"I cannot believe you almost kissed him," Nikki moaned without looking up from her phone. The vibrating vest she wore rattled her voice comically, but I ignored her, pretending to be engrossed in my book. Nikki tilted her head, then grabbed the small pillow sitting in her lap and chucked it at me, nailing me right in the head.

"You can't deny the facts, Nat!" Nikki continued.

"There are no facts," I replied, rubbing the spot on my head where the pillow hit me. "Stop being so dramatic about this."

Nikki groaned loudly as she slumped back into her grey chair, poking at one of the tubes hanging out from her pump. "I have to live vicariously through you. I'm not getting any action. No guy wants to hook up with a girl who has lymphoma." As if saying the word with such emphasis would expel it from her body.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize having cancer was the same as having herpes," I snapped back, which got a giggle out of Nikki. My sister, by nature, was not a negative person, even before she had gotten sick. To her, life was a party, like she radiated sunshine and walked around throwing glitter everywhere. So when she managed to squeak out those small, flippant comments, the infrequency of them only made them sting more.

Nikki's nurse interrupted our bantering to check her vitals. As soon as she started checking and rechecking Nikki's numbers, I knew something was off. She looked almost confused, her face twisted up into an uncomfortable grimace.

"Do you feel alright?" I tried to keep my voice steady as I slid out of my chair and stood beside her.

"I...I think so," she mumbled. She gave a weak chuckle, but it was punctuated by more coughing. "I'm okay...no worries."

The attending nurse was past being worried. "You have a fever. 100.2."

I watched on in horror, helpless as two more nurses appeared beside Nikki. I felt dizzy, like all of the air was being sucked out of  my lungs. A few tests later and they had whisked Nikki away to another oncology room down the hall, leaving me to pace down the white tile floors of the hallway, gnawing at my fingernails.

I remembered reading in one of the thousands of articles I had combed through about how dangerous simple fevers were to cancer patients, and my nerves rattled.

A fever is an abnormally high body temperature, usually accompanied by shivering, headache, and in severe instances, delirium.

Normal people who get fevers are usually out of commission for a day or two. A fever is typically the symptom of another underlying condition, such as a virus, and once an antibiotic is administered, the fever subsides.

However, When a person's immune system is compromised because of cancer and its treatments, it's harder to rebound, even from common illnesses. Some can even become life-threatening.

In less formal words: a simple fever could actually kill someone with cancer.

My hands trembled as I dialed my aunt's cell phone number. It only rang once before going to voicemail.

"Aunt Mel...it's Natalie," I couldn't hide the desperation in my voice. Unshed tears stung the corners of my eyes. "I don't know what's going on. They did all these tests on Nikki and she's not doing well and she has a fever and I don't know what to do." I took a heaving breath. "You need to come to the hospital as soon as you get this."

I'd never felt so helpless. I gripped my phone so tightly in my hands that they shook, desperately trying to wrack my brain for someone else to call...but there was no one. It wasn't until that moment that I realized how alone I really was. My mind flickered back to something Nikki had said a few weeks ago.

I keep thinking...if Mom and Dad were here...they would fix it.

Sure, my parents didn't have the cure to cancer, but I had no doubt in my mind that if they were here, they would find a way to make everything okay. When I was a kid it just seemed like magic - if I'd fallen off my bike and scraped my knee, it was almost like Dad could snap his fingers and the pain would be gone. As I got a little older, and scraped knees turned into mean girls or bad grades, I realized it had been just Mom or Dad doing what they did best - be a parent - and magic or not, I'd never see it again. Aunt Mel had been a good alternative, but she wasn't either of them.

I ducked away into a small waiting room down the hall and slumped into a faded, paisley patterned cushioned chair pressed against a tall window overlooking the quiet streets of the city. I slammed my phone down on a small table beside it in a rage, but anger could only mask fear for so long. My body trembled as sobs ripped through me, and cold, wet tears spilled down my cheeks. I was alone in a little corner of a hospital, and it only amplified the bleakness of the whole situation.

My phone buzzed on the table beside me. I inhaled sharply, but sighed when I realized it was just a text message.

BROOKLYN: Wanna hang out later? Not to brag but I have the best idea.

