Always and Forever (7 page)

I bit my lip, considered, and then pulled more clothes out to send them in her direction. “Just…you know…making room.”

Ricki brightened at that. “Getting a whole new wardrobe for Christmas?” Her eyes rounded at the endless style possibilities she'd have with all her clothes, my old ones, and the new ones she imagined I'd be getting. It was like Christmas, Easter, and her birthday all rolled into one.

I just couldn't bring myself to burst her bubble yet, so I settled on a shrug as an adequate enough response.

She clapped her hands. Excitement radiated off her in electric waves of anticipation. “Ooh, I so can't wait.” She hopped off the bed and leaped toward the closet, knocking me out of the way. “Don't worry. I'll help you weed out your closet, make room for what's to come.”

I backed away from her, chuckling under my breath. There was the Ricki I knew and loved. As she tossed clothes onto the bed, pulling out all the things she'd always loved, she chattered on about her day, her parents, and Adam. I only half-listened to her ramblings as I put the rest of the room back in order from my little temper tantrum earlier.

“I mean, I love him and all, but I just don't think I want to be tied down in a relationship anymore,” Ricki said when I picked up my laptop.

“What?” I whirled around, confused since I hadn't caught what she said just before that declaration.

She looked up from the blue skirt she was holding, her face twisted in that
you mean to tell me you weren't listening to every single word that came out of my mouth
look of hers that never failed to make me feel properly chastised.

“Did you just tell me that you're breaking up with Adam?” I plowed on. “Ricki, that boy is in love with you! It'll kill him.”

“Oh, don't be so melodramatic. He'll be just fine.”

“But why?” I asked, confused. “Why would you want to break up with him? I'm sorry, Ricki, but I just don't get it. He loves you, and you love him.”

“Yeah, well,” she frowned and hung the skirt back in the closet. “I'm not so sure about that.”

“Not so sure about what?” This was all just too much to process. Adam and Ricki had been a couple since eighth grade. They were the gold standard of commitment. Every year in the school's mock elections, they were voted most likely to be married for 75 years. None of this conversation made any sense to me. It was as if my entire world was crumbling down around me. What was she going to tell me next? That after graduation, she planned on having gender reassignment surgery and would be changing her name from Erica to Richard?

“Don't look at me like that,” she grumbled. “This is why I haven't said anything to you before now. You just don't understand what it takes to be in a relationship like mine. I know you think Adam is great, and he is, but well…” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug that wasn't the least bit apologetic. “I just want more.”

“I don't—” I was at a loss here. Speechless.

“Understand, I know. It's okay, Mia. Really.” She held a pair of jeans up for inspection. “But you will. Once you and Kal have been together for a couple years, you'll see what I'm saying. Speaking of,” she added as she tossed the jeans onto the ever-growing pile of things she'd be taking home with her. “You still haven't told me what happened today.”

I frantically wracked my brain for something, anything to say in response. “Well…” Thankfully, a soft knock on the door saved me.

The door slid open a few inches, and Kal poked his head in. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I breathed. My whole body sagged with relief at seeing him.

He slipped into the room but stopped short when he saw the state of things. “What's all this?” he asked. His eyes darkened with worry. “Is everything alright?”

“We're cleaning out Mia's closets,” Ricki shouted from inside my closet.

Startled, Kal shot a questioning look my way before he turned and walked over to where Ricki was robbing me of every last article of clothing I owned. “And, you, being the good friend that you are, decided to do all the heavy lifting?”

She rolled her eyes and snorted. “That about sums it up. What about you, loverboy? Did you miss Mia so much that you had to come right over and see her again before she went to bed? Or were you planning on spending the night?” She giggled knowingly and disappeared back into my closet. Really, it was a miracle I still had clothes left in there for her to pilfer.

Up went one dark brow in question, but before he could open his mouth to speak, I grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him toward the bathroom. “Uh, Ricki? I just need to talk to Kal for a minute. We'll be right back.” I told her.

The only response I got was a loud grunt, and more clothes tumbled out of the closet.

