In the immortal words of Sally Brown (Charlie’s sister), “All I want is my fair share. All I want is what’s coming to me.” Words to live by.
I knew it was cold from the cloud of smoke that escaped my mouth whenever I exhaled. I certainly couldn’t feel the cold. I couldn’t feel anything. I was still in that stage where you know intellectually what’s happening to you, but you haven’t allowed yourself to feel it yet. I sat at our spot staring out across the pond thinking of nothing and everything. Somehow my life had changed, turned upside down in a matter of minutes and I never saw it coming.
I heard the crunch of the gravel behind me. My phone had been blowing up with calls and texts from my family. None of them knew where I had run off to. If they knew I was literally three blocks away from them, they’d be furious. I wasn’t surprised that he knew exactly where to find me. I heard more gravel crunching as he rounded the picnic table I was sitting on top of. They replaced the one Noah demolished several months ago. He moved closer to me, neither one of us said a word. I continued to stare across the pond.
“Tweet,” he said. His voice was low and shaky.
He moved in closer, getting ready to wrap his arms around me. I leaned away from him and held my hand up, palm out, signaling him to stop.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Why?”
“Because, if you touch me, I’ll fall apart. I’ve already pulled myself back together once today. I don’t think I could do it again.”
I could see out the corner of my eye he was texting someone, probably my family letting them know he found me. I knew he wouldn’t tell them where I was, so I didn’t protest.
He sat down next to me, but kept a safe distance so we wouldn’t be touching. We sat in silence. Noah knew I would talk when I was ready.
I let my thoughts drift back through the last few months. I started with the beginning of school. It was a good semester. I made the Dean’s list, I was getting used to being away from home, I loved my roommate, and I got Noah back.
I started dissecting the semester more. There were minor things that when I strung them together would have caused me concern. Why didn’t I string them together and pay attention? My parents had even brought it up during Thanksgiving, but I brushed it off as nothing. I had other things that occupied my time and attention. Two days ago when I got home for Christmas break I could no longer ignore it. In fact, my mom insisted something be done immediately. If she hadn’t forced my hand, I would still be blissfully ignorant with my life intact. Interesting how a little knowledge and two short words can demolish your entire world.
“Bone cancer.” Everything the doctor said after that was muffled.
It felt like I was under water, drowning. I was so confused. I came here because of a sprained ankle and the pain in my calf that had been persistent for a month. I thought the doctor made a mistake, had my x-rays mixed up with someone else’s. I looked over at my mom, who was sitting in the corner with tears rolling down her face. Why was she crying? It was just a sprained ankle.
“Amanda, did you hear me?” Dr. Thompson asked.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. The x-ray shows a tumor with irregular borders. That along with your weight loss, fatigue, and the leg pain you described, leads me to believe that’s what we’re dealing with. I’m going to send you over to Dr. Lang. He’s an excellent oncologist.”
His mouth moved and I heard noise coming out of it, but he must have been speaking a foreign language because I didn’t comprehend what he said to me.
My mom walked over to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders securely. She placed her hand on top of mine as the doctor continued.
“It’s fairly rare that bone cancer develops as the primary cancer. It usually is a result of it having metastasized from another site, so we’ll test for that.”
“What are you testing me for?” I asked.
I didn’t understand what was going on. Why did the doctor look so serious and why was my mom getting more upset the longer he talked. Didn’t they realize it’s just a sprained ankle?
“We need to find out if the cancer has invaded any other organs,” he said.
“It’s just a sprained ankle,” I insisted. I looked up at my mom, my eyes pleading with her to make him understand. “Mom, tell him it’s just a sprained ankle.”
She pulled me into her and held me while stroking my hair. “Sweetie, we’re going to get through this.”
I abruptly jerked away from her and got up from the exam table. The anger was evident in my voice.
“Why won’t you tell him?!” I insisted.
I backed away as she took a step toward me. “TELL HIM IT’S JUST A SPRAINED ANKLE, MOM!”
My body started to convulse with sobs as I sunk down in one of the chairs. It felt like one of those dreams where you think you’re falling. You try to grasp on to something to stop the fall, then suddenly you wake up. It takes a second before relief sets in that it was only a dream. That’s how I felt only without the waking up part.
Mom’s arms encircled me as tears poured out of me. “It’s a lot for us to take in all at once,” she said to the doctor.
“I understand. Why don’t you go home and adjust. I’ll have my nurse call you about scheduling the MRI and appointment with Dr. Lang. If you have any questions, it’s a good idea to write them down. I wish you had come in earlier when you first noticed the symptoms.”
