[edited]
week two
A whole week had passed, and Emmy still insisted on going to school everyday. She gave us a scare last week, when she didn't return from her detention. Turns out she and Ethan ran off somewhere for five hours.
Needless to say, it was an afternoon filled with worry. Mostly from me.
Emmy had apologized the next day by asking me on a date. I had agreed.
"Great," she clapped her hands, "It's next Saturday."
"Hold up," I grabbed her arm as she tried to walk away, "Where is it?"
"Uh, it's my a gala that my father is holding. It's for his new hospital that's opening in Jersey City. I'm being forced to go, so I thought it would be fun if you came too."
"So, I'm basically going to entertain you?" I grinned.
"Yep, pretty much. So...see ya later?"
I laughed at her randomness, "See ya later, Emmy."
* * * *
And that's why I was currently struggling to tie this tie. I gagged as I nearly choked myself.
"Grayson! What the hell is taking you so long?" Elliot called to me from the bathroom.
"This stupid tie!" The silky fabric kept slipping through my hands. Ugh.
"Here," he came to me, and effortlessly tied it. He smirked smugly as I grumbled a thank you.
I was getting ready with Elliot and Evan, and Emmy was in her own room. I watched as the two identical boys looked even more alike in their pressed black suits, and skinny gray ties over white dress shirts. Even their shoes and socks were the same.
I was wearing a dark navy blue tuxedo suit, with a simple black bow tie. Dark red socks, and shiny black shoes were tightly on my feet. I had styled my hair flatly to the side.
"You ready?" Evan asked.
I nodded.
Mr. and Mrs. Samuels had gone ahead of us since Mr. Samuels had to be there for set-up, and we had to leave soon, or we would be late.
Elliot knocked on Emmy's door as we were walking downstairs, "Let's go, Em. Still have the drive."
"I'm coming, hold on a minute."
I heard the sounds of shoes and movement on the stairs, and looked up. My jaw opened in awe.
There Emmy stood, looking as beautiful as ever. She wore a lavender, floor-length dress that made her look taller than she actually was. It hugged her slim figure, and the bottom flowed behind her as she walked. The thin straps sharpened her shoulders and collar area, and the medium neckline dove, exposing a little cleavage. A long slit in the gown showed off one of her legs.
Her long brown hair that was normally straight cascaded down her shoulders and back in glorious waves, and it almost seemed to shine. Finally, she wore minimal makeup that complimented the rest of her outfit.
"Alright, I'm here," she smiled at me.
We followed her brothers out to the car, the both of us holding hands as we sat together in the back.
As we were on our way, I leaned to whisper in her ear, "You look really gorgeous tonight."
She grinned, "Thanks, Gray. You look great in that suit," she kisses my lips quickly, making sure to be quiet as not to alert Elliot and Evan in the front seats.
"So what exactly is this gala for?" I wondered aloud.
"Our dad is on the board of directors for this hospital, so he basically runs it," Evan explained, "The one we're going to right now is their newest branch, and he wanted to make this opening a big deal."
"Ahh," I nodded.
"Isn't there some doctor getting an award tonight also?" Emmy said.
Elliot agreed, "Yeah, I think Dr. House is, and also some other doctor too. Dad's supposed to present it."
"Oh cool."
The ride to Jersey City wasn't long, but we did get stuck in traffic a few times. Emmy called their Dad to tell him about the slight delay.
We arrived at the large hospital, and headed to the administration building, where there was a banquet hall a few floors up.
We walked in, and luckily, not many people had arrived yet. Mrs. Samuels greeted us, looking elegant in her long, black gown and her strawberry blond hair in a stylish half-bun.
"Come sit down, darlings. Our table's near the front," she pointed to a table in front of the stage, right underneath the speaker's podium.
We set our jackets and bags down at the table, and followed Mrs. Samuels, who had asked us to help with set-up.
"Ok, Grayson, can you call Nick? He should be back behind the stage getting the awards and his speech ready," she directs me to the side of the stage, where I was supposed to go beyond the curtain.
"Mr. Samuels?" I called into the dim-lit room.
He pops up from somewhere, scaring me, "Grayson! Glad you guys made it! What do you need, son?" he asks, smiling.
"Uh, Genevieve wanted you. I think she said something about putting the awards in their places."
"Ahh," he nods.
As I begin to walk away, he calls me back, "Grayson? Could you actually put them back there? I have to go check with the sound specialist about the glitching microphone."
"What exactly would I do?" I ask.
"Take the three awards that'll be handed out, and put them underneath the podium. On the speaker's side, there's a little place just the right size."
"Uh, sure. I can do that, sir."
"Great!" he cries, disappearing again. He comes back with three small glass sculptures in his hands, each of them shaped like a pyramid.
"Here you go. Just put them where I told you," he throws them into my arms, nearly causing me to drop them, "Thanks, Gray," he pats my shoulder before walking away once more.
I shrug, laughing. Mr. Samuels was clearly distracted and busy, so I went to do what he told me. I found the small opening inside the podium, and put the clear awards in order, pushing them farther inside so they wouldn't fall out easily.
I went back to the table, where Genevieve was busy directing Evan and Elliot as they hung a banner on the far south wall.
I found Emmy, and sat next to her, as more and more people had begun to arrive.
"What'd you do? I asked.
"I made sure all the food arrived from the catering service. Mum was gonna go insane if her appetizers didn't get here in time," she chuckled.
"She's excited, huh?"
"Yeah," she nodded, "It's a big first impression of this new hospital, I guess."
Fifteen minutes later, everyone had filed into the ballroom, and the lighting had been adjusted so the room wasn't as bright.
