“I had Helen roll my bed near the window, so I could watch him mow the lawn. He looks a lot like Chris Hemsworth, I think. Sans the Thor lady hair.”
“Maybe you can do a number eleven on yourself then.”
“I’m being watched too closely to play with myself. Speak of the devil. Helen just walked in with my med cocktail. Gotta go.”
“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked.
“Hopefully.” She signed off.
I hadn’t thought of Becca back at school so soon. Would the school year veer into semi-standard territory? It was hard to remember a time when life felt anything but abnormal.
I spent the following morning at school looking over my shoulder for Becca. I saw Leo once, and he gave me a smileless wave, not unfriendly but on his way to somewhere. He caught me on my way to lunch. “You feel like… hanging out?” At that point, it was unclear if “hanging out” meant just hanging out or taking each other’s clothes off while surrounded by books.
“I can’t today. Becca said she might come to school, so I want to stay visible.” I guess I answered my own question as to where we’d end up.
“Is Becca well enough to come to school?” Leo asked, concerned.
“I have no idea. She seems to think so.”
“Oh.” Leo remembered something and dug into his front pocket. “Here.” He handed me a key, similar to the one he used to open the book closet door. “I got you one.” I turned the key over in my hand, wondering what exactly it meant. My face must have revealed something because Leo said, “Damn, it’s not an engagement ring. I just thought maybe you’d like a key in case you wanted to go in there when I’m not around. No need to get all disturbed.”
“I’m not disturbed.”
“You kind of are,” Leo pushed.
“Don’t you have a class to go to?”
“Not really. But I’ll find one to get away from you.” He was messing with me, but he still walked away.
“Thanks for the key,” I called after him.
“Sure,” he called back.
Becca arrived while I sat at the lunch table with Damien, Eliza, and Brandon. She had on a striped winter hat, covering up her bald head. She walked slowly toward the table, and already I thought she looked thinner. Maybe it was her coloring. As she walked, a myriad of people came up to her to chat. I watched with a protective glare. Who were they to talk to my best friend before I did? I stood up and pushed past several of her fans. I grabbed her arm, then let my grip go soft when I realized how frail she seemed. We walked together to the lunch table, and Becca said, “I feel like a celebrity. Now I know I have to get famous someday.” It was nice to hear her talk about the future as if she’d be alive.
Damien, Eliza, and Brandon bombarded Becca with hugs and questions, and I let her soak in the attention. At least it was people I liked and knew, not just cancer groupies.
At the end of lunch, Becca asked if I would walk her to the drama room so she could talk to Ms. Richards. She held my arm and waved with her free hand to her adoring audience. I almost punched Jenna in the face when she stopped us to squeal at Becca’s presence. I pushed to keep moving, and Jenna faded into the hallway crowd. Before we managed to make it to the drama room, Becca’s legs gave out. I held her up as best as I could, but my size wasn’t helping me. In an instant, I felt her weight lift off me, and there Leo was holding up her other side.
“Are you okay?” I asked. I felt like I was always asking that.
“Can you take me to the nurse? I need to lie down for a minute.” She sounded panicked. Then she puked, not a ton, but a dribble down the front of her shirt. I waited for Leo to make a grossed-out comment, but he just carried her along as though nothing happened.
“Sorry.” Becca coughed.
As we walked through the halls, the same people who fawned over Becca minutes ago were now gawking at her like she had a disease. Which she did, although nothing they could catch. In fact, the crowd of people and their hordes of germs were much more dangerous to Becca than she could ever be to them.
When we got to the nurse’s office, Leo carried Becca over to a plastic bed. The nurse called Becca’s mom, and I pulled some tissues from a box and helped Becca clean off her face and chin.
“Thank you,” she said. “My hero. And this is Leo?” So Becca—even when she’s wiping puke from her chin, she’s thinking about me and a guy.
“Yeah. Becca, Leo. Leo, Becca,” I introduced them.
“Nice to meet you,” Leo said formally. “I’ll let you two have a moment.” He backed out of the nurse’s office.
“Well, that sucked,” Becca said when Leo was gone.
“It wasn’t that bad. You could have projectile-vomited.”
“All over Jenna’s face,” Becca said dreamily.
“So it could’ve been better is what you’re saying.”
The nurse came back into the room. “Becca, your mom will be here shortly. Can I get you anything?”
“No thank you.” Becca spoke with a sickeningly sweet baby voice reserved for doted-on patients.
“Do you need a pass, Alex?” Mrs. Kafcas knew me well from the era during freshman year when I had strep three times. She was nice and helpful and generous with the passes.
“Sure,” I answered.
She ripped a pass off her pad and scribbled her signature. “You fill out the time when Becca’s mom arrives.”
Becca closed her eyes, and her breathing became even.
“Why don’t you let her get some rest?” Mrs. Kafcas whispered. I could’ve sat there with sleeping Becca until her mom came, but that meant talking to her mom again. I wasn’t up for the sad parent. I walked out and closed the door to the nurse’s office quietly. Leaning against the wall nearby was Leo.
“She going to be okay?” he asked. I shrugged.
“Can we go somewhere?” I pressed, and he knew exactly where I meant.
When we arrived in the book closet, Leo sat down on a desk. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“That’s the exact opposite of what I want. I just want to feel good.” I looked at Leo. He walked over to me, put his hands around my back, and made sure of just that.
CHAPTER 19
BECCA AND I SKYPED the minute I got home from school. She sat engulfed in her pillow mound looking far less green than when I last saw her. “So that was—” she started.
“Putrescent,” I finished.
“Thank you for sugarcoating things.”
“You know you can count on me for that,” I joked. “How are you feeling?”
“I wish you didn’t have to keep asking me that.”
“Sorry. But you did throw up, and my gallant guy-dude-friend-thing did have to help carry you through the halls.”
“You still won’t call him your boyfriend? What’s that about? And did he think I was gross?”
“He didn’t mention your grossness, at least not to me.”
“Again, I feel so much better. And what about the boyfriend factor?” she prodded. While her words were on the normal side, her face looked pained.
“Who has time for a boyfriend? All that pathetic sexting and going on dates and meeting parents and proms and shit. I’m too busy taking care of you. Speaking of, is Helga in the room with you?”
“Helen. And, no, her knitting needles were driving me crazy.”