Inside the bathroom, I shut, locked, and then leaned against the door. Kal stared at me for an unending minute and then very quietly said, “Mind telling me what that was all about?”

“You don't even want to know,” I groaned. When he still said nothing, I relented. “Ricki has it in her mind that you and I didn't go to visit your grandmother today. That we were out.
Together
.”

He choked, crimson splashing across his cheeks. He cleared his throat loudly. “Is there a reason why she's suddenly so obsessed with our love life?”

My insides went all hot and tingly at his words. My heart pounded against my ribcage with the heaviest sledgehammer at the way
our love life
rolled off his tongue as if he expected us to eventually have
one. As if we'd be together always and forever. Not just friends but lovers, too.

As if I had that kind of time.

“Well, I'm not quite sure, but—” I started to explain about her and Adam but stopped short. Ricki definitely wouldn't want Kal to know the dirty details about her relationship problems.

He waved off my words. “Never mind about that. What about you?” His eyes burned so hot that for a minute there, all I could do was just stare I was so lost in his gaze. “Mia,” he prodded, “what did the doctors say?”

“What?” I shook my head, forcing my thoughts back on Kal's words and not the way his coffee-colored locks fell into his eyes or the way his lips moved when he talked, especially as he said my name. “Oh, yeah…that.” I forced a broad grin across my face. “I'm fine.”

“Really? You're okay?” He rolled the words around on his tongue, testing them, measuring the weight of truth there. Did he see the lie in my eyes? Hear the dishonesty in my voice? “You're not dying?”

I swallowed, pushing the smile out even wider as I assured him, “Not of cancer.”

His answering grin was quick and bright, blindingly so. He let out a whoop and caught me up in his arms, crushing me to him. “Oh, Mia,” he breathed against my ear, squeezing tighter. “That is so…” He pulled back, kissed me—a very brief, chaste peck on the lips that shot straight through me like a bolt of lightning—and then yanked me back in so he could bury his face in my hair. “It's so
wonderful
. I can't…I can't even find the words. That's how great this is.”

“I know,” I whispered, cringing inside.
What did I just do
?

He leaned back again and rested his forehead against mine, our noses rubbing together. His eyes slid closed, his lips still spread in that triumphant grin. “You don't even know how worried I was, Mia,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was so sure we'd have bad news to deal with. I was so afraid you'd tell me you were dying. That I was going to lose you.” He choked out a sob. Tears were sliding copiously down his face, his eyes still squeezed shut. “It was a terrible feeling, the thought of being without you. I don't mind admitting to that now that I know you're okay.”

Guilt speared through me as his last words sunk in.
Now that I know you're okay.
“You'd be okay,” I told him. “If I was sick, you'd be alright. Just like the last time, with the leukemia. You handled it all just fine.”

Was I trying to reassure him or me?

He laughed softly and shook his head. “I wasn't okay, then, Mia. Pretty fucking far from it, actually. And, this is nowhere near the same as back then. This would've been so much worse.” He opened his eyes and leaned in to brush his lips gently against mine. “It would've killed me,” he murmured into my mouth. “Life without you.”

“Kal,” I sighed, my resolve wavering. I couldn't lie to him. I had to tell him. Everything. “Kal, I—”

“What are you two doing in there?” Ricki demanded, pounding on the door. “I don't hear any sex sounds, and I can't believe that Mia would be all that quiet, unless you're doing something wrong, Kal.”

We both groaned in response. “Just give us one more minute, Ricki,” Kal returned. He turned his attention back to me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Knowing her, she'll be inspecting you for hickeys when we come out.”

I couldn't help but laugh at his disgruntled tone. Ricki banged on the door again. I groaned inwardly but stepped away from Kal. “Alright. Alright,” I grumbled. “We're coming out.”

As I reached out for the knob, Kal caught my hand and squeezed. I lifted my gaze to meet his and found sheer joy there. I couldn't tell him the truth now. It would shatter him. I just couldn't destroy him like that.

I was already sinking. I wouldn't drag him down with me.

N
INE

EXHAUSTION PULLED AT ME,
working hard to drag me down deep, but sleep continued to be an elusive, sneaky creature. Hours of tossing, turning, and staring at the miniscule cracks in the ceiling left my body even more leaden, but my mind was racing, jumping back and forth between worry and anger, desperation and rage.

