Love Always, Kate (Love Always - D.Nichole King.pdf

8/20/2019 Love Always, Kate (Love Always - D.Nichole King.pdf

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Love Always, Kate

d. Nichole King


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Love Always, Kate

Copyright © 2014 by d. Nichole King. Allights reserved.

First Print Edition: April 2014

Limitless Publishing, LLC

Kailua, HI 96734

www.limitlesspublishing.com

Formatting: Limitless Publishing

SBN-13: 978-1497385436

SBN-10: 1497385431

http://www.limitlesspublishing.com/


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o part of this book may be reproduced

scanned, or distributed in any printed o

electronic form without permissionPlease do not participate in or encourag

piracy of copyrighted materials i

violation of the author’s rights. Than

ou for respecting the hard work of thi

author.

This is a work of fiction. Namescharacters, places, and incidents eithe

are the product of the author’

magination or are used fictitiously, an

any resemblance to locales, eventsbusiness establishments, or actua

persons—living or dead—is entirel

coincidental.


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Dedication

For all those who’ve been touched by

cancer.

Your strength is an inspiration.


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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11


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Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18


Chapter 21


Chapter 24


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Chapter 25

Chapter 26


Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32


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Chapter 1

The expression on Dr. Lowell’s fac

said it all.I sat back against the chair in hi

office, nervously playing with a lock o

my thick auburn hair. Stretching it unde


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my nose, I inhaled the coconut scent o

my favorite shampoo. Already, I misse

he sweet aroma.

“Your lab work came back, Kate.Dr. Jackson Lowell’s eyes fixed on m

hen shifted to my parents. He paused

“The white blood cell count is twenty

wo thousand.”

I didn’t have to glance over to know

what my parents were doing. M

mother’s eyes squeezed shut, and mfather’s hand rubbed her back. The sof

breaths escaping my mother filled m

ears.

I stared blankly at my feet. Whaseemed like hours passed before anyon

spoke.

“What options do we have this time?


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Dad asked, his voice cracking.

I lifted my eyes to Dr. Lowell. Hi

gaze drifted to his desk. He removed hi

glasses and laid them on top of my file.“Another round of chemotherapy.

Turning his attention to me, he continued

“And we’ll need to put you back on th

bone marrow transplant list.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say

The lump in my throat made it hard t

breathe. I’d heard this spiel twicbefore, but it didn’t get any easier

Sitting up higher in my seat, I put on m

brave face.

“When do I start treatment?” I askeducking my hair behind my ears. M

focus stayed on Dr. Lowell. If I so muc

as glanced over at my parents, I’d brea


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down. And I couldn’t do that.

“Monday.”

~*~

Leukemia had forced its way back i

my life, and just like the last times, needed my coping mechanism from th

store—my new best friend since I didn

actually have one. As soon as I left th

hospital, I drove into the parking lot oTarget.

I walked to the stationery aisle an

saw it immediately. It didn’t have mname printed on it like my first one, an

t didn’t have the intricate cover of m

second. This one was perfect: blac

with a red rose on the front. Black fo


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he cancer and the red rose for m

defeating it.

When I got home, I collapsed on m

bed and flipped it open.

October 29

Dear Diary,

One year. That’s it. One measly yea

of remission and now it’s back. I don

know if my body can handle anothe

round of chemo. Not only that, but canmentally withstand the emotiona

urmoil that goes with it … again?

It’s not just about me, though. Seve

ears of on-again, off-again chemreatments has taken its toll on my

arents, too. They’ve sacrificed s

much for me; how can I ask for more?


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know it’s stupid, but I wonder wha

heir life would have been like if they’

had a whole daughter instead of

broken one. They love me. I hate tdisappoint them after all they’ve done.

My red hair has finally grown bac

and hangs past my shoulders. I don

want to wake up every morning t

chunks of it on my pillow. Already

miss the feeling of my fingers runnin

hrough the tresses. What good is cleahair when it’s clogging the drain in th

shower? Soon it will be gone. Every

ast. Strand.

I’m seventeen; I’ve surviveeukemia since I was eleven. But I don

know long I can keep fighting. I’m

rying to be brave. I don’t want to die


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’ve never even been kissed.

I closed my eyes and fought th

oncoming tears. Feeling sorry for myselwasn’t an option. Yeah, I had cancer—

nothing I could do about it beside

accept the fact. But that nagging voice i

he back of my head kept pushing.

I felt fine. Maybe there was a mix-up

at the lab.

Could the numbers be wrong?Why me? Why again?

How could I feel so good, but hav

cancer ravaging my body?

Sighing, I rolled onto my back anstared at the ceiling. Yep, still white.

swiped the tears from my cheeks. I’d jus

started to have a life. And now, I wa


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back to being an outcast. Life sucked.

Instead of wallowing, I attempte

some meaningless tasks to keep my min

occupied. I got up and fluffed mpillows on the window seat. When

finished with that, I smoothed out m

sheer curtains and picked some fuzz of

he floor in the corner. It didn’t help.

During dinner, I noticed my mom’

puffy eyes. I hated the stress my diseas

caused. She tried so hard to be strong—o be positive. But those eyes gave he

away. Fighting was my job, survivin

was hers. Dad didn’t throw any chairs,

good sign that he was taking this lapsbetter than the last one. He sat quiet an

reserved.

No one ate much. Our appetites, lik


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our vacation fund, had disappeared wit

he test results.

The weekend moved slower than

funeral caravan—sorry, bad jokeSlipped into a daze, we all seemed to b

dealing with the news by avoiding it

which was fine by me. Dad went t

work in downtown Des Moines. Mo

read her Better Homes and Garden

agazine and worked outside in th

flowerbeds. I penned a few pages in mdiary before deciding to veg-out in th

kitchen. I’d be puking my guts out soo

enough, so I figured I might as wel

enjoy something sweet and totallunhealthy. I mixed up a batch of cooki

dough and ate it by myself.

Making friends required being aroun


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eople —not hospitals. I’d missed s

much school because of treatments that

enrolled in summer school to try an

keep up. It worked, but only to get mnto tenth grade—one year behind. Prett

much all the kids at school knew I ha

eukemia. They felt sorry for me, so the

didn’t say anything. I don’t think the

knew what to say. I was “the girl wit

cancer who used to be bald.”

understood.“Hi, Kate,” Leslie said as I walke

nto the tiny hospital room Monda

afternoon. I was on a first-name basi

with all the nurses and staff members ohe floor. “I really hoped I’d never se

ou in here again.”

“Me, too.” I sat down on the reclinin


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bed.

My mother had allowed me to com

by myself. Having her there wouldn

make things any easier, and I was olenough now to go to my ow

appointments. No need for her to take th

hours out of her week.

I squeezed my eyes closed as Lesli

rubbed alcohol on my hand befor

nserting the IV. Watching made m

stomach crawl. Feeling the needle go ifelt bad enough, seeing it just reminde

me how real it all was. The central line

my first of many visual reminders

would soon be attached to my chest.“All done,” Leslie announced. “Dr

Lowell will be here in a few minutes

’m sure you don’t, but I have to ask—d


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ou have any questions?”

I had no questions. In fact, I coul

probably write a textbook of procedure

by now.I shook my head.

Leslie sat down on the bed next to m

and ran her fingers through my hair

“Your hair is beautiful, Katie. I reall

ike this cut on you.”

My hair fell in layers, framing m

full, round face. “Thank you.” Last timewhen my hair started falling out, Lesli

sat with me, holding my hand as I cried

knew it was just hair, but it was my

hair. Soon, I’d look like a little bald olman. Wigs itched. I had one that matche

my own hair color, but I hated wearin

t. People stared when I went out i


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public because they felt sorry for me

And that was annoying. It wasn’t th

stares or the whispers, or even th

silence. I didn’t want people to feesorry for me. I was a warrior. I’d beate

cancer twice, and I could do it again—a

east, that’s what I told myself.

Dr. Lowell walked in and gave us

slight grin. He held my chart in hi

hands, but he didn’t look at it. H

probably had it memorized. Anothenurse, one I didn’t know, stood next t

him. She was young and pretty with dar

brown hair and a reassuring smile.