I looked up at him. My face was drenched in tears. “I didn’t know I had symptoms. I was so busy and didn’t always have time to eat. I thought my leg hurt because of shin splints. I overslept a few times and my parking space was pretty far from my dorm, so I’d run down the stairs cause there’s no elevator in my dorm. I couldn’t be late for class. I just couldn’t. I had to make the Dean’s List and I did. I made the Dean’s List. Didn’t I, Mom?” I knew I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was trying to make sense of the senseless. I needed an answer to why this was happening.
I looked at both of them, hoping one could explain this to me, but neither could offer up an answer. The only thing I heard over my sobs was the doctor bombarding my mom with information about tests that would need to be performed.
“What’s the treatment for this?” Mom asked.
“Well, I’m not an oncologist, but usually surgery, chemo, and sometimes radiation.”
“What kind of surgery?”
“If the cancer is localized, they would try and remove the entire tumor. If its spread throughout the tissue the best course of treatment would be a below knee amputation.”
I bolted from my seat and dashed out the door as fast as I could. My limp had become pretty pronounced since Thanksgiving because of the pain. I had heard enough. I couldn’t handle anymore. I didn’t stop moving until I reached my mom’s car. I stood there facing the car, my hand poised on the door handle. I heard the lock click, I swung the door open, and got inside, slamming it shut. I heard the driver’s side door open and felt a slight movement as she slid into the seat.
“Sweetheart…”
“Don’t. I can’t talk right now. I just want to go home.”
We drove the entire way home in silence. Occasionally, I caught a glimpse out the corner of my eye of Mom wiping a tear away from her cheek. We pulled into our driveway. I immediately got out of the car and headed to the backyard to get my bike. I got on it and rode away without saying a word as to where I was headed because I didn’t know. I just needed to be alone. I could hear my mom call my name through her choked cries. I don’t know how long I rode around. I stopped when I got tired and found myself at mine and Noah’s spot.
Noah’s presence always calmed me down and gave me peace, but when I heard his footsteps behind me, I didn’t have the same sense of relief that I always had. For the first time in my life, my knight in plastic armor couldn’t save me from this monster.
“You talked to my mom?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. She called in a panic. She didn’t know where you were and you wouldn’t answer your phone.” He scooted a little closer to me. “It’s cold out here, Tweet. Let’s go somewhere warm.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out what I did,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“What I am being punished for?”
I could feel the tears starting to build behind my eyes. I desperately wanted to hold them back. When I let them spill over, it opened me up too much and the feelings were overwhelming. I wanted to stay numb just a little longer.
“You’re not being punished.”
Glancing over at Noah, I could see he was getting antsy. His fingers twitched as if he couldn’t keep himself from touching me for much longer. I finally looked at him. He looked as devastated. We stared at each other for a moment before he finally gave in and threw his arms around me. As we made contact, the tears and cries started gushing out of me.
Noah pulled me on to his lap. I buried my head in the crook of his neck and let all the emotions of the day spill out. He held me so tight, it was almost hard to breathe.
“You’re frozen, baby. Let me take you home,” he said.
I held on to him more securely. I didn’t want to go home yet. I had convinced myself that as long as I stayed out here, none of what was happening was real. If I set foot in my house and got around my family, the reality would set in and I wouldn’t be able to hide from it any longer. I knew I would have to go back soon, but in this moment I needed to pretend everything was fine and savor being wrapped up in Noah’s arms.
Cancer is a game changer, a dictator, and the great and powerful Oz all rolled up into one all-consuming beast.
I had lived two days with the diagnosis. It still didn’t feel real to me, but I knew it was real every time I saw the faces of Emily or my parents. I was scheduled for an MRI the next morning, and then I had an appointment with the doctor in the afternoon. The information given to me was so overwhelming. Doctors rattle this stuff off like it’s nothing. I realize it’s all in a day’s work for them, but you can’t expect a person, who has just been given the diagnosis of cancer, to even pay attention to anything else you’re saying.
Obviously, I wouldn’t be going back to school next semester. I was angry about that. I hated that something out of my control was dictating every decision I made. Mom contacted the university and explained the situation. We needed to go pack up my things now because once treatment started, I wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while. They assured her that someone would be there to let us in the dorm since it was Christmas break and only administrative staff was working.
I also needed to tell Matt face-to-face while I was in town. He was staying with some friends until Christmas Eve when he would fly home. Noah was coming with us to help. The plan was for my parents to drive up with the SUV, and Noah and I would have his truck.
