Awakening to Life Page 4

  “You’re doing all you can,” I say, my heart thumping. “It may not seem like much, but you’re helping Rosie by just being there for her. She needs the people who love her to keep her company and hold her hand when she’s sick.”

  We sit like that for while, neither of us speaking. Then Jayden starts talking. He tells me about when Rosie was little and how she was such an energetic baby, always getting into places she should not be. We both smile as he tells me story after story, reliving his happiest memories of his sister. He progresses on to Rosie’s recent diagnosis. She is four years old and oblivious to the scary truth of her cancer. She still pretends that she is a princess and laughs at the morning cartoons.

  Time passes in a blur and I contemplate telling Jayden the truth. How will he react? Will he hate me? Will he be awkward around me, or treat me differently? Fear wells inside me as I imagine losing him as a friend, and as whatever else he seems to have become to me.

  Finally, we both fall to silence. “I should get back to them,” Jayden says. I nod. Paul’s memory resurfaces and I feel a stab of guilt. I stand and Jayden follows.

  “Bye,” I say, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around him. Jayden pulls out of the hug and leans in his head. His lips touch mine. They are as soft as pillows, caressing my cracked skin. My mouth falls open and his presses into mine. They meld together effortlessly. My stomach flutters and blood rushes to my cheeks. His hands burn against my waist.

  He pulls away. “Goodbye, Allie.”

  “Bye.”

  He pulls himself from the chair and rises to his feet. With one last glance and squeeze of my arm, he leaves. I remain still for a moment and then turn to watch him disappear up the stairs. I press my fingers to my lips.

  Seconds pass, and I start to move on automatic. I have Paul’s toastie reheated and slowly shuffle to the lift, making my way back to Paul’s room. He is alone. I sit on the edge of his bed and he takes the food eagerly.

  “What took you so long?” He takes a huge bite and look up, just in time to catch sight of a tear making its way down my cheek.

  I know what I must look like, what he is seeing. It is a wonder Jayden has not yet noticed. My skin has a white sheen to it and I hold myself like I am a hundred years old, and not sixteen. Even within the bed, my joints seem to be all hunched over. I struggle to put weight on my hips and the left side of my body. His eyes narrow in concern when he sees me. I watch him through my tears and realise that he no longer looks sick. His hair is growing back and while it is short, with his fully grown eyebrows, he looks like a normal teenager. I am shocked by the realisation. Paul is wearing faded jeans and a grey jumper that fits him perfectly. He has actually gained weight. He pulls a pack of cards from the pocket of the jumper and smiles at me.

  “You want to play?” he asks, indicating at the deck.

  “No.” It hurts to look at the tiny symbols and numbers on each card, it’s like they’re dancing in front of my eyes and playing tricks with my brain. Can we just talk?”

  “Sure.”

  He sits up easily, each movement is swift and fluent. “You look good,” I say, pausing. “Are you in remission?”

  The question surprises even me. His eyes widen and I see the pain in them. I open my mouth to apologise, guilt flooding through me. But Paul is quicker. “Yes,” he whispers. My eyebrows turn inwards and I stare at him in confusion, my eyes raking over his face. “I’m so sorry, Allie.”

  I say nothing. He has been sicker than me. He has had cancer for longer.

  I am dying alone. He feels guilty. I am dying and he is not. I start crying more forcefully than before. I cannot stop. Whilst I am happy for him, my new friend, I am devastated for myself. In this moment, I feel all hope drain from my body.

  “The cancer’s losing. I’ve started a clinical trial. Doctor Marshall said it has great promise and I think it’s really working, Allie! I’m going into remission.” His eyes never leave mine as he pleads with me.

  He grabs me and cradles my body in his arms. He must think I hate him because I cannot stop crying. Finally, the torrent of tears stops falling and I can wipe my face dry. I sit there sniffing as Paul silently holds me to his chest. Finally, I trust myself to speak.

  “You don’t need to be sorry, Paul. I’m sorry. It’s great. I’m really happy for you.”

  “But I am sorry,” he mumbles, his chin resting on the top of my head.

  I shake my head slowly, back and forth repeatedly. Paul takes my hand.

  “Are you afraid?” he whispers as I fight to keep my eyes open. I concentrate on the small crack in the wall facing me as I search for an answer.

  “Of what? Dying?” I ask in a tone that aims to be nonchalant or joking, but misses. I sound anxious and scared. Of course, Paul picks up on what I am feeling right away, and his grip on me tightens.

  “Yes,” I say hesitantly, giving up on the act and deciding to be completely honest. It is the least I can do. “What do you think it’s like? I mean for us. Oh – I mean for me. I’m sorry.” I want to slap myself. Instead I wait patiently for his answer, giving him time to think it through.

  “I think it will be painful, but they won’t be afraid of giving us too many painkillers – so maybe they can erase all of that and it will be peaceful. Like falling asleep, maybe.”

