Friendship Never Dies (formerly called Silver Lining)

Friendship Never Dies - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

From then on, Chloe picked on Nicole as well as me, even though she wasn’t (or didn’t used to be, anyway) fat or ugly. She was guilty by association, in Chloe’s eyes. And that meant trouble.

At break times and lunch times, whenever someone made a snide remark or nasty comment, Nicole would just take my arm and lead me away. I honestly don’t know what she saw in me, but she was the best - and only – friend I’d ever had. We were like twins – inseparable. When she was happy, I was happy. When she was sad, I was sad. We walked to and from school together we practically lived in each others houses, we did homework together, we sat next to each other in class, we went shopping together. We did everything together.

And that’s what made it harder.

A couple of weeks after the incident with Chloe, Nicole started acting strange. Sometimes she’d come into school with her eyes all red, puffy and swimming, like she’d been crying and there was more to come. Others she’d come in all pale and chalky with big purple bags under her eyes and her hair all over the place instead of her usual smooth hair-do, like she hadn’t slept in a month. Once when I asked her about it, she just told me to go away and leave her alone, then she ran off to the toilets, bursting into a fresh set of tears as she ran. That was a first for her. We’d never had an argument or even a sly word to each other before that. Then she came back later, apologetic.

She started to look incredibly fragile and delicate, but not in a good way. Her skin looked like wet paper, her hair started thinning out and her lips were always turned down. Sometimes she skipped meals, claiming she felt sick and sometimes, in class, where no-one else could see, I’d glance at her and tears would be pouring down her ghostly cheeks, quiet as whispers and her face would be contorted with pain. Neither of us ever mentioned this, though I don’t know why not. It just didn’t feel right to pry or even talk about it. We stayed like that for about three weeks. She was all mysterious and had violent mood swings. I suspected hormones, stress or something more serious, like depression or an eating disorder – they weren’t uncommon. I was really worried about her.

But I wasn’t even close. No, nowhere near.

One day we were eating lunch - well I was eating, she was just pushing the lumpy lasagne broodingly around her plate, gazing at it but her eyes were glazed over and she was obviously not really seeing it - when Nicole’s eyes just snapped up to meet mine, which were eyeing her cautiously. She sighed.

 “Ok, do you really want to know what’s going on?” she asked, unexpectedly.

“Of course I do! What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked hurriedly, anxious to finally get an answer out of her. I put my knife and fork to one side and pushed my plate away, no longer hungry. Nicole sighed again, and then took a deep, tired breath.

 “Well I’ve been feeling a bit odd lately,”

“I’ve noticed,” I remarked, an impatient edge to my voice. She shot me a withering look.

 “Sorry, I won’t interrupt again.” I apologised.

“You better not.” she warned, forcing a half-hearted laugh. “Anyway, I went to see on my GP and I’ve got…… some bad news.” She looked away, avoiding my curious eyes.

“What is it?” I almost shouted, more concerned now than I thought was possible.

 “You said you wouldn’t interrupt.” she reminded me, her eyebrows raised.

 “Oh, sorry. Couldn’t help myself,” I mumbled, blushing and looking down.

 “Um… Rachel can we go somewhere more private?” She requested uncomfortably, glancing around at the people surrounding us.

“Um, sure.” I frowned, confused. We got up and walked to the girls toilets, deserted at this time since everyone else was eating. She walked behind me but out of the corner of my eye I could see her fiddling and fumbling with the key chain around her neck. When we got in we waited until the last girl left then I spun around to look at her, curious to the point of insanity now.

“Ok.” I tried to control my impatient tone. “What’s the matter?” She could hear the impatience simmering behind my fake nonchalant tone. To my surprise and horror Nicole burst into noisy tears.

I rubbed her back soothingly whilst panicking internally.

"Nicole, what is it?" I was desperate to know, desperate to help my friend, to just stop her crying. It couldn't be that bad.

With the fat droplets of salty water rolling down her face she whispered, barely audible,

“Leukaemia,” she whispered and pulled up the sleeve of her shirt to show me the discoloured patches on her arm. And she started sobbing into the grubby sink.

But I barely heard her crying. I was stunned. It was that bad. I hadn’t expected something like that. The room span and my vision became blurred. Our friendship flashed before me, even though it wasn’t my life in danger and I could feel my mouth and eyes open wide in shock and felt my mind become detached from my body, losing all control.

And then everything was sucked into a swirling, unconscious cloud of darkness.