Awakening to Life Page 3

  “Excuse me,” I manage to whisper. I dissect myself from his arms and try to move away quickly.

  “Hey.” He reaches for my arm and gently turns me around again. “Not so fast.”

  I stare up at him. He is a few centimetres taller than me. He has blond hair that is shaved short on the sides and slightly longer at the top. His skin is clear of pimples and his eyes are just that bit too small for his face, but they are bright blue. The colour of sapphires that they superimpose on the heroes in films. But his are natural.

  “Do you need a ride home?” he asks gently.

  I almost start crying again. He is being especially nice to the girl with cancer. It feels just as bad as I had imagined. But my heart flutters when I realise his hand is still touching my arm. My stomach churns.

  “Yes.” The word escapes from my mouth before I think it through. But Dad would have trouble leaving work so early and I didn’t want to suffer a full day of school. Not today. So, I retrieve my bag from my locker and follow him through the grounds. The student car park is always popular, but Jayden’s car sits next to the gym, in prime position.

  “The advantages of early morning soccer practise,” he says, taking my bag and placing it in the boot. He unlocks the passenger door by key and holds it open as I crawl in. It is a small, beaten up vehicle; bright green and only big enough for two people really, although there are seats in the back. His ‘P’ plates are the only new addition to the car. Still, the engine cranks to life when Jayden turns the key. He eases it from the park easily and follows my directions to my house.

  He talks about soccer in between instructions, telling me about the team and how he loves training. He asks me questions about netball, but I have not played in a year. My house is ten minutes away from the school. We pull into the driveway after fifteen minutes, with Jayden’s slow driving.

  “Can I ask you something?” he says when the car engine cuts out. I twist my body to face him and wait. He seems to be struggling. His mouth opens and closes several times before he actually speaks. “It’s good to have someone who knows what it’s like to have a sibling with cancer. It would be great to have someone to talk to about it?”

  He states it like a question and watches my reaction. I feel like I have been slapped. He thinks Josh has cancer, not me. Part of me is disappointed. The other part is relieved. It is not sympathy. I have not been found out. I can continue with my normal life.

  “Do you want to come in?” I ask.

  “Sure.”

  “Are you okay to skip school? Won’t your parents be mad?” I regret it as soon as I say it. As if he would care. He is one of the ‘cool’ kids.

  “Not when I tell them what happened.”

  I nod, not sure that I want his parents informed of my breakdown. We get out of the car and I let us into the house. I drop my bag at the door and Jayden does the same.

  “Do you want to watch a movie?”

  He nods and I lead him into the living room. We sit on the ground in front of the television cabinet, pulling out DVD after DVD until we both agree on The Invincibles. I grin at the choice, and he seems just as excited.

  “So, your sister has cancer?” I ask slowly. His fists clench, but he lifts himself from the floor and flops onto the couch.

  “Yeah.”

  “When was she diagnosed?”

  “A few months ago,” he replies.

  “How old is she?”

  “Four.”

  “What type of cancer?” I ask.

  “Acute lymphocytic leukemia. A bit of a mouthful, hey?”

  The initial credits begin to roll across the screen. I sit on the opposite side of the couch, with my feet tucked under my body.

  “How about you brother?”

  “Fourteen years old.” I hesitate. “Diagnosed two years ago.”

  “Type of cancer?”

  “Chronic myelogenous leukemia, or CML.”

  He nods, although I doubt he has any idea what it is. The movie starts and we stop talking. He laughs at all the right parts. It is fun. He does not sneak sidelong glances at me, checking to see whether I am okay. I relax.

  When Dad and Josh arrive home, we are still watching the movie. Josh slumps down between us, after just a quick introduction to Jayden. Dad goes into the kitchen and starts cooking dinner.

  “Are you staying for dinner Jayden?”

  “No. I’d better head home.”

  He gets up. “Good to meet you, Josh. Mitch.”

  “Drive safe,” Dad replies. Josh nods and slumps back down into the couch, tapping at his phone. I walk Jayden out the door and to his car.

  “Thanks for dropping me home. I had fun,” I say, ducking my head so he cannot see my blush.

  “Yeah. I had a fun too. Thanks.” He leans forward. I see his feet shuffle forward. He wraps his arms around me. I sneak my arms around his waist. We stand there for a few seconds, and then I pull away. I struggle to meet his eyes, so I focus on the point between them.

  He smiles. “I’ll see you at school.”

  I return to the house and offer to help Dad with dinner. He sends me back to the living room to lie down. I sit with Josh, pick up my tattered library copy of George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, and begin reading. It is interesting, but depressing. I start skimming some parts, mostly the book within the book. Soon enough, dinner is ready and I have a good excuse to quit reading.

