The Planetarium

PART TWO

A FEW MONTHS MELTED AWAY BEFORE I saw Juliet again, and they weren't good ones. Trust me, it's not a pleasant feeling watching your mother's face crumble over Skype when you tell her the news. They booked me the first connecting flight they could despite the summer crowding - which resulted in a few treacherous weeks being shunted around, relative to relative.

"They all kept looking so miserable," I complained on the phone to my roommate, Ezra. "And talking in a hush when they offer me cups of tea, like I'm about to drop dead any minute."

I could picture the expression of mild disgust on Ezra's face. I heard cereal being poured into a bowl on the other end of the line.

"Yeah. People are dicks."

"Being here is killing me, I swear." Striding over to my open bedroom door, I peered over the landing to scan for eavesdroppers. "My mother's nagging me about chemotherapy and treatment, wanting to know every methodical detail. She's mad I didn't tell her sooner. My Dad barely speaks about my illness at all. Like it's some big taboo."

"And they haven't even met the girlfriend yet," Ezra gritted his teeth.

"How is Hannah anyway?"

"Oh. You know. Moping."

Tact never was one of my roommate's strongest personal attributes. I'd known Ezra Blume for nearly three years now - a student of economics who resembled a six-foot gangly ghost dressed for its own funeral.

Honestly, he was the palest motherfucker I'd ever seen. Most people found him really funny, but I think some sucked up to him because he was from England.

And I thought I was adventurous moving from Montreal.

"I miss her," I said.

"I remember when you two hooked up for the first time," Ezra chuckled over the phone, coupled with an almighty crunch.

"When we had that party?"

"Yeah, here in the flat. You got me to slip her something with a higher alcohol concentration. Clever girls are so hilarious when they're pissed. Didn't she stumble and break Art's mirror?"

A grin broke out on my face. "That's right. Hannah cried for, like, twenty minutes after and then ate an entire packet of Oreos."

"I passed out in the bathroom myself. Now I can't smell tequila without begging for the sweet release of death."

I didn't reply. All of a sudden, a tense atmosphere was breeding between us.

"Bollocks - sorry - I didn't mean -"

"It's okay."

I attempted to ignore the thumping of my heart against the walls of my chest. I felt on edge in my immaculate childhood bedroom, my parents' minimalistic decorating, and the smooth double-helix spiral staircase.

I craved our Nintendo cushions, Art's Quentin Tarantino posters, and most of all, Hannah's warm embrace.

An arctic-esque wind had its hands around my bare neck, biting as hard as the midnight cold snap. The park was shrouded in darkness, wet and sinister in contrast to the upbeat activities and meets during the sun-cast hours.