Letting you go [COMPLETE]

Chapter 23

"You're stressing, dad. Stop. I'm okay," I say, smiling gently.

"For now. Remember last time? It started out as a headache and then we almost lost you. I'm not even talking about the school incident, because I don't even want to think about it. You know your limits, and I need you to realise when something is about to happen."

I nod. "I promise dad. I'll be okay."

"I know honey. I'm just worried." Dad shakes his head, pulling me into his side. Kissing the top of my head, he says, "And you look beautiful honey. If your boyfriend doesn't see that, then he doesn't deserve you."

The term boyfriend is a giant maybe. "You're being so calm about this."

Dad shakes his head. "Trust me, I want nothing more than to go in there and interrogate your boyfriend. But I'm not going to put your health in danger, just because I don't know if he's good enough for you. As soon as I know you're okay though . . . prepare him sweetheart. I'm not going to stop until I know he deserves you."

"He's great dad. If anything it's the other way round—he deserves someone better than me." Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, I look at the red ultra-violet number. 3:20. "Dad, I have to go inside. I've been sitting her for ten minutes already. James is waiting."

Dad lets me go with a frown. "You'll call?"

I nod with severity. "Yes. I swear. I've got my oxygen machine, I should be fine."

"Go inside. Have some fun. I'll be here at six thirty."

Flashing him a fleeting smile, I open the car door. Kicking it open with my foot, I lift my oxygen machine and put it on the grass below us. "I will. Love you, dad."

"Love you, too. Now go, I have to deal with your brother. He's going to make me listen to him as he explains all the comics you brought him."

I jump down onto the grass, glancing back at dad. "I had to buy him something. At least he likes them—I was worried he'd hate them."

Dad just shakes his head, grinning at me. "Bye, sweetheart."

*

Before I can even reach the front door, James' mum greets me with a smile, as she opens the screen door wide. "Hi. How are you?"

"Good," I say, stepping into the house. Leaving my thongs, I put the on the shoe rack. The front entrance of the house is just as clean as it was yesterday. Compared to my house, it's like a display home. My house always has random things scattered on the floor. The kitchen is the only room that stays clean. In a house with two teenage boys, I expect to see some mess.

Of course, I haven't seen any bedrooms yet. I doubt they're spotless—clothes probably littered around the floor. My room is never clean. There's always a book lying around the room, most days a few of them.

"James is in his room, if you're looking for him. Do you know how to get there?"

I shrug, lifting my oxygen machine onto the tiles. I can't help but wonder how much his mum knows about yesterday. "It shouldn't be too hard."

She laughs, smiling at me. There's sympathy in her gaze and I know she can't disassociate between the cancer and I. "I'll show you the way. Really it's no trouble, I was only wiping down the kitchen."