Dad and I got up early-ish in the morning. We got to my school just before 8:30. We headed towards the office when I heard someone call my name. I turned around and there was Emmanuel. I frowned as he came over.
"Where you been, man?" He asked me.
I stared at him. His mom had been to visit when I was in the hospital. He had to know. He should have known. I yanked my beanie off and Emmanuel looked shocked at my bald head.
"Gee, Emmanuel. Where could I have been?"
"What the fuck? What happened?"
"Why don't you ask your mom?"
"Was that supposed to be a joke? You don't joke about my moms, Jaime."
"No, Emmanuel. That was a question. Your mom came to see me last week. Where were you?"
"Out with Frank and Justin," he shrugged. "What happened to your hair?"
"I have cancer you asshole. You'd know that if you talked to your mom. She came to visit. I nearly died two weeks ago. Sorry I'm too inconveniencing!" I spun around and walked towards the office where Dad was talking with the principal and watching Emmanuel and I.
"Jay, wait!" Emmanuel said. I kept walking. He grabbed my shoulder and stopped me. I spun around, my hands in fists.
"What, Emmanuel. Do you want me to listen to more excuses?"
"No, I," he frowned and looked away. "I wanted to say I'm really sorry."
"Great. I'm glad you're sorry," I said through clenched teeth. "That makes me feel so much better."
"Jay, that's not fair," he said.
"Really, Emmanuel? Remember when you said we were like brothers? What was that all about? Huh? Because I now have two younger brothers, and they're better brothers than you!"
Emmanuel frowned.
"Do you think it's easy for us? You have a whole new life and your dad and now you live up in Beverley Hills! You don't text us anymore. I haven't heard from you all summer!"
"I've been fighting cancer all summer!" I shouted. Kids were staring. "I've been fighting for my life all summer. Maybe if you talked to your mom, you'd know why I couldn't get back to you."
Emmanuel looked at me and then, without warning, hauled off and punched me in the face. I felt blood running down my face from my nose. I hoped he hadn't broken it. I launched myself at him and started throwing punches until I felt arms pull me off Emmanuel.
I was starting to feel dizzy.
"What the hell is going on out here?" The principal asked, holding Emmanuel back.
"Nothing," Emmanuel spat at me. He wrenched his arms out of the principal's hold, glared at me and walked away.
"Jaime, are you alright?" The principal asked. I was getting dizzier.
"I don't know," I said, putting my hand to my head.
"Jaime, your nose is bleeding. Let's sit you down in the office," I heard someone say. There were black spots in front of my eyes. Someone manoeuvred me towards a chair. Dad's face floated in front of me.
"Jaime?" His voice echoed in my head. "Jaime? Are you okay?"
"Dad? I don't feel good," I said, before everything went black.
I opened my eyes and saw I was in, I guess, the hospital.
"Jaime!" Dad said, coming up to my side. "Are you okay?"
"I think so. What happened?" I asked, trying to sit up. Dad gently pushed me back down.
"Just relax. You got into a fight with Emmanuel. He punched you in the nose. It bled. A lot. You passed out at the school. I brought you to the hospital to get you checked, make sure nothing more serious was going on," Dad said.
I touched my nose. It was tender, but I don't think it's broken.
"It's not broken," Dad said. "But the doctor said it'll probably be tender for a few days."
I nodded.
"What was that all about?" Dad asked, sitting beside me.
I frowned.
"Emmanuel is an ass. We grew up together. He used to say I was his 'brother from another mother'. Mom, Tanya, used to watch him when Mrs. Lopez went back to work. We'd come home from school and he'd hang at our place. And he's all mad I didn't text him all summer."
"Didn't he know what you were dealing with this summer?"
"You'd think. If he'd spoken to his mom, maybe he wouldn't have been so shocked to see my head."
"Ah.," Dad said. "But why did he haul off and punch you?"
"Probably because I told him if he'd spoken to his mom at all over the summer he would have known I nearly died two weeks ago. He probably felt sort of bad and the way my friends deal with being wrong, well, it's kinda like that."
"Well, you can't be going around getting into fights," Dad frowned at me.
"Do you think I went looking for a fight?" I argued back.
"No, Jaime. Relax. I'm just saying, you have to be more careful. Dr. Jensen said you're more likely to bleed more and more easily. And you can't afford to lose a lot of blood. Not right now."