“Hey, Kate,” he said, flipping on thoverhead lights. “This is Tammy. I’

sure you two will get to know on

another soon enough.”


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“Hi.” I nodded at her.

“So, are you ready?” Dr. Lowel

asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.Who was ever ready to be sliced ope

and have tubes put inside their veins?

Leslie patted my shoulder. “You’r

my hero,” she whispered.

I slipped my right arm out of my br

strap and tank-top sleeve. The procedur

happened while I was conscious, but really wished they’d knock me ou

Because of the local anesthetic, I didn

feel pain. I felt the tugging, though. Oh

and I could hear the little tools and thclanking on the metal tray. Those sound

alone were enough to make me nauseous

Leslie smoothed the skin on the righ


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side of my chest with an alcohol wipe

The scent of rubbing alcohol woul

forever be burned in my nostrils, lik

someone’s initials etched on a silveflask—which I was pretty sure wasn

used for rubbing alcohol.

“You’re going to feel some stinging,

Dr. Lowell said.

Stinging? I didn’t think stabbin

someone with large needles multipl

imes in the chest qualified as “stinging.I took a deep breath.

Leslie held my hand, and I squeeze

t harder each time the local anestheti

pricked me. Tears formed behind mids, but I fought them back. I could b

strong. This was nothing.

When Dr. Lowell finished, the be


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started moving. My head slowly san

down as my feet began to rise. Next t

me, Leslie never let go of my hand. He

soft expression gave me strength. balled my other hand into a fist as har

as I could, then slowly let my fingers fa

out. I concentrated on breathing steadily

My eyes stayed closed.

Dr. Lowell started working. I knew

exactly what he was doing. First he’

nsert the needle into a vein in my chestThen, with Tammy’s help, he’d put

guide wire into the vein. Next, he’d cu

one small slit in my chest and another i

my neck. That part I didn’t mind. I fenothing when they cut me. It was the nex

part I dreaded. Leslie knew that, being i

Tammy’s position last time, so sh


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grabbed the small white garbage can an

held it up to my mouth—just in case.

Dr. Lowell slid the central line in th

ower cut on my chest and came out ahe slit in my neck. I felt the pressure i

caused. My stomach started to churn, an

my mouth exploded with saliva. I trie

o hold back. Really, I did. But I couldn

help it.

“Go ahead, Kate,” Dr. Lowel

assured me.I puked in the basket. Thankfully, th

nurses on the third floor of Blan

Children’s Hospital were used to peopl

hrowing up. Leslie wiped my moutwith a wet paper towel she’d grabbe

before she sat down. She swiped m

hair back and sighed. I nodded to her.


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The rest of the procedure happene

quickly. I didn’t open my eyes until th

stitches around the new cuts had bee

put in place. Already, the central line felweird, but I knew it would become jus

another appendage once I got used to it.

“All done,” Dr. Lowell said as h

straightened out the bed. “Can you s

up?”

Leslie, still holding my hand, helpe

me up. I felt dizzy and light-headed. Throom began to spin. I shook my head

and Leslie guided me back down

Feeling the burn rise in my throat,

squeezed Leslie’s hand twice—oucode. It was the price you paid fo

having the hospital nurses as your bes

friends. As soon as I rolled to the side


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Leslie had the wastepaper basket ready

The worst part wasn’t the upchuck

actually; it was the lingering bil

aftertaste.I released my grip of Leslie’s han

and swung both of my arms over m

eyes. Inhaling deeply, I let the air out i

a small stream. I just needed a minute.

The first time, Dr. Lowell ha

showed me a video of the procedure

and I panicked. I’d almost run from hioffice screaming. And I would have …

f I hadn’t passed out first. When I cam

o, the central line had already bee

placed.The second time, I cried and threw u

during the entire procedure. All thing

considered, I aced it this time.


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I reached down and touched my new

appendage involuntarily. I knew what

felt like, but my hand went to it anyway

Feeling it there, protruding from mchest like a lamp cord, made everythin

more real. Until now, it hadn’t been har

o convince myself that the last few day

were just a dream. In a dream, you ca

pinch yourself and wake up. Now that

had needles and wires pushed throug

me, I couldn’t pretend anymore. Thiwas real.

“Are you ready to head down to X

ray?” Dr. Lowell asked.

I sighed and let Leslie help me upDr. Lowell had a wheelchair ready.

hated being rolled all over the hospita

but honestly, I was in no condition to b


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walking. I sat down like a good patien

and allowed Leslie to wheel me down t

he second floor where the technician

would X-ray my new decoration, makinsure of its correct position. I had n

doubt of its perfect placement, though

Dr. Lowell was one of the best pediatri

oncologists in the nation. That’s wh

we’d moved here.

After confirming the line’s faultles

position, Leslie taped it down. Shwheeled me into another small roo

with a couple of reclining chairs, a bed

and a sixty inch TV hanging on the wal

moved myself to one of the leatherecliners and got comfortable. My blac

diary lay in my lap, ready for my nex

entry. Leslie attached the chemo drip t


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my newly placed central line.

“Apple juice or orange juice?”

“Orange.”

“You need to drink it all, Kate,Leslie warned. “I know you. No one els

s here today for you to give it to, and

hate cleaning out wastebaskets fille

with juice.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’ll drink it.”

“And I’m bringing you som

crackers, too.” She walked out the doobefore I could argue.

Alone, I opened my diary and rea

he last entry. I needed to write abou

how I felt, but right now, I just felt num—and a little hungry. Even though

didn’t want to admit it, I was thankful t

Leslie for offering crackers. I hate


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nconveniencing her.

I toyed with my pen, bumping it o

he paper and then sticking the end in m

mouth. I didn’t know what to write. Mmind was blank. No, I didn’t want to b

here. Yes, this really sucked. That’s all

had. Maybe I could blame it on m

empty stomach. I felt detached—anothe

reason to side against the dream—like

ghost watching a complete stranger

There was no connection. That waprobably what they meant by an “out-of

body” experience.

The click of the door brought me bac

from numbness-world. Maybe thcrackers and orange juice would hel

stir some real emotion to write down.

“Thanks, Leslie,” I said, looking up.


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My heart had never technicall

stopped before, that I knew of (and I’

pretty sure I’d know that ), but at th

sight of him, I wondered if it just had. Iwas like one of those movies where th

woman dies, and the super-hot gu

started performing CPR. Then, her hear

suddenly began to beat, her eyes flew

open, and the first thing she saw was th

man of her dreams giving her mouth t

mouth. Unfortunately, the gorgeous dirtyblond with sapphire eyes standing in th

doorway wasn’t kissing me. The rest o

t was accurate, though.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know anyone wan here.” He smiled. “Hi. I’m Damian.”


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Chapter 2

November 1 Dear Diary,

Damian, Dr. Lowell’s son, i

volunteering at the hospita


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pparently, he got lost and ended up i

he chemo room with me. I didn’t mind

t. All. Granted, his sandy-blond hai

s spiked with too much gel, but hooked hot. Way hot. Even in hi

oversized sky blue scrubs.

He stayed in the chemo room lon

enough to ask my name and where th

storage room was. His eyes kep

darting to the chemo drip hanging from

he IV pole beside me. I don’t knowmaybe since he’s the son of a

oncologist, I expected more. He seeme

uncomfortable, like he didn’t want to b

here. I guess I can’t blame him fohat.

I wonder how often he’s there. If I’l

et to see him again. Yeah, I know, it’


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stupid, but I can’t seem to help myself.

Is it too much to hope that maybe

ust maybe, he could look past th

cancer and see me?

~*~

On Thursday, I almost skipped int

he hospital. That was a first. As

walked down the hall to the dreade

chemo room, I kept glancing aroundhoping to catch some glimpse of spike

blond hair. I saw nothing. No sign o

over-sized sky-blue scrubs, either. noticed that the spring in my ste

disappeared, and I entered the chem

room, ready to be hooked up like a hose

Leslie grinned at me when I walke


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n. “How are you today, Kate?”