Noah and I had been spending every possible minute with each other. I didn’t know how he was handling this with Brooke. We never discussed it. In fact, he and I hadn’t even talked about my diagnosis. Whenever the subject came up, he’d remain quiet. He’s been by my side, helping me with anything I needed. We just hadn’t brought up the reason he was helping me.
We were all quiet as we packed everything up from my extremely short college career. Lisa, of course, was home in Missouri for the holidays. We had a tear filled conversation yesterday. She promised to come see me when she got back next semester. Whether Lisa and I were roommates or not, I knew she would always be in my life. Sometimes you meet people and know immediately that they were meant to be your friend. Lisa was that person for me.
Once my parent’s car was packed up, they headed back home. I told them Noah and I would be along after I talked to Matt. Noah drove me over and waited in his truck while I went and broke the news. I had texted Matt that I was in town and was headed over.
I felt nervous for some reason as I walked up the stairs to his place. I knocked and the door immediately swung open. Matt scooped me up in his arms like he hadn’t seen me in years.
“God, it’s good to see you,” he said.
“You okay? You just saw me a few days ago.”
“I know, but I’ve missed you. Can’t a guy miss his woman?” He started kissing my neck.
“Matt, we need to talk. I need to tell you something.” He pulled back and looked at me with concern in his eyes.
“Are you breaking up with me, Stick? Because in my defense, I was completely wasted and didn’t know what was going on,” he rambled on.
“What are you talking about?” I stepped away from him.
“Usually when someone says we need to talk, there’s a breakup after that.”
“You slept with Danielle, didn’t you?”
“I thought about you the entire time. She wasn’t as good as I thought she would be. With her being so hot, I thought she’d be better than…”
“Me?!”
He walked up to me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and whispered in my ear, “Don’t be mad, Stick. I told you she wasn’t any good.” He started to nuzzle my neck.
“I have bone cancer, will probably have to have my leg amputated and go through chemo,” I said, flatly.
He stepped back. When he looked at me, his face was void of any emotion. I assumed he was waiting for me to finish, so I did.
“I just packed up my room. I’m not coming back next semester.”
He didn’t say anything for several minutes as he ran his hand through his hair.
He let go of a deep sigh and said, “I got the lead in next semester’s production.”
I thought I heard him wrong for a second. When I had played this conversation over in my head, this was not even a possible option of what I imagined he would say to me.
I headed to the door. I heard Matt’s footsteps behind me.
“Stick! Wait! You caught me off guard!” He grabbed my upper arm and spun me around to face him. “I didn’t know what to say to you. I thought you were coming to break up with me because you were mad about Danielle.”
“I don’t care about you enough to be mad about Danielle. I have to go. Noah’s waiting downstairs to drive me home.”
“Are you f*cking him?”
He still hadn’t let go of me. In fact, his grip had gotten tighter.
“What?” I tried to yank my arm away, but his hold was too strong. “Matt, let me go. You’re hurting me.”
“I’m not an idiot, Amanda. I see how you react whenever he calls. And he calls a lot. How long have you been f*cking him?”
“He’s my friend.” I yank again, harder, but still couldn’t free my arm.
The next few seconds happened so fast, it was a complete blur. I looked at Matt and saw a hand clamp around his neck and shove him up against the wall. He released his hold on my arm causing me to stumble backwards. When I looked up, I saw Noah’s hand tighten around Matt’s neck. Matt was gasping for air with each squeeze.
“A tight grip doesn’t feel so good when you’re the grippee, does it, Smurff*cker?” Noah put more pressure on Matt’s neck, completely cutting off any air flow. Matt’s eyes began to protrude and he was starting to turn blue. “Tweet, go get in the car.”
“Noah, he can’t breathe. Don’t kill him.”
“Go get in the goddamn car. Now!”
I turned and rushed out the door. Once in the hallway, I heard some loud thuds, grunts, and the sound of furniture breaking coming from the apartment. Within minutes the noises ceased, and Noah walked out, grabbed my hand, and led me back to the truck.
He flung opened the passenger door for me and I got in. I watched as he paced back and forth in front of his truck, trying to calm himself down. He walked over to the driver’s side. There were a couple of loud blows to the side of the truck just before he got in. I thought something had been thrown and hit the truck. He was clenching and unclenching his hand. I could see his knuckles were red from hitting something and someone.
“Noah, are you okay?”
“Has he hurt you before?” he asked through gritted teeth.
