Page 20 of Styx & Stones

@zedatwoodsbellybuttonlint: You don’t wanna remove UR tumor?

@alaskasaerosoladdiction: No, it’s not that. More like I’m worried when they remove it, they’ll remove a part of me too. I know it sounds dumb.

I swallow the lump in my throat, wishing I could say this to my mom, but she freaks and bursts into tears every time I mention not having the surgery.

@alaskasaerosoladdiction: Don’t get me wrong, as soon as I found out there was a tumor on my brain, I wanted it out of me. It’s like I thought my body had betrayed me by allowing the little dude to grow.

@zedatwoodsbellybuttonlint: Little dude?

@alaskasaerosoladdiction: That’s what I call my least-favorite tenant.

@zedatwoodsbellybuttonlint: That’s weird, but also kind of cool. And I get it. I only had surgery on my abdomen, but I was convinced I was going to wake up a different person. Of course, I was ten at the time.

@alaskasaerosoladdiction: Is that you calling me chicken?

@zedatwoodsbellybuttonlint: Never. You’re way too beautiful to be a chicken.

@alaskasaerosoladdiction: Wait. I didn’t know you had stomach cancer?

@zedatwoodsbellybuttonlint: Yep. Gotta go.

CHAPTER TWELVE

STYX

“Fuck!” Joe, my neighbor, tosses the Xbox controller on the couch beside him and rakes his hands through his hair. “You just killed us, man.”

“Sorry,” I mutter, swiping my thumb over my iPhone. “Chemo brain.”

“Bullshit. When are you gonna stop using that as an excuse?”

“When I’m no longer in chemo, I guess.” I pull up Instagram and see Alaska has a new story. I click on it, and her face comes up, covered by another cheesy filter. She still looks fucking cute though.

“Hey, Aerosol Addicts. Alaska here. So yesterday was tests, tests, and more tests—”

“Seriously?” Joe says. “We lost our lives and everything we’ve worked for because of a girl on Instagram?”