“Eh,” I answered as I sat down in th

blue chair. “Alone again?”

Leslie nodded. “For now.”“That’s good, though, right?” I aske

as Leslie snapped the tube to the lin

mbedded in my chest.

“Yeah. It’s good. Lots of kids i

remission.”

I debated asking Leslie abou

Damian. Would she even know? I didnwant to seem like I was overtl

nterested, but Leslie had been there fo

me for years. Holding my hair back as

puked my guts out had to count fosomething, right?

“Do you know anything about Dr

Lowell’s son, Damian?” I asked, no


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meeting her eye, and not watching he

hook the tubes together either.

“You don’t want to get mixed up wit

Damian.”“Why not? What’s wrong with him?”

Leslie sat down in the empty recline

beside me. “Damian is here so his fathe

can keep an eye on him. Dr. Lowell’

wife and oldest son, Liam, died in a ca

accident two years ago. Damian’s bee

unraveling ever since.”The wedding photo of my doctor an

his wife that sat on his desk flashe

hrough my mind. “Oh, I didn’t know...”

A wave of pity washed over meHow horrible it would be to lose you

wife in such a tragic, unexpected way

And even worse to have to bury your so


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at the same time. I had appointment

with Dr. Lowell during that time. Hi

pain never showed. Dr. Lowell was

pediatric oncologist, though—his jocentered around dying kids and trying t

save them. It was horribly ironic that h

could save others’ kids, but not his own

How devastating.

And Damian? He had to be my age

Fifteen back when it happened, and t

have suffered so much loss. My hearached for him. Of course he would b

unraveling. Who wouldn’t?

“Um, maybe, if he’s still hurting, the

—”“Katie,” Leslie interrupted, “it’

more than that. He’s…well, he wa

kicked out of Dowling High School, an


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now he’s been expelled from Lincoln

t’s only gotten worse. He’s bee

arrested twice this year.”

Arrested? Damian’s a criminal?“What did he do?”

“I’m not sure what he did to ge

booted out of Dowling, but his father ha

o leave here to bail him out of jail fo

stealing a car two months ago. Las

week, Damian got picked up for publi

ntoxication and destruction of privatproperty—here at the hospital, no less.”

“The window down the hall?”

asked, remembering workers there th

day Dr. Lowell had told me my latesnumbers.

Leslie sighed. “Courtesy of Damia

Lowell.”


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I nodded, taking it in. He didn’t loo

ike a troublemaker. I thought about hi

smile and the way the deep dimples o

his cheeks gave him an innocent lookmagining him in a jail cell wearing a

ugly orange jumpsuit entered my mind. I

didn’t fit. My image of a bad bo

ncluded black leather jackets

motorcycles, tattoos up and down hi

arms, more earrings than me, and

cigarette poking out his mouth. But whadid I know? I’d spent most of my life i

a hospital on drugs. And because of tha

was invisible at school. I was th

person to avoid.Leslie interrupted my thoughts

“Orange or apple?”

It took me a second to realize that sh


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spoke. “Uh, apple,” I said withou

ooking up. After the door clicked shu

behind her, I sunk into my seat. I tucke

my legs underneath me and pulled out mdiary, staring at it.

When Leslie came back in with m

plastic cup of juice, I thanked her, stil

ost in thought. If Damian was hurting

why did that mean I had to stay awa

from him? Maybe he needed a friend

someone to relate to.Granted, I didn’t know what it wa

ike to lose a parent or sibling, but

knew about pain—and how in one singl

moment, your entire life could be flippeupside down. And I understood abou

being an outcast. How everyone felt s

sorry for you, and the only way the


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knew how to respond was to ignore yo

or give you sad looks and sympatheti

smiles.

I watched the door, hoping he’d geost again. But the only person wh

walked through was Leslie at the end o

my two-hour treatment.

I went to bed that night thinking abou

Damian and feeling guilty for ever bein

sorry for myself. He had lost so muc

more than I. At least I still had my wholfamily for support. Damian only had hi

dad left, and maybe that wasn’t enoug

for him.

The sickening effects of chempunched me in the gut over the weekend

Energy drained from me like wate

down a sink. I was tired and weak


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barely wanting to get out of bed. M

stomach began to turn early Saturda

morning and didn’t stop until Sunda

night. Mom helped me to the bathrooand kept the small wastebasket next t

my bed empty for when I couldn’t mak

t to the toilet.

She also brought me a stack of book

from the library, but they remaine

untouched on my nightstand. A few time

reached for my diary. I jotted dowsome notes about not feeling well an

ried to stay strong, especially in front o

my mom.

Damian crossed my mind a fewimes. When I pictured him in my head

he silently reminded me of how blesse

was. I barely knew him, yet tha


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weekend he gave me strength. Maybe

somehow, I could return the favor. Eve

hough Leslie said not to get involve

with him, that didn’t mean I couldn’t talo him if I happened to run into him. It’

not like he’d ask me out on a date.

What does ‘involved’ even mean?

On Monday I felt decent enough fo

half a day of school before my nex

reatment. I didn’t see Damian that da

or on Thursday. Finally I was resolveo speak with him, and now I hadn’t see

him. I wandered the corridor with my I

pole traveling around with me like a

unwanted companion.I had stopped at the nurses’ station t

alk with Leslie. Part of me wanted t

come out and ask about Damian, bu


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maybe that wasn’t such a good idea

Like Leslie had said, the only reaso

Damian volunteered was so that Dr

Lowell could keep an eye on him.“How are you feeling, Kate?” Dr

Lowell asked on his way to mak

rounds.

“The weekend wasn’t good, but I’

feeling better today.”

He studied me over the rim of hi

glasses. “Well, don’t forget I have yoon a more potent dose than two year

ago, so it’s very important you take

easy.”

Yeah, I thought. It didn’t get aneasier than lying in bed, throwing up al

weekend. I didn’t want to strain mysel

with over-activity or anything.


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A small snicker escaped me. “Okay,

will.”

Dr. Lowell made a humming noise i

his throat. “I mean it, Kate. Your immunsystem won’t be able to handle muc

more than a very basic cold.”

“I know,” I insisted. “I’m taking

easy.”

“All right.” Dr. Lowell sighed, an

hen asked Leslie about someone’s tes

results.Leslie followed me back to th

chemo room where she unhooked me

forced me to drink another glass of juice

and reminded me of what Dr. Lowelhad said earlier. I rolled my eyes.

I never found Damian. Maybe h

avoided the cancer floor. Or his father.


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Disappointed, I walked out to my car

Surely Dr. Lowell hadn’t expelled hi

from the hospital. That would b

counterproductive.I swept my fingers through my hair

knowing I had a couple more weeks wit

t at the most. The cold wind blew, and

caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. M

stomach started rolling. Just make it t

he car , I thought. Almost there. Even a

said it to myself, I knew I wasn’t goino make it. And what if I did? I couldn

puke in the backseat of my yellow

Volkswagen Beetle. Instinctively,

wisted my hair back. I ran toward thsmall patch of grass just a few fee

ahead of me. Luckily, I only had appl

uice in my stomach. It didn’t take lon


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o empty. When I straightened up,

ooked around, hoping no one saw.

That’s when I noticed him.

Walking toward me, stepping on hicigarette, was Damian.

I had two options: pretend I didn

see him and beeline to my car, or wa

for him to acknowledge he’d witnesse

my little episode.

Our eyes locked, and I couldn

move. Crap. Too late for option oneSince our first meeting, I had worked ou

a whole conversation in my head abou

mundane things, none of which centere

around vomit. Now, he’d seen mhrowing up in the hospital parking lot

and I had caught him smoking on

smoke-free hospital campus. Not grea


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conversation starters.

“Hey,” he said, stopping in front o

me. “You okay?”

I nodded, wishing my breath didnsmell as horrible as I thought it did

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He cocked his head to the side i

recognition, dark lashes partiall

concealing the blue behind them. “

know you.”