I wasn’t exactly sure how to answer him. Technically, Matt had never hit me. He almost did one time, but he claimed he was just playing.
“He’s never hit me.”
“Has he ever hurt you?”
“Just grabbing my arm a few times too tight, but he was drunk and…”
His chest was rising and falling faster, pumping oxygen in and out of him in short spurts. “Has he ever forced himself on you? Don’t lie to me.”
I hesitated for several seconds before answering. “Yes,” I whispered.
Noah began pounding relentlessly on the steering wheel. Seconds later, he shoved his door open and jumped out. I heard and felt the pounding of metal over and over again while he yelled, “F*ck!!” over and over.
He got back in the truck, turned the ignition, and sped out of the parking lot. Beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead.
“Noah…”
He raised his index finger and said in a low growl, “I can’t talk right now.” The entire hour and a half drive home, he wouldn’t talk to me.
He walked me to the front door. We decided to unload the truck the next day. I desperately tried to think of something to say while I fumbled for my keys.
“Thank you for everything and I’m sorry about…”
“What time is your appointment tomorrow?”
“The MRI is at 10 o’clock and I see the doctor at 3 o’clock.”
“I’ll be over at 8 to unload your stuff. We’ll have plenty of time to get to your appointment.”
“You don’t have to go. Both my parents will be with me.”
“I know I don’t have to go. I want to go. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” He gave me a kiss on the forehead and headed down the steps.
Tomorrow my life will start to change. It will be filled with doctor appointments, diagnostic tests, and hospitals instead of classes and frat parties. I will no longer be Amanda Kelly, journalism major. Instead I will be Amanda Kelly, cancer patient. As I watched Noah drive away, I realized that this was one of the last moments of anything ever being normal in my life.
When you’re diagnosed with a life altering illness, the first few days you walk around shell shocked, not quite believing what a doctor has told you.
After that, there’s a period of time in which you live in a state of limbo. You still feel like your old self, still look the same in the mirror, and you, occasionally, forget for brief periods of time that you are sick.
Once the doctor visits and tests start to become more frequent you turn into a patient with a life altering illness. You start to forget what you felt like before the diagnosis. Each time you look in the mirror, your pre-diagnosis persona starts to disappear and is replaced by a stranger who is sad, scared, tired, and at times wants to give up the fight.
The MRI was a giant colossal suck-tacular, mother sucking, suck fest. The machine looked like an enormous white penis and balls. Well, one ball actually. No doubt an inadequately endowed male invented this machine.
I laid down on the enormous white penis and the tech slid me up into the ball, where I had to lay perfectly still for one hour. When I felt the tech sliding me out, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had never been so happy to get off a penis in all my life.
After the MRI, we had time before my appointment with the oncologist, so we decided to go to lunch. During lunch, my parents, Noah, and I either sat in silence and ate or talked about everything except what was taking place. We were all in a state of limbo, not quite knowing what our roles were or how to act in this new world we found ourselves in.
Once we got to the doctor’s office, we sat in the waiting room for forty-five minutes before being ushered back into his office. I don’t understand why they say to be a half hour early to an appointment when you’re going to make me wait an additional forty-five minutes? I wasn’t going to be a very patient, patient.
Dr. Lang was a middle-aged man, which I liked. I didn’t want some young doctor holding his textbook over me while he figured out where my parts were or where to start cutting. He was a straight talking, no nonsense kind of guy. I wasn’t a patient person, so I liked that. Noah stood in the back of the room, while I sat in front of the doctor’s desk, flanked on either side by my parents.
“Well, I have some good news,” Dr. Lang said while he looked down at my records and results. “There doesn’t seem to be any evidence of cancer elsewhere. Your left leg appears to be the only area affected as of right now.” Four audible deep sighs filled the office. “But there does appear to be infiltration into the surrounding soft tissue. Because of this, I recommend a below knee amputation.”
He looked up right at me, I guess trying to gauge my reaction. I sat there staring back at him. It wasn’t a surprise that this was the recommendation. Before it was a possibility, but now it’s a reality. It took me a moment to adjust. The doctor glanced back down at my records, breaking eye contact with me.
In the short moment that we looked at each other, I could tell he was thinking of his own daughter. I saw a picture of his family on the table right as I walked into his office. He had a daughter, who looked to be almost my age.
“They have come a long way in prosthetic limbs. I’ve seen some that look so real, you wouldn’t even know they weren’t,” he said.
I guess this was the making lemonade out of lemons speech.
