His mother gave him hell for his new hair; she grounded him, took away his phone and sent him to his room.
That was, until he told him the real reason why he did it. When he did that, she burst into tears.
He called me the weekend after I had dyed the ocean into his hair, asking to meet me on the field where he called my hair golden.
His voice was grave, and when I saw him his eyes held nothing but blank acceptance for something I did not yet know.
"I want - need...I need to tell you why I wanted to do this to my hair." He wouldn't look at me, he sat with his head bowed.
"Not to be daring then?" I tried to lighten to mood, but he didn't respond in kind.
"A couple of weeks ago I noticed something on my shoulder. I went to the doctor about it, I didn't tell you or mum or anyone at the time, I didn't want anyone to worry."
"Something on your shoulder?" I echoed.
He cleared his throat and choked out two words; "a lump."
His words passed through me like a hurricane, laying waste to any attempt at words and crushing my heart in an instant.
"But you're going to be okay," I managed urgently, "right? You're going to be okay?"
He turned to face me then, tears running down his cheeks. "I have 6 months, Alec. 6 months."
I choked on every word my mind throw around my head and my stomach churned so violently I feared I would throw up.
My entire body shook as I wrapped my arms around him, both of us crying softly.
All I could think of while I held him was that, with treatment, he'd begin to wake up and raise his head only to find locks of his beautiful hair left on the pillow.
It did not fully occur to me that he would...in 6 months he would...I couldn't.
It hit me like in oncoming train in those few crushing moments that I was in love, I was so in love with my best friend whose time was spilling like sand through our fingers and into the dark corners of oblivion.
***
"I'm - I'm really sorry, Alec," she said in a painfully professional tone, averting her eyes from mine.
"I don't want your fucking fake condolences."
