CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
july 18, 2011
content warning: discussions of cancer (sarcoma)
"Mum, can you help me with this, please?" I tug at a box in the car trunk.
"Yeah, honey, just give me a minute." Mum pushes open both front doors, then rushes back to where I am to shift the weight into her hands. Her pale-brown waves are sticking to her forehead from sweat.
"Here, I'm stronger, I can take it," she says.
I still hold my hands at the bottom of the box, though I'm not taking any weight.
"What's this box for?" she asks, grunting.
"Kitchen stuff."
"Okay, baby. Make sure I don't run into any walls."
I make sure she doesn't run into walls, as she tells me to.
Mum leaves to go get more boxes from the car. I open up the box using a pair of scissors from the counter. It's a stack of plates and silverware.
I put them away, feeling a sense of duty. I accept another box with the coffeepot in it and put it together the best I can.
Hearing Mum's struggles from outside, I rush out to help her.
I find someone else underneath the box too. A little boy, probably an inch shorter than me, with red hair and round, thick-rimmed eyeglasses, a little crooked from the effort.
He sees me in the doorway, and stares a little bit before the box slides loose in his grip. He yelps in surprise, jumping to catch it before it hits the ground. I go out and take another side to help distribute the weight. We all take the box in and place it on the ground as gingerly as possible.
"June, all your stuff is in your room, already."
"Oh, really? Can I go put all of it?" I'm already halfway there.
She laughs. "Of course, you can."
"Can I go too?" The boy brushes a frizzy chunk of hair out of his eyes.
"Of course, honey. Have fun." I sprint towards my bedroom, the boy following close behind at a slower pace. My room is painted a denim blue on all 4 walls.
"Cool room," he says. I whip my head around to face him. I've somehow already forgotten he was here.
"Thanks, but nothing's up yet."
He shrugs. "Still cool. Good color." I nod, unsure how to respond.
I dig out my duvet and sheets from one of the boxes. I never learned how to tuck in my sheets properly, so I just toss them on.
"I can help you with that," the boy suggests. "My older sister taught me how to do the hospital-corners thing." Without me even opening my mouth to say yes, the boy rushes up to fox my mistake. He does it in a matter of seconds.
"Jeez, how'd you do it so fast?"
He shrugs. "Just practice, I guess." He makes his j sounds like sh. I contemplate mentioning it, but I decide against it.
I throw on my duvet. "Wait," I say, "there's not a better way to do this, too, right?"
He shakes his head. "Nope, you're good."
The bedspread is mostly the same color as my walls, with a yellow star pattern.
"You must really like stars."
"Um. Yeah, I do."
"That's cool."
To save myself from the unbearable silence, I redirect my attention to the possible layouts I'm making in my head. I'm evaluating whether it's worth it to move my bed around.
"Could you help me with this?" The boy nods silently and follows my lead. We rotate the bed and push it into a corner. He holds out his knuckles for a fist-bump. I don't leave him hanging, though it's tempting, for some reason. He looks incredibly pleased with this. I unload my books unto my shelf, while he hands me them and judges my reading choices.
He hands me a thin, worn-down copy of Tuck Everlasting. "Nice. One of my sisters had to read this for school. She read it to me."
"I didn't know you had two sisters."
"I didn't tell you, so I don't know why you would. My oldest sister is Cassie. The one I just told you about is Rae. You'll meet 'em soon."
"Oh?"
"We're neighbors, now, remember?"
"Oh, right."
He hands me the first four volumes of Harry Potter. "These are heavy," he grunts.
"Sorry." He tosses two copies of Matilda at me.
"Why two?"
I sigh and pick up the copy I dropped, and open it up to a random page.
"It's in French," I explain. "Mum's trying to teach me."
"Oh," he says simply, "how much are you through?"
"Halfway."
"Oh. Cool. Update me when you're done."
"Um, okay. That's... I'll do that." I don't know how to recover from whatever that was.
He nods, and gives me the rest of my books. I open up a taped up box filled with bubble wrap and trinkets. I hand the boy the bubble wrap and take to arranging the decorations. He looks like I just handed him the first gift on Christmas. He unfolds it and starts individually popping each bubble.
"Who are you?"
He frowns, looking up from his packaging.
"My name's Elijah."
"Cool. I'm June."
"Cool."
august 10, 2014
"Are you ready?"
"I'm the one at your door. Yeah, I'm ready."
"No need to be rude about it." I slide on my sneakers and close the door behind me. Mum is standing to face us, her phone in portrait mode and Elijah's dad, Joe, hovering behind her.
"Awe, my babies are going to middle school," Mum gushes, thoroughly enjoying her effort to try and embarrass me.
"Your babies?" Joe gives Mum a look.
"Sorry, ami. Our babies." Joseph's expression turns complicated.
Mum snaps as many photos as her phone can hold. Eli throws an arm around my shoulder and flashes a toothy grin.
They ceremoniously send us off to the bus stop, though Joe offers to drive us. Eli insisted we could walk the four minutes by ourselves.
My palms grow increasingly clammier.
"Hey, don't be nervous. I'm going with you, so you're not going to be the only one. And we have classes together, so we'll get to hang out."
