Jo
DREW'S BEAT-UP truck isn't so beat-up anymore. He has managed to get it repainted from its dead, peeling blue to a shining red. The fender has been replaced and even though there are still a few cracks on the windshield, it's still oddly presentable.
He steps on the brakes and the car slows to a pause but he doesn't kill the engine. By the time he looks away from the students chatting outside the window while some head into the hallway, he finally speaks.
"I haven't been to this shithole in years. Nice to see it hasn't changed a bit."
I don't respond, so he turns to me and frowns when he meets my stare. "Is there something on my face?"
"Now, do you want to tell me why you decided to drop me off at school this morning? Very randomly at that."
He scratches his chin out of habit. His beard is properly trimmed today. "It wasn't a random decision. Why walk to school when I've got a car that could drop you off? Plus, it's nice to return to a school that you used to go. It's nice to remember and shit like that."
"Déjà vu." I say and he nods.
"You're the English guru, not me."
"You just sounded like you cared." I say like an accusation and he drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "You've been home for almost two weeks now and I've been walking to school since this week started in your presence. Why do you suddenly give a shit about me walking or not?"
He groans and shoots me an unhappy look. "Why do you have to whine so much?"
"I'm not whining. I'm curious."
"Fine." He grits. "I got some stupid job at an auto shop. That's all I wanted to say."
I perk up on the seat. "Have you told mum?"
"No." He grumbles.
I roll my lips together to stop a smile from spreading. "She's going to be over excited."
"I know." He says. Then he coughs once and takes a deep breath. "That's why I told you first. Don't ask me any questions. Figure the rest out."
When Drew and I were little, we told each other everything first. Even before we told our any of our parents. He'd tell me something that happened to him and then I'd do the same. It was like we were exchanging information and it was something we always did even while we became older. That was until we grew apart.
And now he's told me something he hasn't told mum and I'm assuming he wants me to say something back. We haven't done it in months but it doesn't stop my heart from lifting in excitement.
I lick my lips and stare at my hands. "You already know I like a boy. But I'm scared, for many reasons."
"Most boys are shit."
"Like you." I interject and he grimly nods.
"But not every one is an asshole like your dad."
"For the first time in a while, we're having a decent conversation and you just had to ruin it."
He feigns a confused look. "Have I said something wrong?"
"That's funny because you look exactly like him."
"And you don't know how much I hate it." He says, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles slowly turn white. "Or how much I hate to look at myself at the mirror because all I see is that son of a bitch."
I don't say a word after that because I know we've started a risky conversation that none of us are ready to engage in, so I keep my mouth shut and listen to the warning bell reverberate from the hallway.
I look out the window and take note of the fliers and banners pasted against the school walls advertising the bake sale that's coming up by the weekend. He stares at them too and then he speaks again. This time, he sounds less aggressive.
"What's the fundraiser about?"
"Winter formal is coming up as usual." I say in a bored tone, like I've ever been to one. "The students council is hosting a bake sale to raise money for it."
"You have a date?" He asks and I frown like he's asked me an offensive question.
"I'm not going." I say rather roughly. "I've never been to one."
"What about your boyfriend?"
My face gets warm and I grab my bag from the backseat and glare at him. "He's not my boyfriend."
"Sure, whatever." He says with a hint of a tiny smirk but it disappears when he starts to cough. Throughout the ride to school, he coughed twice and it was easy for me to assume he caught a cold since it's pretty much freezing outside. But now, when I watch him wheeze and cough into his fist, concern mars my face and I can't stop asking questions.
"Are you okay?"
He covers his mouth with his hand and glares at me. "I'm fine."
"You don't look okay."
"Don't be annoying. I caught a cold."
I force his hand away from his mouth and my heart drops. "There's blood."
He shrugs me off and clears his throat before taking his hand off his mouth. He licks his lips and balls his hand into a fist before gesturing to the door with a nod of his head. "Get out of my car."
"You're fucking sick and you just asked me to get out of your car. Does mum know about this? When did it start?"
"I'm not sick." He spits. He forces the car door open and gestures for me to leave. "The first bell just rang. Get out and don't start telling mum shit. I'm fine."
"Drewâ"
"Josephine," he says, staring at me squarely. "Get. Out."
"Fine." I grit, climbing down and slamming the door shut. "Fuck you."
"Yeah. Fuck you too." And then he zooms off.
God, it takes me a lot not to stomp my feet on the ground or pull my hair out. He's so annoying. But he's not healthy and I'm definitely not going to keep quiet about it.
"Hey, you good?" Someone says from behind and I turn around to see Cass staring at me before looking at Drew's car speeding off in the distance. "Was that your brother?"
"Yeah." I nod grimly. "He's the worst."
She grins as we walk into the hallway. "Aren't they all?"
"I thought you were an only child."
"Yeah, of my mum." She shrugs. "My dad had some kids before he met my mum so yeah. They're older and annoying most of the time."
I like how she says it so casually because when I think about my dad having kids after us, all I feel is pain. But that's different, isn't it? Cass's dad didn't leave them to start another family somewhere else. I run my hands down my face and sigh.