I heard my dad clear his throat and ask, “So if it’s just in her left leg, once the…” His voice cracked. He paused for a moment trying to compose himself before he continued. “Once the surgery is done, she’ll be cancer free, right?”
Dr. Lang kept his eyes focused on my file when he answered my dad. “Technically, yes. She’ll still have to go through chemo, though.”
“But if it’s just in her leg, why does she need to go through chemo?” Mom asked.
Dr. Lang looked up and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Kelly, Amanda, and young man.”
“That’s my best friend, Noah,” I said. The doctor nodded in Noah’s direction.
“Amanda has osteosarcoma. It’s a very aggressive form of bone cancer. From what I know about your case, I’d say aggressive is an understatement. Your symptoms came on very quickly. We need to make sure we kill any stray cells that could potentially metastasize to your lungs. The chemo will give us the best chance of stopping that from occurring. I know this is extremely overwhelming. Let’s take it a little at a time. My nurse will get with you about scheduling the surgery and information on amputations and give you a few names of prosthetists in the area.”
“A prosthetist?” I asked.
“They’re the ones who fit you for your new leg,” he explained. “It will be a few weeks before you’ll get fitted for the new leg and start chemo. We want you to heal from the surgery first. Do you have any questions?”
There was too much information coming at us and none of us could think clearly enough to ask anything. I was still trying to process that I was going to have my leg sawed off.
“I’m sure I’ll have a million questions as soon as I walk out the door.” I smiled weakly at him.
He looked at me with his warm brown eyes. “I have a daughter a couple of years younger than Amanda. I’d be beside myself if she got sick. We’re going to do everything we can for you, Amanda.”
“I know.”
He looked hesitant before he continued. “I don’t usually talk to patients about this. I’m saying this because of the type of cancer you have, the type of chemo that you’ll have, and your young age. Most young people don’t think about this type of thing, but Amanda, you may want to go ahead and talk to your parents about what type of arrangements you want, just in case.”
I heard my mom let out a slight gasp.
“I’m going to be staying with my sister, Emily,” I told him. “She lives on the ground floor in an apartment building closer to the hospital. My parent’s house has steps going into it. We figured Emily’s would be a good place to stay.”
As I talked, I noticed the expression on the doctor’s face. I looked over at my mom and then my dad. Their expressions matched the doctor’s.
“He’s not talking about living arrangements, sweetheart,” Dad said.
Then it suddenly dawned on me. He was telling me to start planning my funeral. What’s weird is that it never crossed my mind that I might die. I thought that was always the first thing that popped into a person’s head when they were told they had cancer.
We filed out of the office with a stack of information to read on the type of cancer I had, what to expect from the surgery and after, and names of local leg people. Calling them prosthetists sounded too much like prostitute for my liking.
I wasn’t in the mood to go home right then. My parents hugged and kissed me goodbye, got in their car and drove home. I had never seen them so visibly shaken before. I think we all needed our alone time to deal with this, without trying to keep up the brave pretense.
Noah and I sat in his truck decompressing from the appointment. Out the corner of my eye I could see he was fidgeting, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. It looked like he was about to say something.
“Noah, don’t. I need a little time to process what was said in there.”
“I know. What do you want to do?”
I continued staring straight ahead and said, “Runaway.”
He didn’t respond. He simply started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot.
We drove further into downtown, pulling up to a very nice condo that I didn’t recognize. Noah cut the car off, turned to me, and said, “I’m staying here for a few weeks.”
“It’s nice. Why are you staying here?”
“It’s Carter Perry’s place. I hang out here all the time. He asked me to stay while he was out of town for Christmas. He won’t be back until after New Year’s. It’s great having some privacy,” he said.
“Emily’s place is only a couple of blocks away. You’ll be so close by.”
“I know, funny how it worked out that way.” He smiled at me before getting out of the car. I had a feeling that his staying at this condo wasn’t just a coincidence.
I watched as he walked around to my side of the car and opened the passenger door for me. I placed my hand in his and we walked inside.
It was a very nice two bedroom open floor plan condo. It was a typical guy’s place, sparsely furnished with a huge sofa and flat screen TV. We shrugged out of our coats, tossing them on the sofa.
“Do you want anything to drink or eat?” Noah asked.
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back,” he said.
“Ok.”
I walked over to the large floor to ceiling window and looked out. There was a nice view of the pool, clubhouse, and grilling area. My mind drifted to planning my funeral. What music would I like? What kind of coffin would I want to be in? I wonder if they make yellow coffins. Do they even make different color coffins? I was so engrossed in my thoughts I didn’t hear Noah at first when he came back into the room.
