Handle With Clare

Chapter 33: I Didn't Need A Superman

I scrolled down the screen of my laptop until it froze on me. I frowned at it as if it could see my disapproval as I heard birds chirp outside my window, wishing more than anything to be out there, where the sun was shining. I looked out the window for a second, watching the leaves blow around in the wind, their green color changing into a yellowy red. The weather was getting colder, and I knew that before long all the birds would go south before the harsh winter came.

So much for my summer. But winter had it's beauty as well, often I overlooked the season, but I wasn't doing to do that this year. Determined, I would look for the beauty in every season because life was too short to hate things.

My head snapped over to the window of the hospital hall when I heard a tap on my window. There on the other side was Peter, with flowers in his hand. I kept my face like stone as I stared at him. I hadn't seen him in a week, no messages, no notes from my parents, or his uncle. I thought he dropped off the face of the earth, so why did he show up now? Why did he even show up at all?

Be more polite, a little voice said in my head, knowing that he saved my life. If he really wanted to save my life, why didn't he bring his uncle to the hospital sooner? Did he enjoy watching me suffer? Or did he want me to be forever in his gratitude because my parents would, but I for sure wouldn't be.

In his other hand, he held a notebook. He flipped it open so I could see it through the window.

"Hi" was all that was written as he smiled with a wave.

I rolled my eyes at him, refusing to smile. I was not sure what his goal was coming here, but I would not swoon over a simple message. I needed reasons why he didn't communicate with me and I was waiting for that.

He flipped the page and jotted something down, holding it up so I could read it. "My uncle won't let me in."

I shrugged. This wasn't the worst news I have heard all day. At least this room protected me for the time being.

He held up his finger and wrote again on his notebook. "I want to explain myself."

I raised my eyebrows at him, knowing that this would be good. I opened word on my laptop and typed out, "I'm waiting." I flipped the laptop around so he could see it.

He smiled and laughed as if this was funny. In his notebook, he wrote, "I missed your sassy attitude."

I shook my head. What was he doing? What did he want? Weren't we over?

"I honestly did not know or understand how bad you were until you broke up with me that day. That was when I think I fully understood how sick you were." He wrote and then looked at me as if it was my fault that I didn't tell him. Telling him wasn't the first thing on my mind since it was a total mood killer. I hoped I would get better before I had to tell him, but we all know what happened with that.

"Wasn't the first thing on my mind to tell you." I typed back.

He shook his head in disapproval, with a hint of hurt in his eyes. "I thought you were going to tell me everything."

I typed back, "I did. I just left that out. Kind of a mood killer if I told you I was dying. That was why I broke up with you. I wanted you to have a future." I flipped the computer screen back at him so he could read.

I watched his eyes follow what I typed, then stood in silence for a moment as he thought. He flipped his notebook back around and jotted down. "I want you in my future."

I rolled my eyes at him even though my heart melted as I read the note again. Remaining mad at him was getting harder by the second. He wanted me, and as impossible as that seemed, I couldn't help but wonder if he was kidding. How could he want me after all I put him through...

"I'm serious. When you broke up with me, all I thought about was, I couldn't lose you. I couldn't be without your smile, your blonde hair, your personality. I just needed you in my life."

Such a romantic he is.

"That night when you chased me away, I got a hold of your dad. I wanted him to explain to me what was really happening. Unlike you, he was completely honest with me, telling me you were dying if they couldn't find a new treatment and that you didn't want to go anywhere else for treatment." He paused and then wrote again. After a minute, he flipped the notebook so I could read. "I couldn't let that happen. You met my uncle already. Well, I told you my Grandma had cancer, well her death caused him to be devoted to finding new treatments and saving people."

"Why didn't you tell me about him sooner?" I typed back to him.

"Because our family had a falling out with him years ago. None of my family has spoken with him for so long. But I contacted him, without my family knowing and they're still pissed I did so without their knowledge. They grounded me for a week, taking everything from me and preventing me from contacting you. But it was worth it because I needed to make sure I could do all in my power to save you. If you would not save yourself, I would."

"I didn't need a superman," I typed out to him.

He frowned and shook his head as if he knew me better than I knew myself. He spent a little more time writing the next message. "That is what you don't understand. You did need a superman. You needed someone in your life to make you feel normal, for someone to save you from your boring life. You needed someone to make you feel like a teen girl that wasn't sick."

You hated the fact that you had cancer, you were dying, that you would leave your family alone. And you hated the idea of not spending your life doing what you wanted. And that was why I saved you. Because you wanted to be saved. You didn't ask for it, but you wished it. You wanted to be saved from the life you were living."

I sat there with my mouth open as I let his words sink in. He was right. I couldn't deny that. Somehow, he knew me so well, almost better than myself.

He smiled at me, knowing that I would forgive him. "When can I see you, without having this wall block us?"

I sat there with my mouth open. After all that I said to him, after all I did to him, all the lies and deception, he still wanted to have contact with me. When I broke up with him, I was so sure that I was freeing him, but he never wanted that. What did I do to deserve him? I closed my mouth, overcome by the desire to touch him again. I wanted him here just as much as he looked like he wanted to be in here with me. "I'm hoping tomorrow."

He nodded. "I will see you tomorrow then?"

I nodded at him. I would be waiting.