Food was passed around, and after dinner, the invitees began to stand up and move to tables other than the ones they were assigned to, talking to people they knew, either by business or personal relations.
Emmy and I were talking to each other, when we spotted Mr. Samuels signaling for us to come over. I hesitated, thinking he only wanted to talk to his daughter, but he looked directly at me and nodded.
"Emmy, Grayson, I would like you to meet Dr. Wilson, the new head of our oncology department here," he introduces us to the middle-aged doctor standing in front of us.
We exchanged a firm handshake.
"Dr. Wilson, my daughter Emerson, and her boyfriend, Grayson."
"Pleased to meet you, kids."
"Dr. Wilson is one of the world's leading oncologists. He'll be receiving the Physician Advocacy Merit Award tonight. It's much deserved," Mr. Samuels beams.
"It's a great honor, thank you Dr. Samuels," Dr. Wilson says humbly, laughing lightly.
I laughed too, and looked at Emmy. She had an obvious look of discomfort on her face, and didn't even attempt to hide it.
"Would you mind telling the kids what your specialty is?" Mr. Samuels continues.
"Of course. I'm best at treating tumors of the endocrine system. I just actually made a new discovery recently in diagnosing cancers of the hypothalamus and pituitary glands," he says.
"Isn't that great, Emerson?" Her dad asks her.
"Um...yeah. That's wonderful. Best regards for tonight, Dr." she says quickly, before walking away.
I exchange a glance with Mr. Samuels, but he doesn't seem at all surprised at Emmy's strange behavior.
"I'll see you later tonight, Dr. Wilson. It was a pleasure to meet you,"I shake his hand again.
"You too, Grayson."
I wave once more time, and run off to try and find Emmy. I ask Elliot and Evan, and they claim she left the ballroom, but I wasn't even sure where she could go after that.
I decide to check on the floor we're on first, which is the third one.
I find the balcony, which has an open door. "Emmy! You here?"
I don't get an answer, but I find her sitting on the corner of the terrace, immediately recognizing her by her bright-colored dress.
Her face is in her hands, and I wrap my arms around her as I sit by her.
"What's wrong, Em?" I whisper in her ear through her hair, as if someone could even hear us.
"Grayson, I really don't want to talk about it," she sighs, wiping her face as she looks up at me.
"That's fine. Let's just sit here, then," I tell her.
She smiles slightly, and stares straight ahead. This reminds me of the first time she ever came to my house. God damn, it's been so long. I remember how she was all focused on doing the work for our project, while I couldn't help staring at her.
At least she finally knew my true feelings towards her.
As she trails her hands up and down her arms, I take off my suit jacket and place it around her shoulder. She jokes, "How utterly cliche of a move." But she doesn't object, and eagerly wraps the large, black jacket around tighter around her.
"Did Dr. Wilson say anything that upset you?" I carefully ask, trying not to pry too much.
She chuckles, and I'm confused by this point, "No, no. It's wasn't Dr. Wilson. It was my Dad."
"What did he do?"
"He's just been annoying me lately about getting treatment for the cancer. That's the main reason he even hired Dr. Wilson."
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't you hear, Gray? Dr. Wilson practices in treating tumors of the endocrine system. As in, you know, the system with the pancreas," she says flatly.
"Ahh. That's why that sounded so familiar," I realize, "Sorry, but what's wrong with that? Doesn't your dad just want you to get better?"
She nods, "Of course he does, and I respect him for that. But he isn't respecting the decision I've made."
"To die, you mean," I add candidly.
She scowls at me, "I'm not choosing to die, Grayson. I'm choosing not to spend the last weeks of my life in a hospital, giving myself the false hope that maybe my life with continue after the next two months."
"But, Emmy, don't you even want to try?"
"NO!" she snaps suddenly, her voice rising, "I don't want to try. Do you know the odds of this actually working?"
I don't speak, and she continues on, "It's less than 10%, Grayson."
"But, Emmy-"
"I'm not finished," she looks at me, and I quickly stop talking, "Sorry."
"There's so many treatment options. Surgery to remove all the tumors, chemotherapy, radiotherapy. And I've looked at every single fucking one! I'm going to die in five weeks, and there's nothing I can do about it!" she's full-out yelling at this point. But it's not at me, it's more at herself.
Tears are threatening to leave her eyes, and I quickly dab them away with my thumbs, "I'm so sorry."
"For what?" she sniffles.
"For possibly smudging your eye makeup."
She snorts, and then laughs at herself in embarrassment, "Shut up, you bozo!"
"Let's not talk about this anymore tonight, okay? You look sexy in that dress, and I wanna have a good time."
She breaths, "That sounds great."
She slowly lessens the gap between us, until our lips have met. She kisses me quickly, then grabs my hand.
"Don't fucking tease me like that, Emerson," I warn.
She laughs as she pulls me back inside the warm hospital, "Sorry. But I seriously have just one question."
"Shoot."
"Can I please rip that dress shirt off of you when we get back?"
"HEY! Lovebirds, get back over here!" Evan hisses as were reenter the ballroom, "Its time for the award ceremony."
We quickly take our seats back at the table as the lights dim and a spotlight is pointed at the podium, where Mr. Samuels now stands.
"Ladies and gentleman, thank you so much for being here tonight! And welcome to the Jersey City branch of Plainsboro Teaching Hospital!"
Mr. Samuels goes on with his speech, and I lean over to whisper in Emmy's ear as her vision is still directed towards the stage.
I answer her question from earlier, "Yes, babygirl, you most certainly can."
~ ~ ~ ~
SONG OF THE CHAPTER: YOUTH
ARTIST: Troye Sivan
ALBUM: Blue Neighborhood