  We all sit at the table and eat Dad’s spaghetti. Mum arrives home just as Dad sits down. She drops her bags at the cupboard by the door and rushes to join us for dinner.

  “So, what happened at school today?” Dad asks. “And who is Jayden?”

  “Her boyfriend,” Josh suggests quickly and Mum splashes spaghetti on her uniform.

  “What?! You have a boyfriend?”

  “No,” I reply calmly. “He’s a friend. He dropped me home from school today. I was just upset. They showed a sad documentary in religion.”

  “You okay now?” Dad asks.

  “Yes.”

  “And how are you feeling?” Mum asks.

  “All good. Tired and a bit sore, but not bad,” I say. “How was your day Josh?”

  “Good!” he replies. “I had a relief teacher for science, so we did an experiment with the Bunsen burners.”

  “Nice. And you, Viv?” Dad asks Mum.

  The conversation rolls easily, moving away from how I feel and touching on everyone else in the family. My phone beeps during dinner, but I wait until after all the washing up is finished before I check it. It is a text from Paul:

  Hey A. You free tomorrow? To come visit my sick bed. ;-P

  “Hey, Dad!” I call. “Can I visit Paul at the hospital after school tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  I text Paul back and return to my book. After forty more pages, I decide to go to sleep. My whole body sags with exhaustion.

  Chapter 4

  For the rest of the week, I spend a lot of time with Jayden during lunches. He is easy to talk to and neither of us mention cancer at school. His friends are welcoming, if a little confused as to why I am there. On Thursday, Hailey pulls me aside, dragging me to a far corner of the oval.

  “You have some explaining to do,” she says. “What is up with you and Jayden?!”

  I laugh. “He’s really cool. He drove me home on Monday and we’ve been hanging out.”

  “So, are you dating?”

  “No! We’re friends.”

  “No way! You guys totally can’t keep your eyes off each other. Something’s going on and you’re not telling me!!” Hailey wails in my ear. I attempt to shush her inconspicuously. Jayden is looking at us. He winks when we make eye contact and starts walking over to join us.

  “What do you want me to say, Hailey?” I turn my back on Jayden, totally dedicated to placating my only fema
le friend. “We’re friends, I swear!”

  Hailey finally sees Jayden approaching and stops talking. We are sitting in silence when he reaches us.

  “Can I join you, ladies?” Jayden sits by my side without waiting for an answer.

  “Just admit it, Alison,” Hailey says in an offhand manner. People on the other side of the city are probably aware of my embarrassment from the intensity of the heat radiating from my cheeks.

  “What?” He grins easily. “Did you predict that a sexy man like me would join you for lunch?”

  I choke on my sandwich. Hailey bursts into laughter. Thankfully, I am saved from replying by Hailey, who decides to interrogate Jayden. It is mostly innocent; stuff about his hobbies, school subjects and so on. It gets awkward when she asks about his family. We exchange a look, but Hailey manages to miss it and he gives the predictable response: two parents, four-year-old sister, one dog.

  The bell rings and Jayden pulls me to his feet; then helps Hailey when she complains. We walk slowly from the oval, to our lockers. From there, we part ways. Hailey saunters off to physics or chemistry, or some other absurdly difficult class she insists on taking just to “keep her options open”.

  Jayden and I have art together. The room is a haphazard collection of furniture and props, even more so than the drama department. The teacher wanders around the room to check on us. But we all do our own thing.

  I settle into my favourite chair in the corner of the room. It sits directly under a low window, which serves as both a source of light and inspiration. Jayden immediately locates the keys to the supply cabinet. It covers the entire length of the wall. Jayden retrieves one of the SLR cameras for the double lesson. I start on my latest sketch. It is an abstract concept of a woman and a tree, combined into one figure. Or, at least, that is what I am planning.

  I am ripped from my bubble of concentration by a sudden succession of clicking. The irritating sound only stops when I look up and glare into the lens of the camera.

  Jayden snaps another photo before slowly lowering the camera and meeting my angry expression. “Oh, come on, Allie! The lighting was perfect!” He shuffles uncomfortably as I refuse to drop my gaze.

  “You look beautiful?” He states it like a question, like it will get him out of trouble. Despite myself, I melt slightly.

  “Go away, Jayden. Take your camera elsewhere.” I hold the stern look until he turns away, walking self consciously to the cluster of computers on the opposite side of the room. I smile, turning back to my sketching.

  The double lesson flies by. I manage to complete a succession of sketches and end up with number of versions I could use—or even meld—together to create my final image. I imagine seeing it on a massive canvas. Then I remember what Dr. Marsden said. I frown at the pictures sadly, thinking that I would be better off just taking them home. The canvas would take a long time to complete.

  Jayden walks over carrying an A2 sheet of shiny paper, holding the white side to face me, hiding the photo. “You ready to go?” he asks, eying my sketch pad.

