I ran down the hall towards her locker. I almost smashed right into Tom Green as I ran. He called out, "Fag". I didn't think twice and yelled back, "White Trash". I didn't have time to care what he thought about me, like I usually do. My heart sped up as I spotted her beautiful black hair. Isabelle Nite, my lover. Her daring, ice blue eyes and pale skin. It made my head spin just thinking about her. Miss, Isabelle's nickname, and I have been together for over a year now. We take a lot of shit for being gay together, but we don't focus on the hatred.
As I skidded to a stop at her locker, our lips locked. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer, smiling into the kiss. "Babydoll...", I said and pulled away. She looked up at me with those huge eyes and replied, "Yes Angel?". I melted inside when she called me that. I 'booped' her nose and giggled. She laughed. Miss' laugh sounded like music. Like little tinkling bells; gorgeous. I escorted Miss to her Chem 1 class. We got to the door and I pulled her in for a hug. Miss was a dwarf compared to my stature. I was 5'7" and she was 4'11". It was cute. She had to get up on her tip-toes to kiss me. I guess you can tell who is the more dominant one.
School let out around three and me and Miss always met up at Friday's Bar & Grill.
When Miss' friends dropped her off, I knew something was up. She seemed, blank. Her once blue eyes, now were clouded over and toned gray. I immediatly ran to her, embracing her. She began to whimper and tear up. "Babydoll what happened?", I asked her, concerningly. She simply looked up at me and sobbed. I held her and rocked her in my arms. "I-I...", she began, but couldn't finish. I nodded and 'shhh' her, stroking her soft hair. I sat her inside my car and sat in the backseat with her. "Isabelle, what's wrong...?", I tried again, using her given name. She looked at me, shocked. I tilted my head and waited for an answer. Miss cuddled into my chest and mumbled, "I'm sick...". Time stopped. Everything began to move in slow motion. My legs and arms felt heavy. I was mumbling nonsense. Miss had a strong immune system. She never, ever got sick. I asked her to eleborate on her sickness, so she did. "I was diagnosed with stage 1 bone cancer...", she mumbled and looked up at me slowly. I simply nodded and held her tighter, afraid to let go.
