❦ WINNER OF THE RIVETING WRITING CONTEST ❦
OLIVER IS DYING
With only months left to live at just seventeen, Oliver spends his remaining days of endless tests and debilitating drugs in the St. Andrews paediatrics ward planning his impending funeral...
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I shovel a spoonful of Froot Loops into my mouth and crunch on them thoughtfully.
Despite staying up all night and watching the sunrise, I don't feel tired in the slightest. I don't think I can sleep after the night I had. I don't think I want to sleep because I know what I'll see in my dreams.
Ollie.
Hugging him.
Gazing into those eyes that are so deep and so easy to get lost in like an ocean.
Kissing him.
Kissing him.
I keep trying to push those feelings down.
I can't be like that.
I can't be like Matt.
I won't be like him.
I can't do that to my mother. I can't do it to Frankie. I don't think I can stomach the looks I'd get from people: the pity, the sadness, the disgust.
I can't put someone through what I put Hunter through. I won't do that to anyone else.
But I can't.
I can't push the feelings down.
Every time I see him, they bubble to the surface. My heart quickens, the butterflies in my stomach fight to get free. His smile sends warm waves through me.
How can one person do that to another so easily?
I blink and look up from my cereal when Mom creeps into the kitchen, her light brown bed hair in messy waves.
"Where were you last night?"
My shoulders lift in a half shrug. "Out."
She hugs her form. "Nick."
"A party, Mom," I lie. "It's nothing."
She takes a seat on the stool next to me at the island bench. She steeples her fingers. "You know you can tell me anything, Nick."
"I'm fine," I grumble back.
"There's something going on. You're my son. I can always tell when there's something wrong with you." She rests a hand on my arm. "Talk to me."
I stop eating.
She doesn't need to ask what's going on.
She knows.
She's known for over a year, despite her playing dumb to Dad.
"You know," is all I say.
She frowns. "What do you mean?"
"You know what's going on, Mom. We both know you do."
She bites her lip as I continue.
"I've been hanging out with someone." I look at her from the corner of my eye. "A boy."