  I nod. “Thanks.”

  He knows I am referring to his honesty. I just cannot spell it out right now. But I need to make him see that it is okay. So I add, “You mean me. It will be painful and slow for me.”

  His body shakes as he holds me. The movement finally pulls me from my obsessing. I feel like I can think about my own death without feeling like I am drowning. I realise how scared I am.

  “Do you believe in God, Paul?”

  “No,” he says sadly. I’m surprised by his tone.

  “There can’t be some fabulous afterlife. It can’t be real. People are a bunch of skin and blood, and when that’s all over there’s no place to go.”

  He struggles to explain. His eyes are tight and his lips are pressed into a firm line, through which his words are barely escaping. Pain shoots through my body and I’m forced to lie down on the bed next to him.

  “But you had cancer,” I argue. “You thought you wouldn’t get a chance to live. Didn’t you think you might go to heaven after, or become something else?”

  “No. This is life and death is death – the end of life. Life wouldn’t be special if it were followed by something better. It wouldn’t be valuable.” His expressions soften as he continues. “Allie… I’m sorry, it’s what I believe. But I wish I was wrong. You deserve a wonderful life in heaven.”

  I have no reply, so I say nothing. I hope he is wrong too. Paul nudges my side with his body lying next to me.

  “Will you still visit me?” I ask in a small voice. I am afraid he will say no.

  “Of course!” he cries, distilling my insecurities immediately. My head rests on his arm.

  “Tell me a joke,” I demand teasingly.

  “Okay.” He laughs. “What do you call bugs with cancer?” He waits a second for me to think before ploughing on with, “MalignANT and BEEnign.” Paul grins, obviously immensely proud of himself.

  I scoff. “Come on! You can do better than that!”

  “Fine, fine. What do you call a doctor who is always on the telephone?”

  “Doctor Sutten?” I ask cheekily.

  “An ON-CALLogist!”

  “Ha! Okay, not bad… any more?” I tease, prodding his stomach.

  “Three buddies were talking about death and dying. One asked, ‘When you’re in your casket and friends and family are mourning you, what would you like to hear them say about you?’ The first guy says, ‘I would like to hear them say that I was the greatest doctor of my time and a great family man.’ The second man says, ‘I would like to hear that I was a wonderful husband
and school teacher who made a huge difference in our children of tomorrow.’ The last guy says, ‘I would like to hear them say ‘Look, he’s moving!’”

  Paul yells out last part and I am so shocked that I start to giggle, quietly at first, and then as Paul starts to laugh, much louder. He is probably laughing at me, but I start to laugh louder and harder anyway. The laughter rocks my body in waves and it takes at least ten minutes to calm me down. It was not even that funny. I really do need to get out more, and talk to more people – and possibly find some better jokes.

  “You okay?” Paul asks.

  “Yeah. Just hurting.”

  He slides out of the bed and sits on the chair next to it. Then he pulls the sheets and blanket over me. I relax my body into the mattress. The pain in my side lessens without Paul’s shoulder and elbow jutting into my side. I close my eyes.

  “Thanks.” I laugh. “And I’m not even the one admitted to the hospital.”

  Paul chuckles. “You can crawl into my bed anytime, Allie.” He winks.

  I poke my tongue out. The door creaks open. I open my eyes as a nurse pops her head around the corner. It is Rachel, one of my favourites. We have a similar soft spot for terribly clichéd romance novels.

  “Look who was wandering the halls looking for you, Allie! I wish I had two attractive young men vying for my attention!” She winks at me. I think that she’s joking at first – that Josh or Dad are about to walk in. Paul’s grin disappears almost instantaneously.

  Jayden.

  I feel sick, my grin fading from my face. “Jayden…” I whisper. I worry that it will not carry across the room, that he will not hear me at all. But he does. He just stares. We are frozen on opposite sides of the room with Paul watching us both, his eyes darting between us.

  Jayden scans my face, seeing my pale skin and fragile body within the hospital bed. This time, there will be no misunderstanding. The lie shatters between us. Then his eyes drop to Paul’s hand next to mine. A look of pure betrayal flits across his eyes. It tears me apart.

  I need to explain. I need to make this right. “Jayden, please–”

  Jayden pivots on his heel and strides from the room. The door hits the frame before I process the sudden movement.

  “JAYDEN!” I yell, ripping the sheets from my body and pulling myself out of bed with a desperate strength I did not know I possessed. “JAYDEN!” I yell again, stumbling as I fall from the bed in a desperate attempt to avoid Paul’s grasp.

  On shaking legs, I try to run from the room. Paul cuts me off, grabbing my waist before I reach the door. Pain stabs through my heart. I picture Jayden’s face as he runs from the room. My skin is hot and uncomfortable. My nerves beneath my forehead throb. My spine juts through my body, cutting at my muscles, arteries, and veins. I drag air into my lungs with deep, jagged breaths.

