the energy to fight with her. Everything else had already been taken away from her. She might as well give this up too. It was a bad idea anyway. She thought for a moment that maybe being involved in something—like planning her senior prom—would help keep her from wondering to the dark corners of her mind. The corners where she wanted to curl up and disappear and just be done with it all.

She grabbed her binder and shuffled to the back of the classroom. Raquel could have all this bullshit. The rest of her minions all gathered around the front of the room as Raquel started rattling off all the decisions she’d made in Cami’s absence.

“Okay, everyone. We’ve decided on the prom color scheme. Coral and cream.” Raquel smiled as if she’d announced that she’d discovered the cure for cancer.

Ugh.

Cami rolled her eyes at Raquel’s shit-for-taste selections and shook her head.

“Not a fan of those I take it?” a deep, gravelly voice called out from beside her.

She turned her head to see Brantley Cooper’s solid, farm-boy frame leaned back in the chair two down from her. She didn’t miss the way his shirt inched up around his waistband revealing his toned stomach and sun-kissed skin. Whatever anyone thought about farmers’ tans was dead wrong. He drummed his pencil on the top of the table as if he’d rather be anywhere than where he was right now. She knew the feeling.

“Are you a fan of the color spectrum of vomit?” she replied.

He laughed loud enough to garner a look from Raquel and the rest of the committee. Cami felt her lips tug up as she fought back a smile. Apparently, she was still able to crack a joke.

“Not so much,” he agreed.

“It was supposed to be black and white. The theme was ‘An Elegant Affair.’ But I was apparently voted off the island.”

“Yeah, I arrived just in time for the coup d’état,” he told her.

His ability to use the term “coup d’état” correctly threw her for a loop. Her surprise must have been apparent on her face.

“I took French,” he said, flashing her a boyish grin. It was a far cry from the looks she’d seen him give Hayden in the hallway.

Whatever had happened over the summer had the two of them staring each other down on a daily basis. She felt bad for not asking Hayden more about it, but they’d both had other things on their minds.

“Our little school wasn’t completely worthless. Before the storm, anyway. Now, it’s just a pile of bricks.”