Finishing Crazy

Finishing Crazy(9)

I take a sip of my Shirley temple and look up at Bryan.

As his eyes meet mine I can see they’re filled with concern. I quickly look back down at my drink, trying to avoid whatever question he’s about to ask me, but with no such luck.

“Kyra, what are you stressed about?” Bryan asks me.

I hesitate for a moment before answering.

“Two weeks…” I say, because that’s all I can manage without my voice catching.

Bryan gets up from the opposite side of the table and takes our food to the circle booth we sat at the first time we came here together. We’re back at Fuddruckers because I’ve been too sick to bike for the past two days and I’ve been dying to talk to Bryan in person.

I follow him and he sits down right next to me so that our shoulders are touching. I’m so stressed, though, that it doesn’t make much of an impression on me.

Two weeks.

That’s how long I have to get a new kidney. If I don’t get one within that time, then the cancer will progress too far for them to save me. There’s no way I’m going to get one- this is something I already know- it’s only logical. The waiting list for kidney transplants is miles long. Most people that are on it will end up dying without one, and I’ll be joining them sometime in the future. I just know it.

Besides, even if I do get a new kidney, my chances of survival aren’t a hundred percent. The odds are against me.

Bryan reaches for my hand and takes it in his, and my pulse speeds up considerably. I can feel my face color slightly as he refuses to look away until I make eye contact. When I finally do look up again, though, he’s smiling.

“I like you, Kyra.” He says.

I take a breath in quickly and try to make my facial expression as composed as possible.

I knew this, deep down, I knew this. It was obvious that in the past few weeks he’s been so much more caring than before. He notices more things about me than he used to. He’s more curious about what I like and what I do and where I’ve been, but I didn’t expect him to just tell me all of the sudden.

This whole time I’ve been telling myself that he’s just being a little friendlier, and I think for the most part I believed myself- but another part of me, the part of me who may just like him back, told me that it was more than just being friendly. I didn’t listen, but I should have. Maybe if I had been thinking about it more than I would have my response ready for a situation like this…

He senses my hesitancy. “That’s why I helped you, that one day in choir, when you were crying… I’ve cared about you for a long time, Kyra.”

I like him as a friend, and possibly a little more than that too, but he can’t like me. It’s not fair. I can’t let him get more attached to me when there’s a strong possibility that one day I’m not going to be around anymore. If there’s one thing that I’m going to make sure doesn’t happen, it’s Bryan getting hurt by me when I’m not even here.

I hang my head and look at our hands together. It feels so good, but I have to let it go.

“You can’t.” I tell him sadly.

“Why not?” He asks, confused.

“I… we both know that my chances of living a long life are… slim.” I feel tears running down my cheeks and I can’t stop them. When I look up at Bryan, he looks sad.

He reaches out the hand not holding mine and gently wipes away my tears.

“I know. But it doesn’t change the fact that I like you.” He whispers.

“Bryan, we can’t… I can’t…”

“We don’t have to do anything about it… I just had to let you know.” He says, but he sounds a little hurt.

I look up at him remorsefully.

“I want to.” I say. “But at the same time, I can’t. We have too much to loose. We’ll get too attached and then I’ll… I’ll die. And you’ll be here, alone.”

“I’ll be okay.” He says.

“No, Bryan.” I tell him firmly, letting go of his hand.

“No?”

“I can’t leave this Earth knowing that I’m causing you pain. I can’t lead you on only to be cut off. I’m not going to do it. I’m going to leave this life with all of the pain I can handle.” I say.

“Kyra, people are going to miss you whether you want them to or not.” He counters.

“But I don’t want them to! I don’t!” I say, raising my voice and breaking down into uncontrollable sobs.

Before I can stop him, Bryan pulls me into him, stroking my hair as I cry all over his shirt, leaving tear stains in blotches on the dark blue cotton. I begin to calm down a little, my sobs reducing to silent tears as I listen to his heartbeat- firm and steady. Soothing.

Bryan says soft words of encouragement until he can coax me out of hiding in his shirt, but I don’t want to. I want to hide from the world forever in there. It’s so much better than facing all my problems.

Eventually, I have to stop hiding, though, and when I do, Bryan is looking at me with a strange emotion I can’t read or even recognize.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” He repeats. “I shouldn’t have told you I like you. You’ve got enough to worry about, and I’m only making things worse. You’re right.”

“Bryan, I didn’t mean that-“ I begin, but he holds up his hand to cut me off.

“No, Kyra. I understand… just, try and forget about it, okay?”

His tone of voice is masked, but I can sense the hurt and defeat underneath it.

Unlike most boys, he’s not going to bring it up again. Most guys don’t know what “no” means, but I know Bryan respects me enough to not tell me again. From now on until the end of our lives, until I decide otherwise, we’ll be friends and he’ll lay off the subject altogether.

We’ll probably even stop talking as much. Things will get a little more tense than they were before. It’s not going to be the same now, not ever. Those carefree biking days are over.

So when he tells me “forget about it,” I don’t.

And part of me doesn’t want to.