Unsteady

6 | Chocolate Deals and Empty Threats

I push Frankie along at a leisurely pace, making sure not to give her a bumpy ride. I'd rather her not spew on the nice pristine flooring.

"Thanks for taking me back," Frankie grumbles groggily.

"It's no trouble," I reply. "I used to do it for Alice all the time."

She rearranges my oxygen tank on her lap and lolls her head back to look up at me. "Who is Alice? I only heard she was in my room and died."

"Yeah. I didn't know her very well, but she was a nice girl. The cancer took her. She'd been fighting it on and off for a long time. She got tired in the end, I suppose."

"That's my worst fear," I hear her drawl out quietly. "I'm scared that will be me soon."

I quirk my lips to the side.

I change our route and head towards the sun room. I park her in front of the huge floor to ceiling window overlooking the St. Andrews gardens spread out for as long as a block down below.

I crouch next to her. "That's not going to happen to you. You're going to kick cancer's ass in time for prom."

I smile when Frankie lets out a small laugh at that.

I pull up a chair and sit next to her, taking my tank from her lap as I sit and place it between my legs.

"When I was nine, a routine surgery forced my lungs into total failure. I was in a coma for three weeks."

I glance at her. "The doctors said I would only have a few months to live." I shrug. "I'm still blessing the world with my existence."

I elbow her gently. "You'll be in remission soon. And then you'll go to your dream place."

She looks at me, her eyes barely open for me to see the blueness of them but enough for her to squint. "What do you mean?"

I turn to the window.

Dogs are running around holding sticks. A young boy throws a frisbee to his dad. Birds take to the sky from the trees.

"Well, everyone has a dream place," I explain. "Bobbi's is shopping in Paris. Simon's is Spain at night during the Day of the Dead festival."

"That's morbid."

"Not really. It's more of a celebration of the deceased rather than about death itself despite the name."

"And yours is to go to that place painted on your wall?"

A smile tugs at my lips. "Hopefully. But my dream place comes with another attached."

"What's that?"

I don't get to finish my sentence when I see a familiar face walk into the main lobby.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach. Everything seems to slow down when he walks in, in his jeans and flannel and converse sneakers with blond hair slicked and curled over at the top and investigative icy eyes.