Page 10

An hour after leaving Ally’s, I regained enough control to mooch on back to the hospital. As I quietly open Flakey’s door, the doctor is with him.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news. Looking at your blood results and your scan, it looks like advanced acute myeloid leukemia. We’re still waiting for the results of the lumbar puncture, but I’m pretty sure it will confirm the diagnosis.” I stop dead in my tracks and gasp. I don’t think they realized I was there. Now, they turn their heads, and I feel like a deer in the headlights.

“How long have you been standing there?” asks Flakey, looking very pale and angry.

“Long enough,” I squeak out, having to clear my throat. “Sorry, long enough that I heard what the doctor said.”

“Shit,” shouts Flakey, punching the bed with his fists. “Damn it, Ashley, you’re such a bloody creeper. It’s not enough that I have to deal with this shitshow, now you know and the whole club will know.”

“Are you trying to say I’m a tattletale?” Fuming, I round on Flakey. “Carl, you’re being an asshole. Being sick does not give you the right to speak to me like that. I get you’re facing horrendous possibilities, and that sucks, but why the hell do you think I would tell anyone? A, it’s not my story to tell, and B, you’ll need confirmation first. I knew you could be weird sometimes, but I never had you down for such an asswipe.” I turn, walk out of the door, and slam it as hard as I can. Let the windows rattle, see if I care.

I’m stomping down the corridor and hear Carl shouting. “Ashley, come back. I’m sorry.” Well, he can take his sorry and stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. I’m not having that.

I stomp to the car, and as I sit in the driver’s seat, the gravity of it all hits me. Oh my god, leukemia, advanced stage. Jesus jumping Jehosava, tears overwhelm me and I sob uncontrollably. The big C is not a diagnosis anyone wants or needs, but advanced leukemia? That means it’s . . . I’m trying not to think the word hopeless. There has got to be something they can do, surely. Maybe the diagnosis is wrong? Maybe the lumbar puncture results will come up clear? I know I’m clutching at straws, but hell, I’ve known Carl for a heck of a long time. We used to be best friends when I was growing up, and I classify him as family.

I root through Sarah’s glove box for a tissue. I shudder and gulp in some air, trying to calm myself. I’m such a bitch! How could I leave him like this? I get back out of the car and make my way back to his room. I knock, and don’t wait for permission to enter. Carl is in his bed, his arm across his face, his shoulders shaking but not with laughter. I race over to the bed and throw myself at him, hugging him tight.

“I’m so sorry, Carl. I was such a bitch to you then. I’m so, so sorry.” I sob against him. He looks at me with a tear-stained face.

“Me too, Ash, me too. I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” There we are, both sobbing, trying to make sense out of this craziness. It takes a long time for the tears to stop welling up.

“I’ve been in a lot of pain,” Carl murmurs, his voice still wobbly, “and it’s been going on for months. Never thought anything of it. I worked extra shifts at Stormy’s, saving up for a deposit on a house, wanting to settle down.” His eyes are empty as they sweep the room. “I’ve been so exhausted and tired that I struggled to get my leg over my bike for runs. My concentration shows lapses, which had me nearly spilling a few times. I thought it was just being overworked. My arms and legs were aching really badly lately, and I had lots of nose bleeds, which I put down to high blood pressure from the work stress.” He sighs, and his attempt at laughter is completely without humor. “I should have gone to the doctor sooner and not have been such a pussy.”

“Carl, stop. You can’t blame yourself. It’s not something you brought on yourself. You could not possibly have suspected,” I tell him firmly.

“Well, darlin’, it looks like karma got me in the end. All the shitty and nasty things I’ve done in the past have finally come to bite me in the ass. I always wanted to go out on my bike, not like a sick person, slowly suffering to death. That was not the plan.”

“Carl, stop it. Nothing is certain yet. There will be treatments, and you’re a fighter, a scrapper, so fight like you never have before in your life. Stick your middle finger up at the devil. You’re not ready to join him yet, so don’t sound as if you are.”

“Who says I won’t go up to see the big man? Might get to the pearly gates yet.” He smirks at me. I raise both eyebrows and roll my eyes.

“Really? That’s what you reckon?” I smile wryly.

