Page 55 of Styx & Stones

“Christ.” Styx exhales loudly and tips his head back, his eyes closed, and brow furrowed.

“You know I have no choice but to report you?”

“Come on, man.” Styx squeezes my side. “Please don’t do that.”

“We have cancer,” I blurt. The man stares at me with his brows raised and ayou don’t expect me to buy this bullshitexpression on his face. “It’s true. We’re just ... we’re just trying to make it to Disneyland.”

“Disneyland?” His tone is incredulous.

“Come on, Noah,” Styx says. “You remember what it was like to be young, don’t you?”

“I’m thirty-eight, kid. That’s not old.”

“It’s kinda old,” I say, though I regret it instantly when his frown deepens. “Sorry.”

He seems to hesitate, wets his lips, and then says, “What kind of cancer? The News didn’t specify. They just said you were sick.”

“Alveolar rhabdomyosarcoma,” Styx says.

I point to my head and shrug. “Brain tumor. I have surgery next week.”

“Hence the Disney road trip.” Styx grips my waist, as if he’s afraid I’ll be snatched away at any second.I know how he feels.

“Please? Please don’t report us.” I beg. “We just ... we just wanna feel like normal kids for a minute.”

“Ah, shit.” He scratches his stubble. “I could get into real trouble doing this. If I’d been here this afternoon when you checked in, I would have had some questions and made a few calls. You’re lucky Ella was the one to handle your reservation.”

“Is that your daughter?” I ask with a sad smile.

“Yeah.”

“She’s our age, right?” I slide my hands into the pockets of the hoodie Styx gave me.

He shakes his head. “She’s fourteen.”

“What would you do if she were in our shoes?”

“She wouldn’t be in your shoes because I’d kill her if she ever ran away with a boy across the state. Cancer or not.” He sighs. “Look, if I don’t report this, I could get in a lot of trouble.”

“Please?”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Styx says. “Maybe this was a stupid idea.”

“No. It’s not a stupid idea. It’s the best idea, and it’s the only real shot we have. They’re going to cut open my skull in a week. They’re going to carve a tumor out of my brain, and I may end up a vegetable for the rest of my life. I’m seventeen, sir, and not to lay the guilt on thick, but this may be the last chance I get to be a kid, to kiss a boy, and forget about this disease that’s trying to kill us both. So I’m begging you, please, please don’t report us.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head. “You feel safe with this guy?”

I sniff and wipe away my tears with the heel of my hands. “Yeah.”

“You trust him enough to know he’ll stop if you ask him to?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

He nods. “You have any problems, you go for the eyes, and then the groin, and then you run and find me. Cabin twenty-eight, over there by the big Fir.”

“Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose? Telling me how to protect myself in front of the guy you think I need protection from?”

“Don’t bust my balls, kid.” He points to Styx. “And you, you lay a finger on her when she says no, and I’ll kill you myself.”