Song is for the start of the chapter! Enjoy!
Darla H
I looked out the window in my bedroom as I tossed a ball up in the air and caught it, tying to waste time. I looked at the book on my nightstand that I just finished a day ago with a frown. With the finish of that, all my thoughts devoted to Peter.
It had been six days since Peter drove me to the hospital, and I hadn't heard from him since that night. I kept on reaching for my phone hoping to see a text from him but my phone quickly returned to a fancy paperweight since no one actually texted me besides him. I knew I screwed up my chance with him. He wouldn't want to be with me now that he saw me as a liar that was too fragile to be with.
What killed me the most was that I kept hoping for a text from him, explaining, but deep down I knew I would get no texts and no calls from Peter. He learned all too quickly that I was too much work to be with and he didn't want to put in that time. He had more important things to do than to have a dying girl as a girlfriend. I couldn't blame him since I don't think I would want to be dating a dying person, either. It would be way too depressing.
As hurt as I was, I knew it was selfish to keep him around. But I would miss him. I would miss every moment we had, knowing that we wouldn't have any more of them, knowing that I wouldn't have any more of them. Peter made me feel normal. We hadn't dated long, but with that small amount of time, I saw a change in my attitude. I saw myself being more genuine, loving, smiley, more like my old self.
I chucked the ball at the door in frustration just before Farrah walked into the room. She practically bounced to me with a smile on her face. She was planning something, but I wasn't in the mood to do anything. "Want to go somewhere?"
I shook my head at her, not even willing to know where she wanted to go. I was sure nothing would make me feel better. Maybe my parents were right, I should have stayed home. That was safer. "Nah, I'll pass." If I just stayed here with my books, at least they wouldn't hurt me.
She frowned at me, not liking my response. "Clare you can't just keep moping like this. You have to do something."
Her words were harsh, like sandpaper, and I didn't like them. I needed someone to hold me, not verbally slap me. I looked at her with tears in my eyes and said, "watch me. I'm so fed up with everything. I can't get it out of my mind that I blew it. Just when I thought I could be something other than a cancer patient, crap happens. I get nothing I want since cancer always screws things up!" By the end, I was shouting at her.
I threw another paper ball at the wall in anger. It bounced off the wall and almost hit Farrah in the head as it rebounded. "Why can't I just get one thing that's mine?" I asked through my tears. "He's never going to want to date me. He's never going to want to even talk to me. If he hasn't done it now, he's never going to."
She picked up the ball that was by her feet and stood there quiet for a moment. She tossed the ball up in the air a few times as she chewed her bottom lip in thought. After a minute, she dropped the ball, then put her hands on her hips. "Well, he was going to find out one way or another," she said matter-of-factly. With that, she turned on her heals and left the room.
What she said might have had truth to it, but I wanted to make him believe I was fine forever. That was my dream for him to never know. I was doing a good job at it, I thought, until a few days ago. I wanted to keep that idea until I really was ok because I wanted nothing to change.
I sat by the window for another few minutes until I realized I was hungry. I got up from my seat and walked downstairs into the kitchen. I rummaged around in the fridge until I found an apple. Satisfied with it, I walked outside into the backyard to eat it. I sat on a swing and lightly pushed myself as I bit into the fruit in my hand.
I listened to the birds chirping and flying around in the summer air. They were so free up in the sky. They could go where ever they wanted to on a whim. I would love to be a bird like that, be free with no care in the world.
Breaking me from my thoughts was Farrah, who came running out to me with a smile on her face once again, as if the small fight we had never happened. "Clare!"
I frowned at her, not ready to be slapped verbally again. I took a deep breath to brace myself. "What?" I snapped.
"I'm going with Brenna and a few others to a before-school dance. Want to come?"
Why was she asking me this question when she knew our parents wouldn't allow it. There were too many things that could go wrong in an environment like that. "I don't think mom and dad would approve of that."
"They suggested it." She shrugged then asked, "want to come? If so we need to get ready now."
I thought about it for a second. I hadn't been to a school dance in forever, and it sounded fun. Maybe it would be good for me to leave the house and get my mind off of everything. But I had nothing to wear. But I could find something. I was sure I had something in the back of my closet. "Ok sure," I said to her and got up from the swing and followed her into the house.
Without wasting another moment, went back to my room where I rummaged through the closet with few clothes in it.
Note to self, I need to go shopping for new outfits.
Within a few minutes, I found a small dress stuffed in the back of the closet to collect dust. Content with my find, I walked into the bathroom to get ready.
I put on a little dress and quickly realized that even this didn't really fit me right. Knowing that I had nothing else, I brushed some makeup on quickly and I looked at the mirror. I pulled at the dress that was loose on me, which made me look even thinner than I was. Even with the makeup, I didn't couldn't hide the fact that I looked like a baggy mess.
This had to be one reason Peter didn't want to be with me anymore. He finally saw me for what I was and sickly cancer patient. I wasn't beautiful like the other girls he surrounded himself with. There was no way that I could compare to those girls Peter knew. He wanted a prettier girl to be with. Someone that when he was within the public, pass byers would double-take and think that they were one beautiful couple.
I ran my hands through my hair as I tried to smooth it out. As my hands went through my hair, I found my fingers pulling out a small chuck of almost white-blonde hair. I was going to lose my hair, again.
I felt my eyes well up with tears as I looked at the small nest in my hand. I shook my head, refusing to think about the topic that I couldn't change. There was no use in crying about spilled milk. If I was going to lose it, I was going to lose it and there was no use crying about it. I took a deep breath to calm myself down. I knew that this might happen; I had cancer; I was on a new treatment. But man, this sucked.
"Clare? Are you ready? Let's go!" Farrah called out to me from down the stairs.
I took a breath to calm myself. I didn't want to show signs I wasn't ok. Quickly I threw the hair in the trash, then forced a smile at my reflection. "Coming!" I called out as I quickly put on some red lipstick, then walked downstairs to see her and her friends laughing about something.
Farrah smiled at me, happy that I was either going or that I dressed up, maybe both. She then turned to her friends. "Great, let's go."