My breath caught in my throat as I read through Brooklyn's text several times. I debated ignoring him, but what good would that do? He was the only person besides my sister who had given me even a shred of decency since we moved. None of my so-called "friends" from Georgia had even bothered reaching out to me. They were basically all Kevin's friends, and the radio silence made it clear whose side they favored.

Normally, I enjoyed being alone. It was something I considered "safe" because it was something familiar. Something close and tangible, like a weird self-preservation thing. But, sitting by myself in a desolate waiting room with nothing but the ticking clocks and squeaky floors, I didn't need self-preservation. I needed someone. Anyone.

My fingers trembled as I typed a response.

NATALIE: I'm still at the hospital with my sister.

My phone pinged with a reply almost immediately.

BROOKLYN: Everything ok?

Answering him made it all too real. I tried to bite back a sob and steady myself as I replied.

NATALIE: I don't know.

I let my phone clatter to the table and rubbed my hand down the side of my face. My phone buzzed beside me, but I let it sit there for a moment before opening it. I didn't know what I thought he was going to say, but the response he gave me made me nearly drop my phone.

BROOKLYN: Give me 20 minutes. I'll be there.

"Hey, Nat."

I felt someone shake my shoulder. I had fallen asleep with my head nestled in my arms on the table in the waiting room. I rubbed at my face, still blinking away tears that had made their homes in the corners of my eyes. When I finally regained focus, I saw Brooklyn standing over me in a thick, square-framed pair of glasses and a backwards hat. He looked out of sorts, with stubble prickling across his chin and a heavy tiredness glazed over his eyes that he clearly tried to hide behind his glasses. But then he smiled at me, and his sweet, boyish charm overtook it all.

"Good morning sunshine," he said as he set a white plastic bag of food on the table. A strong, spicy aroma wafted from the bag, and I was suddenly very aware of my hunger. I tried to sit up, but my head pounded and the room spun in bright circles around me. I felt Brooklyn's hands on my shoulders, and he crouched down to be eye level with me.

"Hey," he said in a husky whisper. "Are you okay?"

I choked back a sob as I shook my head. Brooklyn pulled me into an embrace, and for just a few moments the world melted away. His strong arms felt like castle walls around me, shielding me from all the stupid, horrible bullshit around me. My cheek brushed against the soft, threadbare material of his grey t-shirt, and his usual cigarettes and citrus scent enveloped me like a warm blanket. I pulled away from him and saw my tears stain his shirt in dark blotches.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled as I wiped the corners of my eyes with my sleeve.

He gave me a light chuckle and shook his head. "You're allowed to be upset, you know."

"I know," I sighed. "The problem is the things I don't know. I don't know what tests they're doing on her, I don't know what issues they're looking for, I don't know if she's scared, or if she's in pain..." My voice trailed off as I gazed down the hall, as if the answers would just materialize there. "My aunt is teaching a class, and I'm guessing her phone is off, so I've just been sitting here trying not to rip my damn hair out."

Brooklyn put his hands on top of mine. The trembling embarrassed me, but he didn't seem to notice, or care. "Look, there's nothing else you can do right now, okay? Plus, I have been in this hospital enough times to know that they've got their shit together. Nikki's in good hands. I'm sure of it."

He sat down in the chair across from me at the table, unpacking two white Styrofoam containers from the bag. "At the very least, don't let this food go to waste," he joked. "I had to go all the way up to North Charleston for this."

I leaned forward on my elbows, letting the magnificent aroma fill my nose. "I've heard that's a pretty bad area, isn't it?" I asked.

"It can be, but it's the only place to get good chiccharóns around here." The way he said chiccharóns with a twisted, mangled Spanish accent got a strained laugh out of me. I sniffed as tears still tried to escape my eyes.

"Please don't ever talk like that again." I gave him a faint grin.

"But I got you to laugh, didn't I?" He retorted with a smirk.

I took a deep breath and nodded, wiping remnants of tears off my cheeks. "Yeah, thanks."

"So...your aunt...?" it came out like a question as he glanced up at me. "I guess your parents aren't coming?"