“I, uh, showed you the store room couple weeks ago.” As I said it,

seriously turned around and pointed t

he hospital as if he didn’t know

oomed behind us. Nope, definitely not how I ha

magined this little chat. I felt awkward

but Damian looked completely at ease


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standing casually in faded blue jeans an

his oversized hospital scrub top.

“Oh, yeah. Kate, right? You sur

ou’re all right? I can take you inside osomething.”

“No. It’s fine. Thanks.” I smiled. H

was concerned. How sweet. And h

remembered my name. Even sweeter.

“You sure? It’s kinda my job.” H

ugged on his uniform for emphasis.

“No. Really. It’s okay.” I cleared mhroat. He wasn’t walking away. “So, d

ou volunteer here every day? I haven

seen you around.”

“Every damn day,” he sighed, nooffering more.

“You don’t want to be here, do you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t lik


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hospitals.”

“Me neither,” I said too quickly

biting my lower lip. “It’s boring, smell

bad, and there’s lots of needles.”He grinned. “I eat supper here ever

night. Trust me, there are worse things i

hat building than needles. Hopefully yo

haven’t had the pleasure.”

I chuckled, and Damian starte

aughing with me. Just like that, th

ension disappeared.“You’re right. I’ve never been able t

keep hospital food down,” I said, stil

giggling.

“Maybe it would be more bearable ihad some company.” He brushed

wind-blown strand of hair out of m

face. My breath caught at his touch. I


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was surprisingly gentle.

I blushed. “Yeah. Maybe. Distrac

ou from the taste, at least.”

He curved up the corner of his mouth“You here often?”

“Every Monday and Thursday for th

next ten weeks.”

“Ouch. Well, I guess I know where t

find you on Monday.”


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Chapter 3


I woke up this morning to a larg

clump of hair on my pillow. Eve


54/761

hough I knew it was coming, I wasn

repared. The first time my hair starte

alling out, Mom kept a little of it in

bag and put it in the FIGHTERscrapbook she’d made for me. Thi

ime, I balled it up in my hands, stare

at it for a few minutes, then threw it i

he trash. I keep telling myself, “It’

only hair. It will grow back.” Becaus

sometimes, the mini pep talk actually

works. In the shower, I took great car

washing it. I used extra conditione

and brushed through it as lightly as

could. My efforts weren’t enough. Morhair than usual ended up in the drain

When I got back in my room, I change

my mind and yanked some strands ou


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of the garbage. I placed them in

lastic bag for Mom.

It’s only hair. It will grow back.

I cried. A girl at school asked me how I wa

eeling today. I didn’t know how t

respond. No student has ever asked m

hat before. I told her I felt fine an

hanked her for asking. She nodde

olitely then walked off to her nex

class. I wish now that I would’ve askeher for her name.

I hope I feel good this weekend

om wants help getting ready fo

Thanksgiving, and I don’t want to sit ohe sidelines. Besides, my Pinterest

nspired mother has a way with helpin

me keep my mind off things.


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~*~

Curiosity got the better of me, an

Friday night I spent the evening in m

room with my laptop searching th

archives of the Des Moines RegisterSometimes it reported on fatal ca

accidents in the state. If not, it woul

surely have an obituary.

I found a small article dated twears previous on April 21. Th

egister said that a vehicle with tw

passengers, Nora Lowell and her sonLiam, had lost control during

hunderstorm and hydroplaned into th

nterstate barrier. Both passengers wer

killed on impact.


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I also found their obituaries in th

paper dated a few days later. Liam wa

eighteen when he died. A year older tha

me now. He had just been accepted inthe pre-law program at Yale. Mother an

son had a dual funeral service.

I stared at the screen. Even in blac

and white, the picture of Nora showed

striking resemblance to Damian, an

even more to Liam. The brothers looke

so much alike that they could have beewins. I traced my fingers over Liam’

picture on the screen. Were he an

Damian close, like I imagined brother

being? A lump rose in my throat, and stifled a sob as I closed my laptop.

hrew back my violet comforter and fel

asleep with my jeans still on.


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On Saturday, I felt surprisingly good

health-wise, anyway. I helped my mo

bake pumpkin pies from scratch to put i

he freezer for Thanksgiving. For sommoms, putting decorative piecrust leave

around the edges and in the middle wa

a bonus. For my mom, it was a necessit

for the perfect pie. As the three pie

baked, I helped her make a beautifu

centerpiece for the table. My mom wa

so crafty—I could barely cut a straighine. But I think I did a smash-up jo

placing the glue dots in precisely th

right spots on the homemade cornucopia

Knowing the stupidity of it, I hunonto Damian’s words of a visit o

Monday all weekend—even if it wa

ust his job. I kind of wished I’d left m


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gloves at the hospital so that I’d have a

excuse to see him sooner.

~*~

Leslie left the room for my orang

uice. I settled in for the next two hourswondering if Damian would show up

My wondering didn’t last long. Damian

wearing sky blue scrubs that brushe

nicely over thick biceps, walked iholding a plastic cup of orange juice.

Don’t stare!

“Leslie said, ‘no peach schnapps.Sorry,” he said, smirking and handing m

he cup.

I smiled, half-surprised to see him

“Thanks for trying. It’s probably bette


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for you this way. I’m not sure how wel

hat would mix with this.” I pointed t

he bag hanging from the pole.

“So, what is that stuff, anyway?Damian shot a glance up to where

pointed.

“A very potent chemotherapy drug.”

Damian sat down beside me. I coul

smell the smoke on his clothes. He trie

o cover it up with too much cologne.

gnored the slight stir in my stomach.“Does it hurt? Having cancer?” Hi

eyebrows furrowed.

“No, it doesn’t hurt. I can’t feel that

have it. I just feel the side effects. It’sort of like having a flu that doesn’t g

away.”

“How long have you had it?”


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“Dr. Lowell … I mean, your dad

diagnosed me with ALL—Acut

Lymphatic Leukemia—when I wa

eleven. We did chemo for almost simonths, and I went into remission, so m

white cell count was back to norma

Then it came back two years ago. W

did another round of chemo, and again

went into remission a year later. Now

t’s back.”

“You talk about it like you’re okawith having leukemia,” he said

confused.

I shrugged. “I’ve tried crying

screaming, throwing things, avoidinpeople. It is what it is. I didn’t choose t

have cancer, but it happened.”

He let out a puff of air as his eye


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drifted over me. “Damn, I couldn’t do it

Being here all the time, letting the nurse

poke and prod you like you’re

cadaver.”“You would if you had to.” I shifte

n my seat.

“You’ve been doing this for, what

seven years? Wouldn’t it be easier jus

o give up, live while you can, d

whatever the hell you want, and not b

held back by shit like drugs anappointments?” His voice rose as h

spoke.

I fidgeted with a tube, giving myself

second to try and figure him out.“Sometimes I think that,” I answere

calmly. “Every time I go out o

remission, getting back in gets harder


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’ve gotten sicker each time. The chem

gets stronger while I get weaker. So

eah, it would be easier to say I don

want to do this anymore.” I lookearound the room. This wasn’t th

conversation I had envisioned. Yet

somehow I didn’t mind it.

“I could go to Disney World. Se

Greece. Climb Mount Everest. Swi

with dolphins. Watch a volcano erupt

And not be sick for any of it. Enjoy thime I have left. Or be sick and then die

and not do any of those things. But I han

on to the hope that I can do it all, not b

sick, and not have cancer.”“I don’t think the statistics are o

our side.”

I opened my mouth to retort the


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closed it. Most people, when the

earned I had leukemia, grimaced an

old me they were sorry, and encourage

me. Other than with the hospital staff, I’never had a conversation like thi

before. I appreciated his bluntness.

I sighed. “I know the stats, and the

get scarier every time I have to com

back here. But I have people counting o

me. Someone fills that small percentage

Why shouldn’t it be me? Staying positivs medicine, you know.”

Damian looked solemn. He was th

son of my doctor, and I wondered how

much he knew—how much Dr. Lowelalked about his work and the surviva

rates of patients.