I would not die of cancer. That's all there was to it. The. End.

I threw off the covers, launched myself out of bed, and padded to the door. I slowly eased it open and listened, breath held as I waited to make sure the coast was clear. Then, I made my escape.

Downstairs, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and crept into the living room but stopped short when I realized that I was not the only one up and wandering the house in the dead of night.

Mom looked up and smiled through the thick veil of tears that turned her eyes glassy in the dim light. She patted the cushion beside her. “Come and sit with me, baby,” she commanded in that soft
mom will always love you so don't be scared
tone of hers she'd perfected when I was still little.

There was no question that I'd do just that. I shuffled over to her side, curled up on the sofa, and rested my head on her shoulder. She, in turn, slid her arm around me and shifted the blanket that covered her legs so I could scoot under it, too.

“What are you doing?” I asked after a long moment of silence.

She shrugged, tapped the brightly colored book in her lap. “Just reading. I didn't want to wake up your father. He has an early
meeting.” Her voice was raspy, hard gravel slipping out of her and rolling over me. Her pain embedded itself in my skin.

“He works hard,” I whispered because anything louder would've betrayed just how much her hurt affected me, and I couldn't be the broken, faded girl. I had to be strong, show everyone how I could survive.

“He does,” she agreed. We dropped off into a tense quiet, the air thick with our combined grief, hers for the loss of a child and mine for the loss of, well, everything.

After what seemed like centuries, I broke through the silent wall between us. “Mom?”

“Yes, Mia?”

“I don't…I mean…” I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. She didn't push me, just waited patiently for me to finish gathering my thoughts. “I just want things to be normal for a little while. I don't want to be the living dead girl.”

Her arms tightened around me; her body trembled against mine as she fought the flood of more tears and lost. “I know, sweetheart,” she sniffled in my ear. “I know.”

In that moment, I wanted to confess my plans to her, reassure her that she wouldn't have to watch her only daughter wither and waste away to nothing. I'd take care of that for her. No slow, torturous demise that would eat my family alive. No. It would be over quickly and relatively painlessly for all involved. Save them all the heartache of watching the cancer slowly devour me from the inside out. I'd make sure of that.

But I told her none of this. Instead, I hugged her closer and listened to her quiet sobs. I let them wash over me until her sorrow became my determination.

I would end this. All her pain. All their suffering. And, I would do it sooner rather than later.

*   *   *

By the time I rolled out of bed and stumbled down to the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, Mom and Dad had already left for work. Ben sat at the table, staring morosely into his bowl of cereal.

“Morning,” I mumbled. I trudged over to the coffee pot that thankfully still held enough brew for me to have a cup. “What's on the agenda for today?”

He just shrugged, but didn't lift his gaze from the soggy mess.

I slid into the seat next to him and watched him carefully as I sipped the coffee. “Okay, spill,” I commanded, gently.

He shook his head. “It's nothing,” he muttered, hunched even more over his cereal in an effort to shield himself from interrogation.

“Ben,” I pressed. I unwrapped one hand from around my mug and reached out to squeeze his hand. “Tell me.”

He shook his head again, but a sob burst free of his tightly compressed lips. The moment it was out, his whole body dissolved into a quivering mass of dejection. His hands fell to his sides. His shoulders slumped even more. His head hung, and his hair fell forward to form a protective shield around him.

“Ben,” I groaned. His pain seared through me, branding me with the knowledge that this was all my fault. I scooted my chair over and tugged him into my arms. “Everything's going to be okay, Benji. I promise.”

“You're dying, aren't you?” he whispered brokenly.

I stiffened. My whole body went cold. They'd promised! “W-W-Why would you ask that?”

He pulled away, pinned me with an accusing glare, his face screwed into a pained grimace. “It's true, isn't it?” he demanded.

Taken aback by his anger—anger that should have been owned solely by me and no one else—I frantically scrounged around for the right words, the lie that he'd readily believe and came up empty-handed. “Is that what they told you?”