“Tweet, are you sure you don’t want anything?”
I continued to staring out the window. “I don’t want to die.” My voice was so soft and low, like I said it more to myself than to Noah.
There was a slight pause before Noah said, “You’re not going to die.”
He was standing by the kitchen counter, drinking a bottle of water when I turned to face him.
“How do you know?”
“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” he said, just before taking another drink of water.
“But, I do. I need to talk about it with my best friend. I know it’s not easy. We haven’t talked about it at all. Things are going to get bad, and I need you to understand that.”
Lowering his head, he took in a deep breath. I saw his shoulders start to tremble. The next thing I knew a plastic bottle of water was flying through the air, smashing into the wall. He looked up and I saw pain and helplessness in his beautiful blue eyes as they filled with tears. “You don’t think I understand how bad things are? I’m going to be a f*cking orthopedic surgeon one day. You don’t think I know, that if the cancer doesn’t eat you up that, the meds they’re going to pump into your body might do it? You don’t think I’ve read that you have a sixty-five percent chance of surviving five years? For most people, that would be pretty good odds, but not for you. You deserve a one hundred percent guaranteed survival.” Tears were gushing from both of us.
He was standing in front of me in three quick strides. I was pinned to the window as he placed his hands on either side of my face palming my cheeks. Our eyes locked. Our lips were barely touching when he whispered, “I can’t lose you. You’re my everything. Not having you in my life wrecked me before, but not having you in my world would completely destroy me. My purpose is to take care of you and protect you, but there’s nothing I can do to take this away from you. I don’t know how to help you.
“Noah…,” I said breathlessly.
“Please, don’t push me away, Tweet,” he begged.
“I’m not pushing,” I whispered.
My fingers found their way and twisted in his hair. Noah’s hands slid down my body and landed behind the top of my thighs. As he lifted me up, I wrapped my legs securely around his waist. My back was pushed harder against the window with every grind of his hips. I wanted him to take my pain away. I wanted to feel safe and protected like I always did when I was with him. I wanted to feel normal one last time. I’ve never told Noah how much I loved him and I needed to before it was too late.
My chest pressed against his with each rapid breath. We looked into each other’s eyes.
“Noah, I…” Before I could get another word out we heard the front door open and his name being called.
Quickly, I disentangled my hands from his hair and slid down his body, until my feet hit the floor. Running his hands through his hair a few times, Noah stepped away from me a second before Brooke rounded the corner. Seeing me, stopped her in her tracks.
“I didn’t know we were having company.” I found her choice of words odd. This wasn’t even Noah’s place. I didn’t understand how she even got in.
Never taking his eyes off me, Noah said, “Brooke, can you give us a minute, please.”
“No, I can’t,” she said, annoyed.
“Please.”
“Noah, we were supposed to have this place all to ourselves through New Year’s Eve.”
Noah turned on his heels and headed toward Brooke, grabbing her arm, they disappeared into what I assumed was a bedroom.
I was frozen in place. I didn’t know what to do. I could hear them through the door arguing.
“Noah, I’m sorry she’s dying, but she’s not going to use that to come between us and ruin our time here. The world does not revolve around Amanda Kelly.”
“Don’t you ever talk about her like that.”
“I’m not trying to be a bitch. It’s just, this was supposed to be our time. We wouldn’t have to worry about roommates or your mom catching us. That’s what this time was supposed to be…”
Oh my god, they were playing house together over Christmas break. The privacy he was talking about was so he and Brooke could screw each other as much as they wanted.
I hurried out the door as I texted Emily to come pick me up. I walked as quickly and as far away as I could tolerate. I was starting to limp a lot more, due to the pain the cancer was causing. I didn’t think I could handle anymore walking or Noah at the moment.
What was he thinking taking me there? He had to know she would be coming back. I was a second away from telling him how much I loved him and being in his bed. What I heard of their argument about my impending death kept playing on a continuous loop in my head.
Suddenly, a realization hit me. Noah felt sorry for me. He wanted to make me feel better and the only thing he could do was have pity sex with me. Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried to keep my sobs trapped in my throat. I could feel the tremors start to course through my body as I continued to walk until I spotted Emily and she drove me home.
It was time to crawl into my bed, throw the covers over my head, and block out Noah, Brooke, and cancer for now. I knew I would have to deal with each of them soon enough, but right now I needed to shut down.