Damian’s gaze settled on me. “You


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file was sitting on Dad’s desk, so

flipped through it.”

My eyebrows shot up, surprised an

actually a little thrilled that he took thnitiative.

“It says you’re on the bone marrow

ransplant list.”

I cringed. During my last lapse, m

best friend was Molly, a nine-year-ol

girl who had her chemo treatments th

same days as me. When I went intremission, she wasn’t showing any sign

of improvement. Dr. Lowell put her o

he bone-marrow transplant list, a lis

with over ten-thousand names. Nsuitable donor was ever found. I went t

he hospital during her treatment times t

keep her company until one day, sh


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wasn’t there. It rained the day of he

funeral. She would have liked it—sh

oved the rain.

“Yes,” I said, pushing Molly’memory away. “It may be my onl

chance. And if I get it, my stat

ncrease.”

He scoffed. “It’s one helluva list.”

“It is. But there’s always hope.”

“Your folks aren’t a match?”

I swallowed. “No, they’re not. Thegot tested last time. Their HLA type isn

compatible.”

“So, how do you get a compatibl

HLA?” His dimples deepened when halked. It was hard to ignore.

“The best matches come fro

siblings. I don’t have any.”


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His playful grin faded. “Yeah, m

neither.”

The words hung in the air for

moment. I stared at the linoleum.Damian spoke quietly. “I admire you

You’re strong.”

I was strong because cancer i

resolute, and I didn’t want the beast t

win.

“Now you know me. How about you

What’s your story?” I asked.Damian sighed and adjusted hi

nametag. “I’m the son of Jackso

Lowell, Doctor Extraordinaire. Tha

means I have a lot of time to myself. play the guitar. Write music. I’ve beate

every Assassin’s Creed game. And

don’t live up to my father’s expectations


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Hell, I don’t know if I live up t

anyone’s expectations.”

“I’m sure your dad just wants you t

be happy.”Damian grunted. “Whose definition o

happy? His? Mine?” His eyebrows rose

“Yours?”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t happy only hav

one definition?”

“Does it? Are you happy?”

I thought about it for a few moments. had beaten my disease twice before, an

was determined to do it again. Mor

han anything, I was happy just to b

alive. “Yeah, I am.”His eyes narrowed. “Having a tub

sticking out of your chest, being hooke

up to toxic drugs, getting sick—tha


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makes you happy?”

“Oh, well, no. But…”

“Not that easy, is it?” The edge in hi

voice pricked at me. I couldn’t tell if hwas talking about me or himself.

“The outcome of—”

“You don’t know the outcome.” H

sounded angry, his eyes blazing. “Yo

only hope it will make you happy, whe

t might kill you. That’s reality.”

I pulled my lips tight. “True, but makes my parents happy to see m

fight.”

“Bullshit. They’re not happy having

daughter who has to battle cancer. And iou die, well, how can they be happ

about that?”

“If—”


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Damian cut me off. “Yeah. If. S

much is based on that word, and ther

are no fucking guarantees attached to it

What makes you happy now may be whadestroys you later. Or those you love

Then what? Sometimes, being happ

sn’t worth the risk.”

“And sometimes it is,” I said quietly.

Damian brightened again, offering

slight smile. “See what I mean? Nothin

n this shithole life is easy.”“Just because it’s not easy, doesn

mean it’s not worth it.”

“So tell me then: is it worth it?” Hi

blue eyes searched mine. “Worth all thime in this place?”

It was a question I’d asked mysel

many times. One I didn’t have an answe


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for. Sometimes it didn’t seem worth it. I

fought and lost, no one gained anything

’d have wasted the last years, months

weeks of my life on hoping. I’d be deadmy parents would be heartbroken. N

one would win. If I stopped fighting

went off the chemo and accepted m

fate, I could enjoy my last moments o

his earth. My parents could enjoy the

with me, making memories they coul

cling to long after I was gone. But if…What if I kept fighting? And won

Then we all won. The chances wer

slim, I knew that. Wasn’t it wort

holding on to, though?I stared at the wall in front of me. “

don’t know."

"I could do what makes me happ


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now and risk being miserable later.”

felt Damian’s gaze on me as he spoke

“Or I could please the good doctor an

be miserable now. Choices come witconsequences, some good, some bad. It’

risky, and it’s always, always based o

f.”

I swallowed hard and took a sip o

my juice before lifting my eyes to him

“Does your dad want you to be

doctor?”Damian scoffed. “I’m sure he would

He had his career picked out when h

was my age, med school and everything

Me, well, I’m just hoping to graduate.He tugged up the corner of his mouth

showing off his gorgeous dimples.

My stomach tightened. Not now. No


73/761

n front of Damian again.

His smirk faded. “Hey, are you okay

You’re white. I can get Leslie.”

I shook my head. There was no time. shot my hand down beside me but th

wastebasket wasn’t there. Oh no!

eaned forward and heaved. When I’

finished, I noticed Damian on the floo

n front of me, holding the basket wit

one hand, his other resting on my thigh.

His eyebrows shot up. “Feel better?”I nodded, surprised that he was there

His gaze was kind, his expression soft.

“Can I get you some water o

something?”“Yeah. Please.”

The door opened and Leslie walke

hrough. It only took her a millisecond t


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analyze the scene before she rushe

over.

“You all right, Katie?” She picked u

he full garbage can. “Do you need somwater?”

Damian appeared next to her, holdin

a Styrofoam cup. “I’ve got it.”

Leslie watched as Damian handed m

he cup. She looked sideways at him an

hen at me. Her mouth opened as if sh

was going to make a comment thedecided against it.

“We’re fine.” He took the empty cup

from me, then faced Leslie.

What? Did he just say “we” werine? As in, him and me together?

“Well,” she drawled out. “Uh, I gues

f everything is under control, I’l


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ust…”

Leslie looked at me and sighed.

nodded, hoping to reassure her. I knew

what she thought. The look in her eysaid, Be careful, Katie. Leslie took

final glance at Damian before sh

walked out.

“I’m real popular with the nurse

around here,” Damian jeered at th

closed door. “Especially that one.”

“She’s just protective. This is the lasplace she ever wants to see any of u

who’ve been here and left.”

Damian sat down beside me an

grunted. “I doubt that.”“You doubt what?” My eyebrow

furrowed. “She cares about us, Damian.

“I didn’t say she didn’t,” Damia


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snapped, his blue irises drilling int

mine.

“Then what did you mean?”

“The last place she wants to see yos in a coffin.” His words were hard an

fell to the floor. As soon as he said them

his sad gaze shifted to his feet.

Was he thinking about the last plac

he saw his mom and brother?

I didn’t say anything. We sat i

silence for a few minutes until he shiftehis eyes to my lap. “What’s that?”

“My diary.” It sounded so childis

when the words came out. “Uh, cance

diary. It’s my cancer diary.”Yeah, nice cover-up, Spaz.

“So, you write down stuff abou

cancer?” Damian asked, glancing at me.


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“Yeah. A nurse in my mom’s suppor

group suggested it when I was firs

diagnosed.”

“So, you’ve always written in onehuh?”

I wanted to brush it off like it was n

big deal. Just a dumb diary thing. Bu

honestly, it was a big deal. It helped m

more than anything else. “I know

sounds stupid, but the diary gets me.

can talk to my parents, or the nurses, bunone of them have to go through this. I

reality, I’m alone. So I write down how

feel about having cancer, about th

reatment, the side effects, about stareand whispers from kids at school. Abou

anything. It helps me cope—like three

dollar therapy between two pieces o


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cardboard.”

Damian chuckled. “Cheap therapy.”

I tilted my head to him and chuckled

“Yeah.”The door creaked open, and we bot

umped. Dr. Lowell cleared his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt, but, uh, Damian

can I see you for a few minutes? In m

office?”

I couldn’t see Damian’s face, but hi

hand curled into a fist. “Sure.”Dr. Lowell nodded at me, then th

door closed. Damian shook his head an

muttered something under his breath.

“Are we still on for dinner in thcafeteria?” he asked, standing up

“Crappy food, but hey, I’m paying.”