One problem at a time.
She chats animatedly about a party she went to yesterday night, all the way to English class and as much as I find some parts of it entertaining, all I can feel is worry about my brother's health. And what else he could possibly be hiding from us.
It's almost instinctive for me to briefly look round for Flynn whenever I walk into a class that we share and it's almost funny to see an empty spot beside Semia today. But he's not anywhere in class as well. I can't tell if he's absent or late so I don't come up with conclusions even when I sit next to Amanda and Cass.
Miss Anderson whistles a tune while she distributes our essays back to us and when she drops mine in front of me, I'm not being proud or anything but I'm definitely not surprised when I see an A+ at the topmost left corner of my sheet.
"I gave everyone of you more than enough time to complete your essays," she says as she goes round the class, dropping each sheet in front of everyone she sees. "In other words, there will be no makeups."
A couple of people groan at the back and she ignores them while she makes her way over to her desk with the rest of the papers in her hands. Presumably for those who are absent. "That's the reward of your labor." She quips and drops them on her table.
"We won't be doing much today." She says, turning around. "I'm sure you all know your exams are coming up next week so we'll revise till then."
I fiddle with my pen as she speaks, mentally trying to remember the exam timetable that was pasted on the billboard a week ago and then I look up when she says something else.
"That reminds me, Josephine Pryce?"
I sit up straighter on my seat and meekly raise a hand. She nods. "See me after class."
"Are you in trouble?" Amanda whispers in my ears and I shrug because I'm not sure why she's called me out today but I'm sure I'll get answers once the class is over.
"I hope not."
True to her words, we only revise on some of the topics we covered during the semester and right after the class is over, I wait for a few minutes for the rest of the class to leave before dragging myself to her table.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Yes." She nods and shuts her laptop before she gestures for me to take a seat in front of her. I pull one of the chairs closer and do that before folding my hands on my lap and running through different reasons as to why she may have called me here.
"I can't tell if it was accidental or not, but you turned in two essays. The other was folded into the first."
I frown and lean forward on her table when she brings the second paper out. She unfolds it and stares at it again.
"It's a poem." She says. "A beautiful poem and I'm highly impressed by what I've seen."
When she turns it over, nerves fill my stomach at the sight of my handwriting staring back at me. It's a rewrite of the poem I wrote during summer. The first poem I ever attempted thinking of submitting to the school's paper department. The same one I tore in shreds immediately I saw Sara Hotchkin's poem on the billboard as the winner of the best article in Lakeville's weekly.
"I don't know how it got there." I admit, feeling sweat already pooling at that collar of my shirt. "It was probably a mix up."
"It doesn't matter." She says. "If birds could talk. That's interesting. Is this a hobby? Writing poems, I mean."
I nod awkwardly. I feel like I'm sitting on a hot seat. "Poems, short stories and the likes."
"Have you ever thought of publishing one? Or you know, starting locally by submitting it to the newspaper department? They'd definitely eat this up."
She says it so casually and it's funny to me because 'publishing' is a pretty heavy word. Plus, I really don't want to have anything to do with Daniel anymore especially since he gave me no reply on the essay I submitted the other day. And honestly, I don't even want to hear it.
"It's not for the public eye." I say firmly, like I don't think about telling someone about my work everyday. "I write for myself."
"That's good." She says, smiling. "A shame though because you've got real talent and I know so many people would eat this up."
That gives me hope. God, it does. But I don't let it show. Instead, I press my lips into a thin line and look down at her table.
"Here." She says, bringing my attention back to her as she hands me a flyer. "If you ever think about changing your mind, you could start with that."
I stare at the flyer and allow the words engrave themselves into my brain. It's an advert for a festive write-a-thon promising a couple of prizes for the individual with the best article.
"It's online so it's easier." She adds. "Just give it a thought, Josephine." She slides the paper over to me. "This is gold."
She's only exaggerating. I tell myself as I grab the paper but the more her words sink into my brain, the more I consciously try to filter out the negativity that usually associates itself with my writing.
"Thank you." I tell her because she might not know this, but this means a lot more than she can ever imagine. "A lot."
"Anytime," she smiles. "If you ever need help with the process, don't hesitate to let me know. I'll be happy to help."
"Thank you." I smile genuinely. For the first time in days, I have a reason to really be happy for something. I look down at the flyer again but something on her table catches my eye and I'm forced to look back at it when I see Flynn's paper peeking out at the side from the small pile of papers on her desk.
"That's Flynn's essay." She says, obviously catching my prying and I blush from embarrassment.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snoop around."
"It's okay." She says, waving me off and pulling out the sheet. "I'd have a problem if it was another student but I don't have a problem with you seeing his result."
My brows raise on their own. "Why?"
"Right before he turned his in, he told me you accepted to be his English tutor in the school's program and I'm glad you did because it's the first time, he's actually impressed me with his grade."
"Oh." I say because I don't know what else to say. I'm slightly mortified he revealed that information to her but then again, there's no reason to hide it either.
"He wasn't in class today." She says and I nod. "Do you think you could give this to him when you see him?"
