Look out for the<>!
Enjoy!
Darla H
By time I made it home, I quickly changed into a different outfit and sprayed enough perfume to wash out the smell of hospital. As I stood in the bathroom, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, seeing bags under my eyes. I looked way too tired for summer break, and I hoped Peter wouldn't notice. I forced a smile at the mirror until I believed the smile myself.
Feeling accomplished, I went into the kitchen to grab something microwaveable for a meal. I downed it quickly, not caring that it burned my mouth slightly as waited by the door for Peter.
Within minutes, Peter was on the front porch, looking at me from head to toe. For a second I shifted my weight, knowing that he was judging how I looked. I swore inwardly, knowing I should have put on something a little nicer than leggings and a hoodie.
"You look nice," he said, giving me a small kiss.
That once small sentence eased my worry as I smiled back at him. I wasn't expecting that comment, but I welcomed it. I know I haven't had a boyfriend for very long but I was really enjoying human interaction with a person my age and not part of my family. Being around him reminded me of what it was to be young.
"Let's go," he said and grabbed my hand and led me to his car.
We drove to the bonfire with music blasting. It was as if he didn't care the music would damage his hearing in the future; he was living in the now and that was enough for him. It was contagious as I turned the music up even louder.
"Jake's my buddy from my previous school," he explained over the music as we pulled up in a wooded gravel drive. Peter turned off the car and smiled at me as if excited I was here with him, then got out with a spring in his step.
I didn't have time to explain that I was nervous about meeting all of his friends. I had never been to a party before and I didn't have time to prep. With A deep breath, I got out of his car and followed him into the backyard.
Behind the modest ranch house stood a huge bonfire with over 40 people around it. "Let me introduce you to Jake," Peter said, and lead me through the crowd.
I grabbed the eyes of almost everyone; they stared at me for a second before going back to whatever they were doing before. And like they did with me, I couldn't help but look at them as we passed. Everyone looked so put together and model like with their outfits. I felt self-conscious once again that my hoodie and leggings weren't good enough for this outing. If these were the kids he went to school with beforehand, why did he show interest in plain me?
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"Peter! You made it!" a kid came up with short blonde hair called out to us.
"Heck yeah. I wouldn't miss a bonfire of yours for the world. Oh, Jake, I want to introduce my girlfriend. This is Clare," Peter said, pointing at me.
"Hey Clare!" He said and shook my hand then pulled me in for a side hug. He had a faint smell of something I hadn't smelt recently, liquor. The powerful smell burnt my nose slightly as I remembered the one time a few months ago Farrah came home drunk. I was just glad that my parents were home to witness me holding her hair as she vomited into the toilet.
"I've known Peter for a long time, and let me tell you, you picked a good one," he explained with a smile.
I smiled politely as we broke out into a group conversation until Jake left us, saying hello to someone else that just arrived at the party. "He seems nice," I said after he walked off.
"He's the best," Peter said to me.
"Hey Peter! Want to throw the ball around?" someone called out to him in the field.
He looked at me as if getting permission. I didn't want him to leave me alone with strangers, but I also didn't want to be the girlfriend that I always saw on TV, too controlling. Instead of saying what I really wanted, I confidently said, "Go! I'll be fine." I flashed a smile at him to show that I was ok in reality all I wanted to do was hide in his shadow.
He smiled, then kissed me on the cheek before he ran off to join his friends. I stood and watched him, prepared to stay here in this spot until he returned to me. But after a minute of standing, lightheadedness took its hold, leaving me no choice but to sit down on a log by the fire.
I picked a log that was far enough from everyone else, then pulled out my phone to pretend I was doing something. I felt the log move slightly and as I looked up; I saw that someone had sat next to me. He smiled as he took out his guitar and started playing. "Hey, do you sing?" he asked me.
I glanced around to make sure he was really talking to me. There was no one else around, but I didn't understand why he would want to sit beside me. Just to make sure, I asked, "Me?" I wasn't used to people my age talking to me.
"Yes you. Do you sing? I love to play but my voice's rubbish."
I shook my head. The last thing I wanted to do was to have more people look at me more than they already were. I just wanted to dissolve without Peter by my side. "No, I don't."
"Oh, that's a pity. So you know Jake?"
"Actually, I just met him tonight. I'm with Peter."
"Ah, tall, dark, and dreamy Peter. It's about time he got a girlfriend," he mused.
"You mean he hasn't had a girlfriend before?" I hadn't had enough guts to ask him about his past relationships yet, because I knew he would ask about mine. I haven't quite made up a story about why I haven't had a boyfriend before. But the fact that he hadn't had one was fascinating to me since Farrah, who was only 15, had at least four relationships.
He strummed a few chords on the guitar as he thought. "I mean; he's been on dates but never had a solid girlfriend. We were on the same rugby team and he was never with any girl, not like us."
