Reflection in the mirror

Chapter 10

Turns out that my separation anxiety was all for naught- on my first day of Chemotherapy, who would stroll into my room and collapse on to the orange chair by my bedside but Taylor.

"Slacker- don't you have anywhere you'd rather be?" I asked, not exactly welcoming but I'd already began feeling nauseous from the drugs and I didn't want to expel my stomach in front of Taylor.

"Don't we all, Liv, don't we all?" he answered smiling slightly

"why are you here?" I pushed

"what? I can't show my girlfriend some moral support when she's sick?" he asked, putting his hands up in mock surrender and I simply had to laugh

"No- you can't because there is always an ulterior  motive with you" I giggled, forgetting about my cancer and my sickness for a few minutes, and this made me smile more

"Shut up, where are your parents?" he asked, looking around the room as though he expected my mum to jump out from the wardrobe in the corner

"picking up the others from school and college" I paused

"I'm normally alone on the first few days of chemo though, my parent's can't really deal with vomit and blood" I ducked my head and took a sip of water

"Really?" Taylor said, taking off his cap and the strobe lights shone on his bald head

"really, really" I answered

There was one of those pauses that is like a soap bubble, you know that it is necessary but you are divided over what you should do about it- do you burst it or do you wait for it to burst on it's own?

"How long have you gone without throwing up?" I asked suddenly

"three days"

"Shut up!? Really"

"Honestly, are you a betting girl?"

"Depends"

"Olivia- I bet that you can't make it until four PM without tossing your cookies"

I glanced at the clock on the wall opposite- 3:45

I hesitated but then

"you're on!"

Taylor stretched lazily in his chair, he yawned and stretched his arms above his head and gave me a cheeky smirk

"God, it feels so good to sit here and not be hooked up to a pole"

"rub it in Taylor- just rub it in" I answered in what I hoped was a bored tone of voice

"what did you have for lunch?" before I could answer he grinned wickedly "Or should I guess based on the colours?"

I punched him playfully "You're disgusting, anyway- why ARE you here?"

"trying to weasel your way out of the bet, are you?" he asked

"I'm trying to spare you, although..."

before I could finish the sentence however, I turned green and began heaving into one of those cardboard bowls, once I started being sick, it felt like I would never stop and I felt my face flushing a bright red and my forehead grew warm, I could feel my heart hammering against my rib cage and then I felt it- Taylor's soft hands were rubbing my back and his voice was whispering in my ear. Once I had (finally!!) stopped dry heaving, I looked up sheepishly at him, trying to gauge his reaction

"sorry" I mumbled as I mopped at my face

"don't apologise, you never know, tomorrow it could be me" he handed me another roll of tissues

I smiled kindly and then I noticed that he seemed nervous, he was twitchy and he couldn't sit still

"are you okay? you're awfully jumpy" I asked

"yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just, there's something I have to ask you" he said

"no- I won't marry you yet" I joked

"shush. No. The hospital does this kind of makeshift 'Prom' every year. It's just about as lame as you'd think. Dad music. old band. ugly tuxes. punch spiked with platelets, just kidding about that last part. Anyway, last year I went stag- and it was pretty dumb but this year I thought that since I'm a patient and you're a patient, maybe we could go together" He asked, his pale face flushing as red as  my own

"well, as it turns out, I haven't made any plans to kick the bucket anytime soon, so yeah, sure. it'll be great fun" I said, trying to contain my excitement

"great. It's in three weeks on Saturday. I'll pick you up at six?" He asked and I nodded

well. how about that? Little Olivia is going to her first prom!!