  “Yeah.” I leap up, stuffing my art books and pencils into my bag. I become aware of a dull pain in my hip. Great. I shake my head slightly and try to focus on the present. “What have you printed?”

  “It’s just something I did today,” he mumbles, trying to brush my hand away as I go to pull the photo around to face me.

  “Please Jayden?” I pout, and then realise that I am flirting. I look away quickly. Jayden stares at me.

  “It’s, umm…” he avoids my eyes and starts walking towards the car park. I grab his arm and spin him around to face me.

  “Just show me,” I demand in what I hope is a cool and collected voice of authority.

  “Fine.” He spins the photo around carefully, so as not to crease the paper. I see an enlarged photo of myself. It must be the one he took at the start of the lesson. My hair flows freely, framing my face. I sit in a tunnel of light from the window. My eyelashes are long and dark. My lips are pressed together with the slight tension of concentration. I look angelic.

  I gasp. I feel beautiful. “It’s wonderful,” I say.

  “You’re beautiful.” He takes my hand and refuses to let go until we reach the car park. We already have our bags packed from art, so we bypass the crowd of students at the lockers. I am relieved. There is no one to jeer or catcall.

  When we reach the gate he asks, “Do you want to come over tonight?”

  It is not the first time he has asked this week. But today, there is an added weight to the question. Something is different; in a good way. In an absolutely amazing way. Only, I cannot say yes. My body is heavier with each step and an intense pain thumps at my left side.

  “I can’t. I have to go home.”

  His smile drops. I hope he hears the regret in my voice. Still, he understands. He thinks my brother has cancer. By now he must have Googled what I told him about Josh’s cancer, my cancer. I hate myself for letting him continue to believe the lie. But at the same time, I am nowhere near brave enough to risk losing him. I cannot tell him the truth.

  “Bye.” I squeeze his hand and leave for Dad’s car. Sitting down makes my hips hurt more, but I say nothing. Dad talks about his day at work while we wait for Josh. I half listen.

  When Josh jumps into the car, I tune out while the two of them chatter. Dad drops me off at the hospital and I make my way up to the oncology ward. As soon as Dad is out of sight, I pop two painkillers from my bag. After all the lifts and corridors, I literally stomp into the teen lounge and fling myself down onto the sofa next to Paul.

  “What’s got you in a huff, sunshine?” Paul teases, laughing and patting my hair.

  “Dying,” I snarl, moving away before he ruins my hair. Paul chuckles, I send him a poisonous glare which I hope will shut him up. No such luck.

  “I thought you were here to cheer me up?” he asks, clearly amused.

  “I can’t really be bothered!” I start to smile as well. Maybe the painkillers are kicking in. “What’s news with you?”

  “Oh, you know. The usual. Fading away from life here.” He sticks his tongue out. I do the same. “You know what? I am starving. I would kill for a coke and cheese toastie.”

  I smile. “We can do that.”

  I lift myself up and Paul follows me from the room. We are stopped even before he fully emerges in the hallway.

  “Paul McBride. Where are you going? Your mum is looking for you.” She leads him away. We both grimace.

  “I’ll get you some food and meet you in your room,” I call.

  He is led away. I head down to the café without him. The shop is mostly deserted. Two women cluck over their steaming coffees and an elderly man nibbles at a slice of mud cake. I place an order for Paul and grab an orange juice for myself. I lean against the wall and stare out at the people in the foyer. My eyes flit from person to person, until I double take. Jayden. He strides down the stairs. My gaze attracts his attention. He looks up and our eyes meet.

  “Hey!” He hurries towards me. “So we meet again.”

  He hugs me. It is a little awkward. I am not sure where I stand with him.

  “Hi. Is Rosie okay?” I ask.

  His face falls. “I guess so.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He nods. I lead him to a table in the cafe and we sit down. I push Paul to the back of my mind and try not to think of him. This is more important.

  “Well, she’s been through the clinical staging,” he begins. “And that was hard, you know? The first step?” He takes a deep breath, it’s a little shaky and I am afraid he will fall to pieces.

  “She’s started chemo,” he says in one quick go, as if the confession has somehow escaped against his will. “She’s losing her hair. It’s just falling out in chunks every time anyone touches it. And she’s throwing up all the time. She’s losing a lot of we
ight and still, she keeps freaking throw up!”

  He closes his eyes and pushes his palm over his face. He runs the other shaky hand through his hair. His whole body hunches over the table. He avoids my gaze. “I don’t know what to do…what to say. There’s nothing I can do to help her. She’s so small—It shouldn’t be her. This should never have happened to her.”

  His voice escapes as a whisper. I place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. He leans into my touch so I move closer and press my body against his, wrapping my arms around him and continuing to massage his arms.