I closed my eyes and covered my eyes with my arm. I let out a frustrated sigh.
"Jaime! Pete! What happened?" I heard Meagan - Mom - exclaim as she pushed her way into the curtained area I was laying on a stretcher in.
"Jaime had a bit of a run-in with an old friend," Dad said, frowning. I frowned back at him.
"Jaime, your shirt! What on earth!" She came over and gave me a hug, then started looking at my face and poking around my nose. I grimaced. It was tender, but Dad said it wasn't broken.
"I ran in to Emmanuel at school when we went to pick up the books and stuff. His mom was the one who visited when I was last here? Mrs. Lopez? Apparently he didn't talk to her at all. Because he didn't seem to have a clue what I've been doing all summer."
She looked at me, crossed her arms and frowned.
"How did that result in you getting a bloody nose?"
"I told him off for not listening to his mom or finding out why I didn't text anyone much over the summer. You know, the whole trying not to die of cancer being my biggest priority," I frowned. "So he punched me."
"Jaime! You can't go around getting punched. Not right now! Not when your still, just, not now," Mom said.
"You'd think you two thought I went looking for a fight with Emmanuel," I frowned.
"I known you didn't. But Jaime, you have to be careful. You're still on some powerful drugs, you're on a blood thinner and you have to watch your port."
"I know!" I said. "Again, I didn't ask for him to punch me in the face."
"Just, please, Jaime, be more careful, okay?" Mom said.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. I'm not really sure what else they were expecting. It's not like I invited Emmanuel's fist into my face.
The doctor came by, who'd seen me when Dad brought me in, unconscious.
"Well, young man, I see you're finally awake. I'm sure your parents mentioned your nose is not broken but is likely going to be a bit sore for a couple of days," he said. I nodded.
"And I'm sure they've stressed the importance of you not getting into fights considering your situation?"
I rolled my eyes.
"Yes," I said tersely.
"Okay, well, you're free to go as soon as I bring you your discharge papers."
Dad thanked the doctor and Meagan handed me a paper bag.
"What's this?" I asked, looking in the bag and seeing a bundle of fabric.
"Your dad was going to surprise you tonight and take you to the Lakers game. Except he asked me to bring you the t-shirt he got you, since that one is now covered in blood," she said.
I looked over at Dad. He smiled back at me.
"Surprise," he said.
I pulled the t-shirt out of the bag. It was a Lakers t-shirt. I pulled off my dirty shirt and started to put on the new one. Meagan grabbed my arm before I could pull my shirt on.
"Your port looks infected," she frowned. I looked down at my chest. I couldn't quite see the port. I shrugged.
"It's fine. It's not bothering me," I said.
"I don't like the look of that," Mom tsked. "Pete, keep an eye on that if it doesn't look better before you go."
Dad nodded at her and shrugged at me.
Once the doctor was back with discharge papers, we left the ER and Dad said he'd already told Dr. Jansen where I was and they said they'd wait to seen me, if I didn't stay unconscious too long. The three of us went upstairs.
I was taken into Dr. Jansen's exam room right away, and his nurse weighed me and asked how I was feeling and all the usual stuff. She wrote down some notes and then led me into Dr. Jansen's office. Dad and Mom were already in there. They weren't smiling.
"Jaime, hi. How are you feeling?" Dr Jansen asked me as I came into the room.
"Fine. Why?"
"Your blood work has us a little concerned," the doctor said.
"Concerned... how?" I asked.
"I'm seeing some markers that might indicate the tumour is regrowing. I want to send you for imaging," he said.
"When?" I asked, thinking, we leave in two days."
"Today. Now," he said. "I've put a rush on it so I should have the results by tonight. I also want you to get more blood work done. You'll do that before your imaging. Head down to the lab and they'll direct you to imaging," he said, holding out the requisition for lab work.
I was stunned. I was doing okay. I didn't feel like anything had changed. I was actually feeling good for a change.
Mom and Dad both got up, hugged me, and with their arms around me, we left the office and headed down to the lab.
None of us spoke on the way down or while I had my tests done. I didn't speak to anyone before, during or after. As soon as we got home, I went up to my room, closed my door, and lay on my bed.
I was supposed to go to the Lakers game tonight. And on tour with dad on Wednesday.
If the bloodwork was right, I could be going back to the hospital. And I don't know if I want to go through all that again.