  “NO! LET ME GO!!” Tears stream uncontrollably down my face and I fight Paul with everything I have. Two nurses come in and they try to restrain me too. “I need to go after him. Please let me go. I need to explain. I can’t have him hate me. Please, please…” I beg in a mumble.

  It is at that moment that my body gives way under the pressure and I collapse, hitting my head on the edge of the bed as I fall. Three pairs of arms are there to catch me as my world goes black.

  Chapter 5

  “Hey, honey,” Mum says in a soft voice. Her fingers stroke my face. My eyes flutter open and I turn my head to see my mum sitting in the chair beside my bed. I am in a different room than before—a mirror image hospital room from the one Paul was in. Dad and Josh are not there.

  “Take it slow sweetie…” Mum orders in a kind voice when she sees me looking around the room.

  And then I remember.

  Jayden!

  I gasp and struggle to sit up. The sudden movement causes Mum to alarm and push the button that summons the nurses. She pushes me back into the bed as I fight to get out and go find Jayden. I have to explain. He is going to be so angry at me.

  “Shush, shush. Calm down, Allie. You’ll have time later.”

  “What happened?” I ask. My voice is raspy when I try to speak, whether it’s a result of my unconsciousness or crying earlier, I don’t know. “How long have I been unconscious?”

  “You don’t remember?” She frowns. “You collapsed and hit your head this afternoon. You were unconscious for less than a minute, but the doctors have been doing tests and you’ve been sleeping a lot.”

  She smiles, then continues, “Don’t ever do that to us again, okay? We were so scared, Allie! We thought you may have had to go in for brain surgery and you may not have been able to survive it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, or myself.”

  I blink rapidly in a desperate attempt not to cry. I cannot seem to stop myself. I never used to cry so often, unless it was a sad movie or book. I thought having cancer would make me tougher and braver, so that I would not be upset or angered so easily. But I cry when I am having a bad day, or when I get bad news, or when the guy I like discovers I have been lying to him the whole time we were friends.

  “I know, sweetheart, I know.” She strokes my hair again, brushing it away from the dampness around my eyes. Her touch is limp and uncertain, as if she’s afraid to touch my porcelain skin.

  “Did Jayden leave? Have you seen him?” I ask, my voice shaking as I brace myself for the answer.

  “No, honey. He’ll come to his senses though. He’d be silly to let a girl as special as you slip between his fingers.” She smiles at me, the edges of her lips lifting slightly so that I know that it is genuine.

  She struggles, always expecting the worst; whilst never being ready when the cancer hits hard and strong. But in this moment, she is my protective, loving, perfect mother again – the one that will keep away anything that may want to harm me. Like when I was four and I was scared of the large dog next door, or when I was six and I was afraid of falling out of bed. But, of course, she cannot fix cancer.

  “How are you feeling now?”

  I stretch out my limbs within the bed and lift my head slightly, pain exploding in my temples. I wince. “My head hurts a bit.”

  “Okay.” She pauses, searching my face. Her hand pulls away. “You father and Josh are downstairs in the cafeteria. I’m going to go get them, okay? Dr. Marsden wants to speak to you, to us all. But, Paul is waiting for me to let him come in and check that you’re alright. That okay?”

  “Yeah.” I smile. She gracefully lifts herself from the low chair and glides from the room.

  Paul. I wonder if he is angry with me. I mean, when I saw him last I was screaming for him to let me go and attempting to hurt him. He has every right to hate me too. My heart starts to beat erratically again and I have almost worked myself into hysterics when the door pushes open and Paul walks in. His eyes meet mine and he smiles. My fear melts away, as if it were never truly there to begin with.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks, making his way across the room.

  “Good.” I search his face for any traces of animosity, but find none.

  “Good.” He smirks. “Then move over.” He perches on the side of the bed, sitting at my side.

  “So,” he starts. “Jayden knows, huh? Now what?”

  “I don’t know,” I confess quietly. “I’m so sorry about how I reacted. I should never have turned on you and got so worked up. I’m sorry.” I try and put as much emotion behind the words as I can. I feel like I am completely lost inside myself. I have no idea why I keep reacting so uncontrollably.

  He grabs my hand. “You don’t need him, Allie. That friendship was a lie, but this one isn’t. You’re going to be fine.” It sounds like a promise. I kind of hope it is. While I don’t believe Mum can protect me from the cancer anymore, I sort of believe Paul can. I always feel better with him around.

  “Do you think we’ll
be able to patch it up?”

  I count on Paul to give me an honest answer. Should I hope? Not that things will go back to how they were before, because even I can realise that that it will not happen. But maybe – just maybe – it can be even better. Maybe Jayden will accept everything that I have hidden from him and we can be closer than before.

  “I don’t know, Allie. I don’t know him. He might be able to handle it – he has a sister with cancer after all, why not a friend too? But it may be too much to ask; too painful, too uncertain, too close to home… You can try.”