10 Things: A Cody Simpson Fan Fiction

Fifteen

          Haven’t you heard of the fact that when someone close to you hides something from you, it could only mean one thing with two possibilities? One: It’s something big and positive. Two: It’s something big and negative. I don’t know which one she was hiding, but I sure as hell know that it isn’t something small or she would’ve long told me so.

          And I know as a cover up, she had been lying to me. I knew it all along, I just wanted to know when she was going to finally stop and let me know the truth; it’s why I reminded her of the fact that I hate liars, and the fact that lies never last.

          My fingers curled themselves into my palms forming a clenched fist, before I released the pressure. I’m not a violent guy; I never was. But at this moment, I was nervous. Or anxious, you may say, so anxious that my palms were beginning to sweat (something that I hate sometimes) and I couldn’t do anything else but clench my fists. I’m going to talk to Merinda. But I know she’s going to jump at any chance to prevent hearing that question so I’d most likely just skip to the point without beating around the bush and apologize.

          Words can’t even describe how bad I feel for ignoring her the past couple of days.

          I walked up to her door and placed a hand lightly above the doorknob, drawing in a deep breath. It’s late, maybe she’s asleep. Maybe she’s tired. Maybe she doesn’t want to see my face. I should do this tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next next day.

          It would all be favorable if possible. But no, this has to be gotten over with at one point or another. Besides, I know Merinda doesn’t sleep at eleven. She always sleeps at one on the dot. I pushed the door open slightly, expecting it to be closed, but what intrigued me was the fact that I’d managed to push it forward a little bit.

          Why didn’t she close it?

          Maybe she forgot.

          I don’t know.

          I should knock, shouldn’t I? Oh, God, I feel bad. I should close the door again before knocki―

          “Mom, everything’s okay!” I suddenly heard Merinda’s angelic voice at the other end of the room, behind this door that’s diving us apart. I should stop eavesdropping, but something deep down inside of me wouldn’t let me. I grounded my teeth as a frown slowly formed on my forehead. I was battling against my conscience. What’s going on here?

          To whatever’s about to happen, I have a strong feeling in my gut, telling me that it wouldn’t be good. Again, I just have to―why.

          “Yes, Mom, I’m sure. Everything’s going perfect, too. Cody and I are stronger than ever,” she paused, hinting no emotion at all that pretty much broke a little piece of my heart for that was actually a lie. I know, it’s a kind lie to hide the truth, but… That’s just wrong, from all that I’d gathered. I know deep down that I’ve hurt her too, and bad, which was wrong of me but I admitted it, didn’t I?

          “Cody’s doing well, too! But, um, how are you doing? You coping well alone?” She carried on asking, this time sounding genuine about her question. I rested my forehead against the doorframe, squeezing my eyes shut. I tried shrugging the bad feeling inside of me away as I did.

          “Well, that’s amazing to know! Tell her that, even though I’ve been running to the toilet more often these couple of days, I’m doing just fine so no worries.” My ears perked up at her latter words, while my eyes flew open at the thoughts that were beginning to flood my empty mind. Oh, God. This isn’t happening. This is happening, a voice at the back of my throat scared me, making me gulp hard.

          The truth is about to be exposed.

          My heart was begin to race as I pushed the door a little wider, gradually becoming more desperate than a second before. Shit.

          “Mom, I’m fine,” she paused for some reason, making me squeeze my eyes shut. “The cancerous cells aren’t spreading that bad.”

          I froze.

          My limbs were becoming numb and I couldn’t move at all. Hell, my brain couldn’t even function properly, because, what the hell did I just…

          Merinda has cancer.

          Merinda has cancer.

          How is that possible? But, that’s not even it. How is it possible that, that thought hadn’t once came into mind? Was it because of the fact that she had been looking perfectly healthy most of the time? Sure, I’d earlier assumed that she was sick; she had a problem, but cancer? That’s just― no, that’s just― someone flawless isn’t meant to be mixed with something dangerous.

          My baby girl has cancer, and I’d ignored her for days instead of taking care of her, what in the f―I gave my head a quick shake before pushing the door open slowly after regaining my balance and feels in my body, revealing a little figure curled up under the covers at the corner of the bunk.

          My heart wasn’t whole anymore, it was crushed; in bits; empty. I felt so sad? I felt so bad―no words, not even actions; nothing can describe how I felt at the moment. I felt so empty, I felt so lost, I felt so… I didn’t even know how to feel? I stared at her neutral, natural expression as she carried on speaking with her Mom on the phone, trying to comprehend why she didn’t want to tell me something so serious.

          Did she not want to hurt me? Because the truth hurts so much more and that she thinks I wouldn’t be able to take it? Sure, I’ll say now that I’m on the verge of breaking down but for her, I would stay strong, if, she had told me.

          But she kept it to herself, and now the truth hurts more than anything in the world. I’m a lousy boyfriend. I’m the worst. I didn’t push it on. If I had continued pushing her for the truth, she would’ve told me. I bet that at a time, she was close to telling me―wanna know when? When she wanted to tell me a story. That moment. If Scooter hadn’t called me at the wrongest time in the world, I would’ve gotten to know the truth earlier.

          I could’ve arranged for chemotherapy sessions earlier. I could’ve made everything better for her, and for me. I could’ve done everything earlier. Maybe even, she would’ve stopped suffering so badly earlier.

          This was my entire fault.

          As much as I’d love to get mad at the fact that she’d hidden something painfully colossal, the sadness overwhelming me just makes that impossible.

          “Mom, I’m tired. And you should rest, too, it’s getting late,” she yawned over her last word, making my eyes water. Actually, scratch that. It watered the moment she said―know what, I’m not even going to say it again. It’s pointless and it does more harm.

          But I just wished she’d tell me that in person instead of hiding it for such a long period.

          I drew in a deep breath, taking a small step back before drying my eyes so that if I were to go in to her bunk the next minute, it wouldn’t look like I had tears in my eyes. I don’t even think I can contain my tears longer if I just took another glance at her from here, so how am I to speak to her face-to-face?

          All I want to do is hold her close and tight, and tell her much I love her without sounding weak.

          But we all know it’s impossible.