Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Yes. All right? Yes. I’m sick. Congratulations, you cracked the code.” If anything, there’s freedom in the truth. I rest my head against the pillow behind it, sighing. “You know my secret now.”
“Sick, how? Is this…” Easton looks like he doesn’t want to say it. His eyebrows pull together in a thick line and his throat works before I can’t take it anymore and have to say it.
“Chemotherapy.” The word lands like lead. “I come here twice a week for chemo.”
“So that’s what it is.” Preston’s jaw tightens, and Easton’s shoulders slump, and if I didn’t know better, I would think they really feel sorry for me. Like it actually matters what I’m going through. I know that’s not true—I’m a toy for them. Something to keep them occupied since they’re so bored with their lives.
“That’s what it is,” I whisper.
“The wig. Fuck.” Preston lowers his head into his hands. “So fucking stupid. I should have guessed.”
“But what kind of cancer?” Easton sits on my other side in one of the chairs that would usually be used if there was somebody else getting an infusion at the same time as me. Here I am, usually alone through all of this, and now I’ve got more company than I know what to do with. And I’m trapped, which makes it funny in a sad, depressing kind of way.
“Leukemia. That’s why I moved here. There were better treatment options than what I had back home.”
“So that’s why you were sick. That’s why you were throwing up that night.” It’s Easton’s turn to look miserable, like he’s mad at himself. “It’s so obvious now.”
“Yeah, now you know,” I reply. “But the whole point was for you to not know. I didn’t want anyone to find out.”
I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry when they hit me with the same confused expression. Like they really don’t get it. “But why?” Preston asks. “Are you embarrassed or something? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I know that.” When he arches an eyebrow, I can only shrug. “You have to go through something like this to understand. The two of you… You’ve got it all figured out. I mean, everything seems so easy for you.”
“It’s not, but go on,” Preston grits out.
“I wish somebody would let me know when life gets easy,” Easton mutters. Big surprise, they’re both focusing on the wrong thing.
“Have you ever felt like a complete burden?” I take a second to pause after the question because I really want them to think about it. “Did you lose both your parents out of nowhere? Were you diagnosed with cancer just before your 18th birthday? Did you have to move to a new place where you didn’t know anybody?”
“Okay, okay,” Preston murmurs, looking at Easton. “I think we get it.”
Dammit. This is exactly what I didn’t want! I mean, yeah, have there been moments when I wished like hell I could rub their noses in it? Wouldn’t they feel terrible for using me if they knew what’s really happening in my life? I wish I could enjoy it now, but all I see when they look at me is pity. Exactly what I never wanted to see again from anybody. I’ve had enough of it.
“Don’t feel sorry for me.” My voice is firm, maybe a little louder than it needs to be, but I need them to hear me. “I’m going to be fine. The doctors are really hopeful. Don’t go picking out your funeral outfits or anything.”
Easton winces. “That’s pretty dark. And if I’m saying that, you know it’s true.”
“I guess I’m in a pretty dark mood. Maybe it has to do with…” I wave a hand toward the tubes attached to the port in my arm.
“Does that hurt?” Preston nods toward it, frowning.
I shake my head. “Nope. I don’t really feel it at all. That’s why I wear the sleeve on my arm, to keep everything in one place. If I got one of the ports caught on something, then yes, it would probably hurt, and I would have to have the line reinserted, and I don’t want that.”
“This is the big secret you were trying to keep?” Easton sounds seriously confused. “Why didn’t you just tell people the truth?”
“Do you know what it’s like to walk around knowing everybody sees you as a ghost? Like they’re surprised to even see you at all? All it took was one person overhearing I was sick, and all of a sudden, I was everybody’s charity case. Poor, poor Emma.” Just thinking about it makes my heart beat faster. “It was bad enough when my parents died. Everybody already knew about that. They already treated me different. Then they found out I had cancer, and it was like, what a tragedy. Let’s stare at her everywhere she goes.”