"Why's that?" I asked, begging for more information, seeing him as a well of knowledge.
He shrugged at me, then looked back at the guitar. "Don't know. Why don't you ask him. After all, you're with him," he grinned.
Ok mister smarty pants, thanks for nothing.
"Are you sure you don't sing? You look like a singer and I'm normally not wrong about looks."
I chuckled at him politely. He was too pushy, and I wanted him to leave me alone. I was perfectly happy being alone until he showed up. "I rather not sing, thank you."
He was quiet as Peter came up beside me. "Hey, I see you met Frank," Peter said with a smile.
Frank smiled at me. "Yeah, we talked. You found yourself a keeper, Peter."
Peter put his arm around me, then pulled me into him. I instantly felt more at home with him by my side, knowing that people would talk to him now instead of me.
"Yeah, I thought I did too."
I felt his lips press against my temple, and I resisted the urge to blush.
As Frank played guitar Peter nudged my neck, his nose tickling my skin. The simple gesture set my skin on fire, making me feel alive, something that I hadn't felt in years. Now I had it, I didn't want to let these feeling go. I needed to keep this feeling burning within me.
Frank switched songs, and Peter started singing along. However, I knew the song like the back of my hand and Peter was singing the wrong lyrics. "You're singing the words wrong," I chucked at him.
"Then why don't you show me how it's done," he suggested.
I eyed him. I didn't want to bring more attention to myself than I already was bringing tonight. But I knew I would be safe by his side. People would talk to him and pay little attention to me, like normal. If I sang, it left no room for speaking and I wanted that. I opened my mouth and sang the lyrics that I heard on the radio.
"I knew you could sing!" Frank said to me as he played louder.
I smiled at him as I sang. He wasn't wrong, but I wouldn't admit that. As the song went on, I felt myself get lost in it, paying attention to only the beets and the sounds I was making. As the song ended, I noticed that we had gathered people around us to listen.
They clapped loudly, showing their support, and I blushed in embarrassment. This didn't play out the way I thought it would. I knew they were being kind because I hit some wrong notes in there. They had to be judging me. I knew I shouldn't have sung; I didn't want to bring this kind of attention to myself. It made me feel uncomfortable.
Frank started playing another song. I knew this one too well. "Come on, know this one," Frank said to me, egging me on.
I shook my head at him, not wanting to go further into the pit that I already dug. Saving me from more embarrassment, I felt something drip from my nose. I brought my hand to my nose and saw blood. I frowned, knowing what this meant.
I quickly got up from my seat, which made me feel dizzy. Too fast, slow down. Breath. I reached down for Peter to stabilize myself. "Peter. Where's the bathroom?" I asked him as I looked at the house, trying to hide my nose bleed from him.
"It's just inside to the right. Here I'll show you. Is everything ok?" he asked as he got up from his set to look at me. He frowned as he saw my nose.
So much for hiding it from him. I held my free hand to my nose so he wouldn't be able to see much more. "Yeah, I am fine." I felt light-headed with every step I took, and I was having a hard time following him. Please, this couldn't happen now. I need him to believe I was ok. "Can you slow down?" I begged, as I struggled to keep up.
Almost instantly, he slowed down and put his hand around my waist. We got to the house, and we took a left into a small corridor that led to the bathroom.
I got into the bathroom without another word and locked the door behind me. I sunk to the floor as pushed my back against it wall. I was going to pass out. I took a deep breath to keep myself under control.
"Are you going to be ok?" Peter's voice rang out on the other side of the door.
"Yes. Just give me a minute," I said to him as I stuffed napkins up my nose. At that second I felt sick to my stomach. I went onto my knees and leaned over the toilet just in time to lose my dinner into the porcelain bowl. I frowned into it, knowing that the side effects were starting early this time.
"Clare, are you sure you are ok? We can leave," Peter's voice rang out from the other side.
Panic went through me. He was still here? He would have heard that. I thought he was going to go back to the party so he wouldn't hear me hurl on the other side of the door. I wanted him to leave. He was making this secret keeping very hard. "No, I don't want to leave, enjoy the party. I told you, I just need a minute," I said as I hugged the toilet. I put my face against the cold porcelain as I tried to keep from vomiting again.
Minutes ticked by as I stayed in that same spot for a few minutes until I didn't feel sick anymore. Slowly, I got up from the floor with a splitting headache. The room spun and I felt like vomiting again. I held back tears that wanted to come to my face. Forget about the party, I just wanted to go home. Why did my body ruin everything? I wanted to be in control. But frustratingly, I couldn't do anything to control this.
I shivered then brought my hand to my forehead, it was hot. I looked at the mirror to make sure I was presentable enough. It looked like I just saw a ghost. My make-up had faded completely and once again I looked too worn out and tired for summer. I looked terrible and there was no way of hiding it. I splashed some water on my face as if that would help anything.