I laughed. “Okay.”


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“When are you done in here?”

I glanced at the clock. “Forty-fiv

minutes.”

“I’ll pick you up.”“See you then.”

Damian flashed me a dimpled gri

before he disappeared out the door.

Unable to stop thinking about him,

opened my diary and wrote about ou

conversation and how he had sat righ

here while I puked. His expressioshowed the normal reactions of concer

and worry, but there was something else

oo. Something I didn’t recognize.

wrote about the feel of his hand on mineHow I couldn’t decide if the butterflie

were because of the chemo, the fact tha

just finished throwing up, or becaus


80/761

his touch felt amazing.

I was so engrossed in writing that

barely noticed Leslie standing next t

me. When I looked up, I jumped.“Sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean to startl

ou.”

“Oh. That’s okay. I didn’t hear yo

come in,” I said, taking a deep breath.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

Odd. Leslie had never asked before

“Go ahead.”“I wanted to speak with you,” sh

started. “About Damian.” Leslie wa

older than my mother with two grow

children of her own. She’d alwayreated me as an equal, but this wa

going to be a “mom” conversation,

could tell.


81/761

“I know you said to stay away fro

him. Really, it just happened. Nothing i

going on, though. We’re just friends.”

fidgeted with the corner of my diary as fumbled over my words. “I don’t know

f we’re friends. I mean, we’re not mor

han friends.” I flushed.

Leslie’s voice was soft. “Kate

Damian is in a lot of pain.”

“I know, but I don’t think that’s

reason to stay away from him.”“No, it’s not.” Leslie placed her han

over mine. “That’s not why I said that.”

“Maybe him getting into trouble is hi

way of reaching out.”“It is,” Leslie agreed.

I was confused. Last time, Lesli

ried to scare me into having nothing t


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do with him. Now, she suddenly agree

with everything I said.

“Then what? Why did you tell me t

keep my distance?”“I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine. Like I said, there’

nothing going on.”

Leslie sighed. “Kate, I saw the wa

he looked at you. I’ve never seen hi

actually interact with a patient before

What he did for you in here, well, that’what scares me.”

I shook my head. “It was just a kin

gesture. Anyone would have done it.”

“You’re strong, and you can handlt.”

“Okay…?” I didn’t know where sh

was going with this. The expression o


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her face morphed from concerned to sad

“Oh, Kate. I’m worried about wha

ou might do to him.”

“What…what do you mean?”She glanced away, but not before

saw moisture in her eyes. Turning bac

o me, she cupped my hand in both o

hers. “Damian is still mourning hi

mother and brother’s death. It’

destroying him. He’s destroying himself

Damian isn’t as strong as you are.”Leslie fell silent. I watched as sh

pursed her lips. She squeezed my han

nside hers. “If he falls for you, an

something happens to you…” Lesliswallowed hard. That’s when I knew

what she was going to say. That’s when

understood her warnings.


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I dropped my head, closing my eye

as Leslie finished. “If you die, if yo

don’t recover … Katie, it’ll kill him.”


85/761

Chapter 4

“They might look like mashepotatoes, but I guarantee, they’re not.

hink they come from a box and ar

mixed with some sort of mashed turni


86/761

and white sand. May I suggest a bake

one, instead?” Damian picked up a foil

wrapped baked potato and plopped it o

my tray. He grabbed a dollop of butter ia paper cup. “The butter is actuall

real.” He winked at me.

I giggled. In the back of my mind

Leslie’s words repeated over and ove

again. I saw the way he looks at you

e’s never interacted with a patien

before. If he falls for you and you diet’ll kill him.

I just wanted to enjoy dinner. Okay

maybe enjoy wasn’t the right word

Tolerate dinner. Enjoy Damian. But howcould I enjoy being with him, stare int

his ocean-blue eyes and not think I coul

kill him?


87/761

No. I shrugged inwardly. Leslie wa

obviously exaggerating. Still…Would

have one more person to disappoint if

couldn’t fight hard enough?One step at a time. Just concentrat

on keeping this meal down in front o

him.

“Corn or broccoli?” Damian asked.

“Hmm.” I shifted my eyes betwee

he two. “I’ll go with corn. Is that safe?”

Damian laughed. “Well, none of itsafe.” He scooped up a heap of corn fo

my plate and dumped another on his

Like with school cafeteria food, ther

was no end to the horrible hospital foookes.

We found an empty table and sa

down. “I still think you’re risking you


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ife with that meatloaf,” he said.

“Well, I wasn’t sure if that wa

chicken or cat meat.” I nodded to th

chicken strips on Damian’s plate.“It’s hospital food, not Chinese!” H

ooked offended.

“Either way, I think we’re doomed.”

aughed.

“Cheers.” Damian held up his glas

of Mountain Dew.

Our glasses clinked as we hit theogether, then we both took a sip.

“So, tell me about life befor

cancer,” Damian said, taking a bite o

his turnip and sand potatoes.I tilted my head and eyed hi

spoonful.

He laughed. “I’m immune. Besides,


89/761

ike sand.”

“Well, during remissions, my dad an

would go to the country club and golf

ot. I don’t think I’d mind joining thLPGA. My dad says I’m pretty good,”

said, tipping my head up. “I reall

wanna make the varsity golf team a

school this spring.”

“Ugh. Country club brat, huh? Yo

probably do everything your parents say

don’t you?”I forced a smile. After all they’d don

for me, it was the least I could do. “You

dad’s a doctor; I’m sure you’ve swung

club or two in your day.”Damian grunted. “Cliché.”

I raised my eyebrows at him an

smirked. Damian licked his lips slyly


90/761

shook his head, and gave in. “Privat

golf lessons. Every summer. Since I wa

seven.”

“I knew it!” I sat up.Damian laughed. “I haven’t set foo

on a golf course in over two years.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “I never played with m

dad. It was sorta me and my brother’

hing. And now…” Damian eyes cloude

over, and his voice softened as if he jusrealized what he’d said. “Well, I don

play anymore.”

Damian’s head lowered, and he too

a bite of his corn. I averted my eyesembarrassed about bringing his brothe

o his attention.

“Maybe we can play togethe


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sometime?” I said, wondering if

would be enough of a topic change.

“I dunno. You’d probably kick m

ass.” He shifted his weight in his seatThen he cleared his throat. “God, I nee

a cigarette. Uh, I’ll be right back.” H

almost tipped over his chair as he stoo

and hurried out of the cafeteria.

I felt stupid as I watched him go

Alone, I plopped my elbow on the tabl

and picked at the food. I ate a few bitehen put the fork down.

Part of me wondered if he woul

come back. I’d hit a nerve, a memory o

Liam. “ He’s not strong like you, Kate.What a great first date. Was that wha

his was? No. I pushed the ridiculou

notion from my mind. A guy sitting nex


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hand.“It starts happening that quickly

huh?” Damian’s voice was soft.

For a few moments, he didn’t sa

anything, and I didn’t look up. All could think of was why I hadn’t tosse

he hair away. Now, not only had he see

me balding, he’d also seen m

nsecurity.

I lifted my eyes to him, nodded

untangled the hair out of my hand an

wadded it up.“I’m sorry,” he said. “Some peopl

do wigs, don’t they?”

“Yeah. I don’t. They itch,” I said

dismissing how much it really bothereme. “It’s just hair. It’ll grow back. I

always does.”

“But you still have to deal with


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falling out all the time until it’s gone

That’s just a reminder of what’

happening.”

Did he really just say that?“Side-effect of chemo.” I shrugged

hoping he hadn’t heard the crack in m

voice.

I wanted to tuck my hair behind m

ear, but I worried that another clum

would fall out. Instead, I picked up m

water and gulped it down.Damian’s phone rang—an ol

Journey song, something my dad listene

o. He grabbed it then touched th

screen. He tensed and shoved the iPhonback in his pocket.

“If you have to go…”

“No. It’s just the old man. He ca


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wait.” Damian shoved a spoonful o

food in his mouth. “So, where do you g

o school?”