"How do you always know what I'm thinking?"
He chuckles, lightly, "you're not as subtle as you think you are."
I don't know how to respond. I bite my lip.
We turn the corner to a stop sign. This is it.
A Kia blows past. Eli frowns at it.
"I don't know why people decide its reasonable to ignore traffic rules. It's inconsiderate, and technically illegal, too." Still frowning at the car, which is already a speck in our vision, his pinky fumbles around for mine. I catch and link them. With my other hand, I fidget with a braid that keeps brushing in front of my eyes. I pick at the rubber band holding it together. A lady in a tracksuit with two daschunds on leashes gives us a faint smile and keeps on her jog.
"I should've asked the lady to pet her dogs," Eli mutters to himself. I giggle.
The bus turns the corner and screeches into a stop. Eli lets go of my hand, and we pile into the bus.
september 2, 2015
"Hey, Mum? Me and Eli are going on a walk."
"Alright, honey, be safe." She presses three fingers to her lips and blows a kiss at me absently. She's more focused on flipping crêpes for dinner.
I swing out the door, twist the key in the lock, and shove the key in my pocket. Eli's already waiting at the corner. I run over to him.
"What's up?"
"Nothin. Did I miss anything in Quincy-Diaz?"
We had, like, a worksheet. Everyone was too obnoxious, so we didn't get anything done."
He chuckles. "That's good, then. I still have the stupid fluoride texture in my mouth."
"Ew. I hate fluoride."
I know, right? It's like toothpaste-water-flavored sand.
"I mean, you're right, but what does toothpaste water taste like?"
"You know how you drink cold water right after you brush your teeth?"
I wince. "Ah. It stings."
"It is really the worst."
"Who was the ringleader of the shitshow today?"
"Oscar."
"Oscar? I don't think I've ever even heard him talk."
"It was really weird."
"Isn't he gay?"
The question catches me off-guard. "Uh — I don't know, why?"
"Dunno. Just heard around."
This is a good time. The best possible time, probably. It's relevant, now, and the conversation is casual. Casual. I muster up my courage and I pray to every god that'll listen.
"Hey, speaking of, uh, I've got something to tell you."
His brain connects the dots before the words have even reached my tongue, but I need to say them anyway. He raises an eyebrow.
"I don't think I like boys. Like, at all. I don't think I ever will. And, uh... I've been doing some research, and I think I'm a..." I hesitate over the word. "...lesbian." The word is unfamiliar in my mouth.
Eli doesn't have any witty retorts or anything horrible to say, he just looks up and stares down the horizon.
"I think I can get that. I mean, it was something I always kind of understood, but it still means a lot that you decided to tell me. And, I think I'm something like that too. If I like girls, I don't only like girls, and I don't really feel fully like a boy, either. I'm not gay, or straight, and I'm not transgender, but I'm somewhere between all of that."
I nod. "That makes sense. Seems very you."
"I don't feel like I really have the right words for it, but that's fine, I guess."
I shrug. "Does anyone else know?"
"Not sure. I think maybe Dad caught on. Cass definitely knows. I didn't tell her, but she knows. I don't know about Rae. Does anyone else know about you?"
"No. I think I'll tell Mum next, once I gather the strength. I think she'll be okay with it, I just need to find the right moment."
Don't rush yourself. You have your whole life to tell her." It feels weird, saying all the words — lesbian, transgender, gay. Even thinking about "coming out" — it feels strange and taboo.
"Take your own advice too, okay? You've got your whole life. Don't rush yourself."
He smiles, soft gaze still brushing the horizon. "Will do."
"Will do."
february 29, 2017
content warning for mentions of cancer (sarcoma)
"Is this some kind of messed-up April Fool's joke or something?"
"June, please, I need you to listen to me."
"No, I don't fucking believe it! You sick... you fucking bastard, why are you lying to me? Why would you say that?"
"June, I'm not fucking lying, alright? I have cancer. Please, I need you to believe me. I can show you the scans. It's called sarcoma, it's... it's a cancer that forms in connective tissue. The stuff between your bones and all of that."
I want to throw up. I want to scream so loudly it shatters windows and pull all of my hair out until every single emotion I could ever experience has drained into the ground.
"How... how could this happen? Eli, you're so healthy. It doesn't make sense."
"June, that's not how it works." Eli sighs lengthily, and I immediately feel bad. He gains a hundred lifetimes in that moment, and I gain maybe half that, too.
"I'm sorry, I just... I can't fucking believe this has happened. It's not... it's not fair."
"June, if the world was fair, cancer wouldn't exist in the first place. But it does. And I have it, and I wish I didn't, but I do. So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to fight like hell, and if I go down, you're not going to blame yourself or anyone else because there was nothing they could do. Even the doctor, okay? I'm willing to believe they'll do everything they can. Okay? You hear me, June?"
"No. You aren't dying, Elijah Armstrong."
He puts a hand on my forearm.
"Damn right, I'm not. I'm not"
a/n: did i disappear off wattpad for nearly a month? maybe
if you want talk about patchyshack universe headcanons yes im free
tout à l'heure, mes amis,
- patchyshack