"Why me?" I ask, biting down my lip because one of the processes of getting over someone is definitely not being around them.
"Because you were his tutor." She tells me like it's obvious. "Also, he told me you're close."
My eyes bulge. "What?"
"In his words, both of you are pretty tight." Miss Anderson says, biting a smile before handing the sheet of paper to me.
All of the curse words in my head evaporate as soon as I see a B+ staring at me from his paper. I try not to smile because for some reason, it makes me happier to see that he passed than my own A+.
"Right." I say, getting to my feet. "Thank you Miss Anderson."
"You're welcome." She smiles. "Don't forget to give it a thought."
I give her a determined nod before turning around and exiting the class. For the rest of the day, I'm floating. Floating in daydreams about signing up for the write-a-thon and coming out with the best article while people 'eat up' my work. And then, I come down from my high when I remember the blood on Drew's hand from his mouth this morning and when I think about numerous reasons as to why Flynn is absent in school today.
After school, I take a detour and visit a flower shop before purchasing a bouquet of fresh peonies. The central hospital isn't too far from Rose's garden so I make a beeline for it and it doesn't take me too long before I'm standing in the elevator that leads me directly to Ellie's floor.
Before I knock, a wave of nerves hits me like I'm coming here for the first time and I'm not exactly sure why. Still, I take a deep breath and knock gently before opening the door once I hear a meek 'come in' from her.
I find her sitting on her bed with a novel in her hands. She's exactly in the same position I met her the last time I was here but now she has a purple scarf tied around her head.
"Jo!" She beams excitedly once she sees me and I move closer for her to wrap an arm around me for a hug. She's slightly paler than usual and her eyes have lost their rich color but she's smiling and she's beautiful nonetheless.
She takes the flowers from my hands, inhales and sighs before dropping her novel flat on the bed. "You were right." She says. "I do look good with a buzz cut." She unwraps the scarf from her head and reveals the haircut. She's cut most of her hair and is sporting a nice looking buzz and I smile at her.
"You look beautiful."
"Thank you." She responds, staring at the flowers. "Everyday. Flynn says that to me everyday. Sometimes it's hard to believe."
"It's the truth." I tell her because it is.
"Did you see him on the way here?" She asks, looking at the door like he'll come in anytime soon. "He was here a while ago."
"No, I didn't." I shake my head. I would have seen his car or something.
"He must be really mad then."
"Mad?" My brows furrow as I take a seat and place my backpack on my thighs. "Did something happen? He wasn't at school today as well."
She drops the flowers in a jar and looks at me. She looks like she's about to cry. "Mum is expecting a baby." She says. "I've always known. She and dad told me immediately they found out but we didn't tell Flynn because we expected him to react just like he did this morning."
"This morning?" I ask and she nods with a sniff.
"He found out this morning. He saw the papers in their room and he got mad. We were going to tell him soon, I swear but he wasn't mad because we didn't tell him about it on time. He was mad because he thinks they're trying to replace me so soon."
"Oh no." I whisper but she hears me and she nods.
"And that's not it." She says and a tear rolls down her eye. "It's not, I swear it's not." The more she speaks, the more she cries. I hold her hand as she cries and shakes her head. "He's just overreacting and it's annoying."
I play with her fingers and smile a little. "Just give him a little time."
"There's no time." She firmly says. "None of this is working."
"None of what?" I ask even though I have a feeling that I know what she's about to say and that scares me.
"The chemo, the trials. It's all bullshit."
"You can't say that."
"I can." She smiles a little, cleaning her face with her hand and anxiety takes a hold of me even while I grip her hand for comfort. It's almost like I'm comforting myself and not her.
"When the last trial worked, I knew it was working. I don't know how to explain it but you just feel it. You just know. And I've known for a while that all of this was wasting my time but I went on with it anyway." She admits. "Flynn didn't go to school because of me. He was here throughout and then this afternoon I told him to prepare the speech he promised me and he stormed off." Then she laughs a little. "You know that's the reason he joined debate in the first place? Cos he freezes up in public so I kind of advised him to join a public communication class or a debate club or something so he could get better at giving speech. He promised me the best speech then and now he stormed off when I spoke about it today."
"He'll come down soon, I promise." I tell her, struggling to keep a neutral voice. "And I'll also be with you every step of the way. That's definitely a promise."
She squeezes my hand with a grin. "That means a lot. Thank you, Jo." She says and I nod.
"I've almost completed my bucket list." She says, bringing out a folded sheet of paper from the novel she'd been reading earlier. "Flynn and I made this the first time I got diagnosed. I've grown older and added a few more things but it's almost complete. You think you could complete some with me and Flynn?"
"Why not?" I shrug, smiling. "Sure thing."
She smiles, thanking me profusely and then we talk about everything and nothing before she sleeps off. By the time I glance at her one more time before shutting the door to her room, the tears fall. I cover my mouth with my hand and cry silently. I cry for her and I cry for Flynn. I also cry for myself because I know what it's like to get detached from your sibling talk less of loosing one to cancer.