“Roosevelt.” I hesitated. “You?”“I’m between schools right now. I’l

start at Valley in January.”

I wanted to ask why he’d bee

expelled. Instead I blurted, “Why di

ou steal a car?”

Damian’s eyebrows shot up faste

han a rocket. “My favorite nurse tolou, huh?”

“Sort of.”

“Bitch,” he muttered to himself. The

he grinned. “To see if I could.”Damian’s phone rang again. This tim

he jerked it out, cursed, and switched

off. “I’d better go before the asshol


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pages me over the intercom.”

“Yeah. That’d be embarrassing.”

“Thanks for eating with me tonight,

he said. “I’ll see you Thursday.”He pivoted and walked away before

had a chance to say anything. I watche

him until his sky blue scrubs were just

small speck down the corridor.

I shoved my tray aside and laid m

head on my arms, taking a deep breath.

wished that my life recorded itself like DVR. The rewind button looked rea

good right now.

If only I had chucked the hair.

If only I hadn’t run my fingers througt in the first place.

If only I could stop Leslie’s word

from repeating in my mind.


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If only I hadn’t mentioned golf.

The list went on and on. The rewin

button would have been busy.

I sighed and dug through my bagfinding my diary.

November 15

Dear Diary,

Worst non-date ever!

What did I get myself into? I have n

dea what I’m thinking! Sure, Damiaulled me in with his amazing eyes, an

well, let’s face it—he’s gorgeous! Bu

he’s carrying around more Dixie cup

han the medication cart.Oh, and he’s so not my type. Agh

Well, I guess I don’t have a type. All

know is that I never dreamed I’d have


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crush on a guy who smokes, apparently

hates his father, has been arrested, an

ord knows what else. I think I’ve los

my mind. It’s the only explanation.Unless…hmm. I never thought o

hat. Do I see him as my charity case

Someone I can fix? I don’t know. At th

same time, he held the garbage ca

while I hurled in it, for crying out loud

What teenage guy does that? I must b

crazy. I do like the fact that he’s not afrai

o challenge me. He doesn’t treat m

ike I’m going to break. Or like I hav

cancer. I feel almost normal arounhim.

He knows my hair is falling out, an

he didn’t make a big deal of it. H


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knows who I am—the cancer patient—

and still talks to me. I care about wha

he thinks and how he sees me. What

might mean to him. I wonder what he’doing now. If he’s thinking about me. I

he worries about me.

This makes no sense. I’ve never bee

more confused in my life!

~*~ Going bald in the winter was nice

han in the summer. I could usually fin

cute hats that went well with my outfitsand I was thankful that the administratio

at school made an exception for me t

wear them to class. It cut down on th

stares and sorry looks I got from m


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classmates. Generally, I took it off fo

reatments, since I didn’t feel awkwar

on the cancer ward. In fact, it might b

about the only place I felt somewhanormal.

My hair had thinned so much I wa

beginning to look like Gollum. I kept m

black hat on at the hospital becaus

Damian said he’d be there. Leslie didn

say much as she hooked the IV into th

ube sticking out from my chest. I tappemy fingers on my diary and watched th

clock. At four-thirty it crossed my min

hat maybe he forgot or something.

At four thirty-five, I had given up ohim, and at four thirty-eight, Damia

wisted the knob and let himself in.

“Nice hat. I like the little, uh, flowe


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hing.” He pointed at my head.

I laughed at his odd hand gestures

Seeing him standing in the doorwa

ifted my spirits.“Can you leave this room?” he asked

peered around him and noticed th

black bag he held behind his back.

I looked at him sideways. “Yeah. Bu

he pole has to come with us.”

“Eh. I suppose, if it must.” Damia

held out his hand to me. Reluctantly ook it, and Damian helped me to my fee

before letting go.

“Where are we going?”

Damian held the door open. “One ohe empty rooms.”

I stared at him for a few seconds

biting the inside of my cheek. He had


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quirky smile across his face, and hi

eyes danced as they stared at me.

“Oh, come on.” Damian reached ou

and grabbed my hand again, tugging mforward. An odd-looking carava

walked down the hall: Damian pullin

me and me dragging the IV pole. I wasn

hinking about where we were going o

about the bag slung over his shoulder.

ust enjoyed the feel of my hand in his

ever before had a guy who wasnrelated to me or treating me held m

hand. Damian didn’t hesitate as if I wer

contagious. He just reached out and too

t, and didn’t let go.We rushed past the nurses’ station.

felt three pairs of eyes follow us—

ncluding Leslie’s. Damian didn’t see


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o notice. We rounded the next hallwa

and swept into the second room on th

right. Damian let go of my hand to clos

he door behind us, and I wanted thwarmth of his touch back.

“What are we doing?” I asked a

Damian took my hand again.

Oh, good!

“In here.” He led me into th

bathroom and locked the door. “Sit.”

“On the toilet?” I looked down“There isn’t a seat.”

“That or the floor.” Damian put hi

bag on the counter and unzipped it.

“Are you going to tell me why you’vocked us up in the bathroom?”

He grinned, facing me. “Your hair.”

I shifted my weight. “My hair? Wha


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do you mean?”

Dinner on Monday flashed throug

my mind—me staring at the strand

woven through my fingers and Damian’sympathetic eyes as he watched me. M

growing feelings for him made me eve

more self-conscious. Now my hair wa

he reason we were locked in

bathroom together. Fantastic.

“I saw how you looked at it durin

dinner the other night. It must bannoying having to lose it little by littl

ike that.” His eyes were soft. He pulle

out a pair of scissors and an electri

razor from his bag. “I thought it may beasier if you got rid of all of it in on

shot. Then no more worries.”

I had nothing to say for a few second


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as his words sunk in. He had bee

hinking about me. He’d come up with

plan. Wow.

He took a step closer. I felt his breaton my forehead. It smelled like smok

and spearmint gum. “What do you say?

he whispered.

I peered up into his beautiful eyes.

couldn’t form words to tell him how

wonderful I thought he was. How much

appreciated him thinking about me thiway. I loved his idea.

I nodded.

Damian grinned, reached down, an

slipped my black-knit hat off my headAfter running his fingers through my hai

a few times, he wiped a tear from m

cheek.


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Tingles shot up my spine, and

shivered at the touch.

He motioned for me to sit. I move

he IV pole behind the toilet and safacing the tub. I felt Damian com

hrough the strands. He cut the hair, and

watched my auburn locks fall to th

floor. Then he picked up a chunk an

handed it to me.

“Here, do you want to keep some o

t?”I took it, purposefully touching hi

fingers. “Thanks.”

I heard the clippers come to life an

felt the metal against my head. My eyeclosed, and I listened to the buzz a

Damian shaved each individual hai

from the top of my head. After a few


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swipes, he rubbed his hand over the bar

skin. He repeated this gesture until all o

my hair laid lifeless on the floor.

I spun around and peered into thmirror. Damian was putting the clipper

back into his bag. I swept my han

across the top of my head. The reflectio

ooked normal to me.

I glanced up at Damian. He had

glob of white lotion in his hand, an

began to rub his hands together.He grinned. “I wasn’t sure if I shoul

bring lotion or aftershave.”

I laughed, thankful he chose lotion

and wondered if he’d really considereaftershave. His hands moved gracefull

over my head. I cringed from the cold a

first, but his warm hands caressing m


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head soon relaxed me, and I closed m

eyes to enjoy the sensation. He rubbe

he lotion in for a few minutes. Hi

fingers moved down behind my ears, tmy shoulders, and down my arms. Hi

ips pressed against the top of my head.

swallowed. A wave of emotions washe

hrough me. My hands were settled in m

ap and his came to rest on top of mine.

didn’t know whether to move or no

Should I flip my hands over and takhold of his?

When I opened my eyes, he wa

kneeling in front of me, gazing at me

“You look beautiful.”My eyes searched his. If it weren

for the butterflies flying around m

stomach telling me otherwise, I woul


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have wondered if he was being a jerk.