With a deep breath and a prayer, I opened the door hesitantly, hoping that Peter wouldn't notice my state. I laid my eyes on Peter who was sitting on the floor against the opposite wall looking at his phone. His red shirt matched the wallpaper behind him. Red suited him, making his dark hair stand out. Gosh, he was so handsome.
Breaking me from my thoughts was when he looked up from his phone at me and flashed a small smile but in a second, his smile faded into a frown. "We're going home."
I nodded at him without saying anything to him. Right now, that was all I wanted to do.
He held my hand lightly as if he was going to hurt me if he grabbed too hard. It made me feel worse then I already was.
"I'll text Jake that we are leaving," he said and held the car door open for me.
I nodded at him again without saying a word. I figured it was better not to say anything at this moment. I just felt embarrassed that this happened. I was making him leave early from his friends party. I had no intention of showing this side of me but it happened.
I needed to come up with a good lie so he wouldn't suspect anything. A part of me knew that it was only time until he found out. But another part of me wanted to keep up this act as long as possible.
We drove home in suffocating silence as we listened to his music softly play in the background. I think he was hoping for an explanation but I wasn't going to give it to him, not yet. "Thanks for coming tonight. I was really glad you could come with me," he said finally as we drove into the neighborhood.
I held back a sigh of relief. Good, he was talking to me. He wasn't mad. "I had fun too." Until I totally I made a scene.
There was a minute of silence again and he spoke up. "You know, maybe you should check out that nose bleed. You get those often. Maybe there is something medical to that," he suggested.
I held back a cynical chuckle. If only he knew. "Yeah, I should check it out. I'll talk to my parents."
There was a minute of silence and then he said, "you didn't tell me you sang. You stole the show tonight."
I blushed as I thought about the song I sang. That might have been true, but my nose bleed uncontrollably, messing up the moment. "Thanks. I hadn't sung in such a long time. It was fun." Singing tonight made me realize what I was missing. I did enjoy singing, just because I had cancer didn't mean I should stop the things I loved. In reality, it was stupid that I stopped singing because of it.
We pulled up into the driveway and Peter quickly parked the car then went to open the car door for me. I got out of the car and gave him a small smile. Thank goodness the ride was long. As I looked at the house in front of me, I didn't feel as sick anymore. My parents would probably not notice that anything was wrong. "Thank you for the night," I said to him again.
He nodded, then kissed me lightly on the cheek. "I'll see you soon."
With that, I walked up into the house to find that my parents were waiting for me in the living room.
"How was it?" mom asked me as she looked up from her book.
I shrugged as I tried to play it off as nothing spectacular. "It was fun." Until I had a massive nose bleed and vomited into a stranger's toilet, but I won't bore you with the details.
"Do you know what time it is?" dad asked me with a frown.
"No..." my voice trailed off. I honestly forgot my parents wanted me back at a certain time. I hadn't been out in such a long time that I forgot about the clock.
"It's 11. I wanted you home at 10:30."
"Well, I forgot. I'm sorry," I said indifferently.
"Please don't let it happen again, Clare. We were getting worried," mom got up from the couch to look at me better. "Is that blood on your shirt?" she asked as she got closer to me.
I looked at my shirt and saw a spot of red on my hoodie. I held back a frown. She had eyes like a hawk. "Nah, it was some fruit punch at the party. I had a full cup and I let some fall on my shirt. The ground was uneven, I tripped," I lied to them easily.
Mom eyed me. She didn't quite believe my lie. But I stood with it.
"There were some other snacks that I probably spilled on my outfit as well. It was dark." I shrugged with a yawn. "I'm tired so I'm going to bed."
I gave them both a hug goodnight, then trudged up the stairs, afraid that if I went any faster, I would trip and fall on my face. I still felt dizzy, but I took care that my parents wouldn't notice how I was really feeling. When I got into my room, I saw Farrah sewing something on the floor.
"How was your night?" I asked her as I sat on a bunk bed.
"Uneventful. I wanted to go out and do something but all my friends seem too busy for me," she pouted as she continued to hand stitch a pair of pants.
"I know a thing or two about that." I could speak firsthand about having all of my friends ditch me and act like they were too busy. It sucked, but I knew it too well.
"I don't know how you deal with that, Clare. I hate it."
I shrugged. "I didn't say that I enjoyed it." After many tear-filled nights, I got over it. I realized I was better off without them. "I got used to it. But now, I want to have a social life."
"Well, getting a boyfriend's a good start. And can I just say that he's cute?" she winked.
I gave a small chuckle. She wasn't wrong. "Yeah. Anyhow, I'm wiped. Can I turn off the light?"
"Be my guest, I want to go to bed anyhow."