Thorne walks over to me, standing just before Dad. “We can make you as comfortable as possible if that’s what you decide, Emery. If you want to talk to your family further about this, make sure you press the button once a choice has been made and I’ll come back in. Okay?”
I’m not sure if I nod or answer, but he leaves Dad and I alone. Once the door is closed behind him, Dad shoots up.
“You are not dying.”
“I am.”
“Emery—”
“Dad!” My teeth grind. “You heard him. My heart isn’t going to take well to the treatment. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to. I’m going to die. Lo knew it right before she passed away, and I know it too.”
The calmness washing over me.
The lack of tears.
“It’s about how,” I continue, trying to make myself sound stronger than I am. “I don’t want to keep suffering, Dad. The hassle of trying to readjust my medicine for the billionth time is pointless. The meds should have reduced the inflammation to begin with. And…and it wouldn’t matter if we tried waiting it out and you know it.”
He palms his face, shaking his head and attempting to even his breathing. “I just got you back, Em.”
I simply nod.
“I just…” Tears overwhelm him.
Feelings.
Reality.
Acceptance.
“We got a year, Daddy.”
“It’s not enough.”
There’s a knock on the door.
“Sunshine?”
Mama.
Chapter Forty-One
There’s a rainbow arched over the small patch of trees outside the hospital. I don’t get to see all the bright colors because my view is obscured from the wheelchair I sit in by the large window. I’m nowhere near eye level from where the glass sits, and the brick building hides part of the calling card I know Lo left for me.
Mama sat with me and cried for hours last night while Dad watched from the cot someone brought in. It looks more uncomfortable than my bed, which I tell Thorne they need to consider changing. It’s bad enough patients have to deal with additional discomfort, but families shouldn’t have to.
He told me he’d bring it up to someone.
I doubt he will.
Kaiden was missing in action until eight this morning. I’d fallen back asleep but never stayed in unconsciousness long. Between nurses coming in and out, Dad whispering to Mama, and Mama hissing arguments like I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t get settled.
There was an elephant in the room taking up the open space that wasn’t occupied by expensive machines and my upset parents.
I’m unsettled because I know this is it.
I can’t sleep because I’m afraid of never waking up. Just like Lo. Her body was so still when Mama came in to check on her. I’d woken up to Mama’s loud cries as she kneeled beside Lo, holding her stiff, unmoving hand.
Her eyes had been closed.
Peaceful.
Sleeping eternally.
When Kaiden showed back up, he was wearing jeans, a tee, and his letterman jacket. His feet were shoved into a pair of his favorite blue sneakers that were some fancy brand made by an ex-basketball player, which was a step in the right direction from the bare feet he sported the night before. He and Cam brought back Dad a change of clothes, so he could finally get out of the pajamas he’s worn since we arrived.
I spent that time pretending to sleep and listening to Mama and Dad argue about my wellbeing. They were trying to figure out what to do next, how to move forward. It was only when I finally opened my eyes that they painted smiles on their faces and acted like they weren’t trying to figure out how to convince me to try fighting.
Internally, I scoff.
I’ve been fighting for years. I fought for Mama’s attention. For her affection. To fit in. I’ve fought against my ill feelings toward Dad. The way I resented Lo for leaving me.
I fight myself every single day.
I fight to pretend I’m fine.
To admit I’m not.
To survive.
So, I tell them both they can’t change my mind. What’s done is done. All the times I’ve been denied by professionals. Criticized by peers. Questioned by relatives. I’m not fighting anyone anymore.
It’s too late, don’t you get it?
Mama had to walk out. Her body shook so bad I thought she’d faint. Dad stayed in my room and just watched me in silence. He wants to say something, to argue, to make a point.
He’s learned by now that there is none.
He’s gotten to know me.
He’s figured me out.
Like when I tell Cam that asparagus sounds good for dinner, but then he sneakily slips it off my plate onto his when she’s not looking because he knows I don’t like it.
Or when I scrunch my face at something he chooses to watch on TV at night and he switches it to something everyone would like.
He asks about Kaiden.
We’re friends. Best friends.
Because it’s true.
Kaiden Monroe made everything bearable. School. Home. He turned out to be the person I could trust enough to share my firsts. In my eyes, he was my only true ally. I lived thinking I wouldn’t experience what it felt like to be cherished because my body was too depleted by my health. Kaiden gave me everything I couldn’t think of asking for before moving to Exeter.
Dad didn’t seem to buy it.
But he didn’t question it either.
Because he called me Mouse once.
Now Kaiden is pushing me along the hall with Dad and Cam trailing behind. Mama and Grandma went to get food in the cafeteria, giving us time together as I stared at the rainbow and its pretty pastel colors.
The dull ache in my body is tolerable because of the medicine they pumped through me first thing this morning. There’s feeling in my right side that seems promising in the grand scheme of things. I can process my words and talk without too much hassle. Despite the nurses giving me sympathetic smiles and Dr. Thorne asking me how I am every hour, I’m okay.
Okay as I can be.
Calm. Relaxed. Realistic.
Much to the dismay of my parents, I convinced Kaiden to get me the rest of my schoolwork in order to finish junior year. After quiet arguments in between nurse and doctor checkins, Dad relented and called the school asking if I could take my remaining exams in the hospital. The school, even the poor disorganized Principal Richman, knew they had no place to deny me a simple favor.
How many other people wanted to spend their time in a hospital bed filling in bubble sheets and calculating statistics? I only knew about one statistic that mattered, and I’d accepted it. The answers I scrawled across my paper, while seemingly unimportant, allowed me the mundane normalcy I needed even now. Even considering…
Everyone helped me when fogginess made me forget how to put together my words. Dad would put in numbers in his phone’s calculator app so I could write down the answer on my math exam. Mama would read aloud a poem so many times I’m sure the elderly lady next door could recite it by heart. Grandma would try helping me figure out a chemistry question based on the diagram, and Kaiden drew pictures on the notepad provided by Thorne. He said there’s no art final, but he wanted to cheer me up. So, every ten minutes I’d get a new image on my lap, distracting me from my homework. A mouse. A pill bottle with a penis drawn where the prescription would be—that one I hid from my parents though Grandma saw it and snickered.