Page 87

He shakes his head. “No. You’re lying. You would’ve told me. That’s not the kind of thing people keep a secret.” His pupils dilate like they’re swallowing the entire world.

I lower my head. “I haven’t even told Annie.”

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, and his eyes glaze over. “It’s not true. You don’t look sick.”

That’s the whole point. I try so hard not to look sick. I push through the pain, the nausea, the fatigue. “I am. I’m going to die.”

He backs up, looking at me like I just stabbed him. “No.”

“I have stage four Leukemia.” I reach for him, trying to offer some sort of comfort. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” He flinches away. “It’s not true.”

“It is. I had it three years ago and it came back, but this time it’s worse.”

He shakes his head then turns to leave, but only makes it one step before he pivots, facing me again. “You don’t get to die!”

My heart races, and I dig my heels into the ground. How dare he say that, making it sound like I have a say in any of this? “I don’t get to choose!”

There’s a moment where we stare at each other, nothing but the silence screaming between us as I wait for him to dare challenge me again, for him to act like I can magically take back my diagnosis.

My chest burns as my boiling blood surges through my body.

His wet eyes roam over me, but I can’t read his thoughts. I can’t tell if he believes me or not.

I wait for him to say something else. To ask me questions, but all he does is slowly back away and leave the room without saying another word.

As soon as he’s out of the door, my face crumbles and I sit, burying my head in my arms. I never meant for this to get so out of hand. Annie is never going to forgive me.

And now, my secret is out.

Annie is gone. She left school, and she isn’t answering my messages or calls. I can’t focus during my next class. I haven’t seen Daniel either. My thoughts are torn between the two of them.

Right before my last class, I get ahold of Mama who lets me know Annie came home early from school with a “headache,” and she’ll be picking me up instead.

I wish the day was over already because I know this is onlythe beginning. I still have to face Annie. There’s no getting around it, and I’m not ready.

Mama’s car is in line out front, and I climb into it. The first thing she does is reach over and check the temperature on my forehead.

“Hello to you too,” I say.

She pulls her hand back. “Sorry. You look like you don’t feel well. I’m worried you and Annie are getting sick.”

I shrug. “I’m okay.”

“Annie went straight to bed when she got home,” she says, waiting for her turn to leave the parking lot. “I tried to bring her something to eat, but the door was locked. You girls know I hate it when you lock the door.”

I rest my head back and close my eyes. “I’ll talk to her.” I’ll figure out how to make this all better. That’s what I do, right? I fix things. I don’t make them worse.

“Did something happen at school? Did she find out—”

“No. She doesn’t know yet.” I don’t want to tell Mama what happened. It would only make her worry, and that wouldn’t help the situation. “School was fine.” I need to switch the conversation, steer it in another direction far away from me and Annie. “Have you called the hospital?”

She quiets down right away. “I haven’t had time.”

“You’ve had plenty of time.”

“I’ve been busy.”