He reached up and caressed the sid

of my face. With a gentle tug on my hand

he lowered me down. I slid off thunromantic porcelain throne and sat o

my knees on the floor. Damian place

both hands on either side of my face, hi

eyes locking with mine. He leaned i

closer.

Were my lips dry? Were the

supposed to be? What if I sucked at it? hadn’t brushed my teeth since tha

morning, and…

Before I had a chance to finish m

hought, Damian’s lips were presseagainst mine. I closed my eyes, ‘caus

hat’s what happened on TV, and let m

shoulders fall. More questions ra


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hrough my mind, the old ones forgotten

Was I supposed to breathe or hold m

breath? What should I do with m

hands? Should my lips stay closed oopen? Please, oh, please don’t throw

up!

I kept my hands on my lap for

moment, but as Damian’s mouth opene

and sucked my lower lip between his

my arms wrapped around his neck o

heir own. He responded by moving hihands to my shoulders and sliding the

down my arms. His lips moved ove

mine tenderly, then he folded his arm

around my waist and hugged me againshim.

When the kiss ended, I stared at him

Small shivers still raced down my spine


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and my whole body tingled. Damia

smiled. He kissed the tip of my nose, an

his fingertips trailed over the side of m

neck. My insecurity dissipated at thexpression on his face.

“I saw the way he looks at you.”

Now I could see it, too. It was th

sparkle in his eyes. The way the corne

of his mouth curved up in an impish grin

He leaned in and kissed my neck wher

his fingers had been.“You taste good,” he whispered in m

ear.

It could have been the chemo dancin

ts way through my bloodstream becaus was suddenly light-headed. Then agai

chemo didn’t typically make me fee

good.


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Damian kissed me on the neck again

and I had never felt the little pin-prick

hat covered my body before. I ached t

have him kiss me again. I wanted him tenvelop me in his arms and draw m

nto his body and keep me there forever.

“Damian isn’t as strong as you are

f he falls for you, and you don

recover, it’ll kill him.”

I couldn’t speak for Damian. An

whether or not it was a good idea didnmatter. I knew the moment he pulled ou

he clippers and looked into my eyes tha

was in danger of falling for Damia

Lowell.


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Chapter 5


He kissed me! A real kiss. One tha

eft me breathless.


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I can’t get Damian’s touch out of my

mind. I can still feel where his finger

readed over my skin, where his lip

ressed against me. I’d give anythino have them there again. I’ve bee

ying in bed for the last three hours

staring at my ceiling and picturin

amian’s Caribbean blue eyes. I don

want to get him out of my head, but

would like to fall asleep.

It felt so good to have him want mike that. I felt…normal.

I wish I didn’t feel like this, though

We’re different in so many ways. I hat

hat I love being swept up in him. I hathow much I want to be with him. I’m

opening myself up to get hurt.

He’s not good for me, I know tha


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ut I also can’t stay away from him

aybe if I wasn’t sick, then…

On the flip side, he’s giving m

another reason to fight this as hard ascan. Is that what I want, though

Someone else to disappoint?

My parents are counting on me, too

don’t want to let them down.

~*~ This time I really did forget m

gloves at the hospital. Technically, I ha

another pair that I could wear, buretrieving my favorite ones gave me

great excuse to see Damian again.

didn’t think I could wait until Monday

anyway. His face filled my dreams, and


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woke up once in the middle of the nigh

kissing my pillow…okay, twice…

I half-ran inside and took the elevato

o the third floor, a giant smile plastereacross my face. Would he be happy t

see me? Would he kiss me again

Probably not in front of everyone

Maybe he’d walk me back to my car an

kiss me there? It didn’t matter; I jus

wanted to see him again. I hoped h

wouldn’t be too weirded out, it not beina treatment day and all.

The elevator ride to the third floo

ook forever. When the metal door

finally opened, I got out and walked the nurses’ station.

No one was there. I checked th

chemo room, hoping to find Leslie. I


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was empty, too. I walked the length o

he hall and found no one. All of th

doors to the rooms were closed; the

were usually open with the sounds oelevisions and family members waftin

nto the hallway.

I opened the door to the Commons

Two young boys were playing Mari

art on the Wii, and a little gir

receiving her chemo treatment, wa

sitting on the sofa reading a book. Shwore a pink infant headband on her bal

head.

She looked up. “Hi.”

“Where is everyone?” I asked.She shrugged. “Leslie just told me t

stay in here. She said she’d be back in

ittle while.”


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“Oh. When was that?”

“I don’t know, ten minutes ago? Dr

Lowell is in his office yelling at his son

hough, so all the nurses are probablistening in. You know how they are.”

My heart sank. “Thanks,” I murmured

I twirled around and rushed down th

corridor to Dr. Lowell’s office. As

rounded the corner, I saw Leslie

Tammy, and two other nurses attemptin

o look busy in the same spot. Leslinoticed me first and shook her head.

glanced away and stared at the cracked

open office door.

“What the hell do you care? You’rnever around, anyway.” Damian’s voic

boomed down the hall.

“I’m doing the best I can. You’re no


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making this any easier. At least I’m

rying,” Dr. Lowell yelled back, thoug

not as loudly.

“You call working sixteen hours day trying ? Bullshit, Dad.”

“I asked you to be here with me.”

“No. You want me here to fuckin

baby-sit me.”

“What else am I supposed to do

Damian? You got yourself kicked ou

school, I’ve bailed you out of jail twiceou show up here drunk, and now you’r

skipping your therapy sessions. I can

rust you.”

“I’m such a goddamn disappointmeno you, aren’t I? If only Liam were her

nstead.”

Thick silence filtered down th


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corridor.

“I didn’t say that.” Dr. Lowell’

voice was quiet.

Damian jerked the door open. All ohe nurses twirled their heads i

different directions. My eyes staye

ransfixed on Damian.

“No, Dad, you don’t have to say it

You make it perfectly clear.”

Damian spun on his heel an

slammed the office door closed. Hstarted walking down the hall—no wa

he wouldn’t see me. He paused slightly

his eyes set on mine. His expression wa

hard and unreadable.I opened my mouth to speak, but h

pushed forward, swept past me, an

swore under his breath. Leslie came u


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behind me as I watched him disappea

down the hall.

“What happened?” I asked, stil

staring at Damian’s wake.Leslie shook her head. “It’s not th

first time. Before you, Damian showe

up drunk every other day or so.”

“That’s what this was about?” I face

her.

She sighed. “It was about a lot o

hings.”“Thanks, Leslie,” I said and starte

ogging after him, I’m not sure why. I

wasn’t as if I could do anything about th

situation.The look in his eye as he’d passed m

n the hallway scared me. The voice tha

had spoken so softly to me turned crue


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and edgy as he yelled at his father. I’

never dream of speaking to my parent

hat way.

I checked the cafeteria first. Hwasn’t there. I wandered around the firs

floor, poking my head into each of th

waiting rooms. It was a large hospita

crowded with visitors and full o

patients. Damian reeked of alcohol an

probably wanted some place where h

could be alone. I knew the third floowell, but the rest of the place was like

rat maze. After an hour of searching,

gave up. He obviously didn’t want to b

found.I slipped on my hat and walked ou

nto the cold November afternoon. It ha

begun to flurry, and the wind stung m


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cheeks. I shoved my bare hands into m

coat pockets and stared down at my fee

as I walked to my car.

It was a long trek to the back of thparking lot, the only place I could find

spot. My mind wandered, thinking abou

he Damian I saw today, drunk an

screaming. I touched my lips an

remembered the warmth of his kiss. Th

guy who had taken so much care cuttin

my hair, kissing my bare head, caressinme, couldn’t be the same one I saw

oday.

“Hey.”

I jerked my head up. Damian stooeaning against my car, smoking. H

ooked different, not wearing scrubs. Hi

black Columbia coat and faded blu


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eans fit him much better than hi

hospital get-up. I swallowed as I mad

eye contact. Did he look sad or were hi

pupils that dilated?“I was looking for you,” I said. “I

here.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere nea

here.” He stared off in the direction o

he hospital and threw his cigarette o

he ground.

“Yeah, I can

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