“The irony is not lost on me.” He lets out a sarcastic chuckle.

“Carl, is there anything you need? Anyone I should call, family maybe? Just let me know and I’ll make it happen.”

“No, dollface, thank you. I have everything I need for now. There is one thing I have to ask of you, though. Keep this between you and me. Don’t tell anyone . Not the brothers, not Raven, not anyone. I need to get my head around this first, then I’ll tell them if and when I’m ready. Can you do that for me?” I look at him, feeling deep sadness and a pinch of panic rising. How can I keep this a secret from Raven? His brother is likely fighting for his life. He’ll want to know, and he’s going to be extremely mad when he finds out that I kept this from him. I look into Carl’s pleading eyes and sigh.

“Yes, okay, I won’t tell a soul. But promise me you’ll call when you need to talk. I’ll come and visit you regularly too. Don’t forget Carl, I’m here for you. You are my brother, too.” Carl swallows and I can see his eyes tearing up again.

“Thanks, little sis, you don’t know how much this means.” I kiss him on the forehead and turn to leave. Just as I do, Jamie walks in. We exchange a swift hug as I struggle to look him in the eye. I hope Carl tells him, and soon. I’m not sure how long I can keep this bombshell of a secret. Taking a deep, grounding breath, I smile at the men and walk out.

???

“Where the hell have you been?” Sarah screeches at me, her voice vibrating with anger. “I blew up your phone all afternoon. Have you seen the time?” she grates out between gritting teeth. I check my phone, which I had put on silent at Ally’s, and there are fifteen missed calls and several text messages. They’re frantic at first, getting more and more pissed as time went on.

Sarah: Where are you? Are you okay? XX

Sarah: Don’t forget I have to pick Leo up at three. Please don’t be late. XX

Sarah: Are you okay? Please answer me. I’m trying to call you. X

Sarah: Ash, where are you? It is nearly three. X

Sarah: WTF Ash, I’m gonna be late for Leo. Get your ass back here now!

Sarah: Ashley Saunders, formerly known as my best friend, I’m so pissed at you! Where the fuck are you? You better be in a life-or-death situation, that is your only acceptable excuse!

Sarah: Ashley, you are officially no longer my best friend!!!!

I hunch my shoulders. It is four-thirty in the afternoon. She should have been home for Leo at three. “I’m so sorry, Sarah,” I stutter, my eyes filling with tears.

Oh, please let today’s emotional rollercoaster be over already , I plead, sending up a quick prayer.

“I’ll make it up to you. Please don’t be mad. I’m so sorry. Sarah, I lost track of time,” I whisper, feeling like the greatest asshole in the universe right now. Poor Leo, I hope his grandma isn’t hopping mad. She hates anyone not being punctual. It’s her pet peeve and she can be a bitch at times. The look of disappointment in my best friend’s eyes cuts me to the core.

“Whatever,” she grunts out, then she turns and walks out, keys in hand. I drop onto the sofa, put my head in my hands, and sob.

A couple of hours and a large Ben and Jerry’s helping later, I take a hot shower. I’m such a crap friend. First, I didn’t spot Carl feeling bad, then I let Sarah down, and third, I didn’t warn her about Rusty. I attempt to wash the bad feeling down the drain, but that is only partially helping. I take a deep, fortifying breath.

I’m strong, I’m a good person, I’m worthy, I’m loved. I’m strong, I’m a good person, I’m worthy, I’m loved. I repeat that mantra several more times, in time with my breathing, while the warm water cascading down my body comforts me. If ever there was a time for mindfulness, this is it.

After half an hour, I feel calm enough—and shriveled like a prune—to get out of my steamy bathroom, get dried and dressed, and face the music. I fucked up big time. Now, it’s time to do some serious groveling. Sitting on my bed, I dial Sarah’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. I try again with the same outcome, but this time, I leave a message.

“Hi, Sarah. I’m so sorry I was late. I know you’re mad at me and you have every reason to be. I got held up at Ally’s and then Carl really needed me. I’m so, so sorry. Please call me when you get this. I really want to make it up to you and Leo,” I plead with her. All I can do now is wait and be ready for her full-on rant. I deserve it.