I knew the question would come eventually, but that didn't make it sting any less. I had to just rip it off quick, like a Band-Aid. "No," I shook my head. "They uh...they died in a car accident when I was about eight. My Aunt Mel, she's my mom's sister. She was never married and never had kids, but she took me and Nikki in."

"Oh shit," Brooklyn hissed through his teeth. "I'm sorry."

Most people have "the face" when they tell you how sorry they are for your unfortunate life circumstances. Brows furrowed, eyes down, lower lip out. Brooklyn didn't though. I felt nothing but kindness from his words instead of thinly veiled pity. His hand twitched like it was about to reach for mine, but he kept it pressed against the plastic table.

"It's okay," I shrugged. "It was so long ago, my memories of them are short and spotty...kind of like a picture that never fully developed."

"Your aunt sounds like she's taken really good care of you guys." His smile filled the room with light. Almost as if he thought he could heal all of my wounds with just a glance.

"Yeah," I nodded. "She has."

After another beat of silence, I forced open the Styrofoam container of food. "So what is this I'm about to eat?" I asked, desperate to deflect.

"It's just fried pork and dirty rice," he replied as he shoved a forkful of food in his mouth. "But it's the best thing you'll ever eat."

We ate in a comfortable silence, but I couldn't help but examine him when he wasn't looking at me. Occasionally he'd roll his neck or crack his knuckles, and even though his voice had been so calm and steady, he fidgeted like something had him on edge.

"This is actually really good," I said with a smile.

Brooklyn chuckled. "I guess in hindsight I really should have asked you if you liked Hispanic food, but I guess it paid off."

"I like all food." I grinned.

"Now that's my kind of girl." He nodded. "Makes ideas for all these not dates easier."

"Whatever you say," I replied with an eye roll. But truthfully, I had started to question what our frequent talking and hangouts truly meant. To either of us.

Brooklyn had made it a point to wedge himself, in all his goonish ways, into the most uncomfortable spots in my life, and I was slowly learning to accept the fact that he wanted to be there. With him, I felt warm and safe, and I tried to ignore how scared the possibilities made me.

Over an hour had passed when my aunt finally came rushing into the hospital. Brooklyn and I had been sitting next to each other in the waiting room, sharing a pair of headphones and listening to the OAR Pandora station on his phone. My stomach churned when our peace was interrupted. I jolted out of my seat, wincing as the headphone got yanked out of my ear.

Aunt Mel's honey blonde hair sat in a disheveled mess on top of her head, threatening to come spilling out of the hair elastic at any time, and she hadn't even bothered to remove her paint-stained apron.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I was teaching and my phone was off and..." She grabbed me and pulled me into a tight hug, and I tensed up. "Anyway, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I brushed her off. I knew I was being short with her, but I couldn't keep my frustration from boiling over. "Nikki's down the hall. She's been with them for about an hour. They keep telling me to just wait."

Aunt Mel nodded, but the silence became tense when she took notice of Brooklyn as he stood up next to me.

"Hi, I'm Brooklyn," he said as he reached out to shake her hand. "I'm sorry we're not meeting under...uh...better circumstances."

My aunt studied him like she'd study a painting - eyes narrow, lips pursed, not really letting on if she liked it...or not.

"Oh, well, thank you," she replied with the tilt of her head. "I'm Natalie's aunt Melanie, or just Mel is fine too." She turned to me with raised eyebrows. "I'm sorry Nat, I didn't know you were seeing someone-"

Brooklyn opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

"We're not," I blurted. "He's just my friend. He...he brought me lunch."

"Yeah..." Brooklyn stammered as a redness dotted his neck. "Just friends."

I swallowed hard. Thankfully, one of Nikki's nurses came scurrying down the hall, and all the choking awkwardness in the air dissipated.

"Miss Mazza?" She addressed my aunt. "If you could come with me please."

Aunt Mel nodded again and gave me one last glance before following the nurse down the hall. When she was out of earshot, I let out a groan.

"Charming, isn't she?" I said with a dry chuckle. "Leave it to my aunt to make things awkward."

"I know the feeling," Brooklyn replied in a low voice. "My dad is like that with me sometimes. Awkward or just plain aggravating."

I could tell Brooklyn's dad struck a nerve as I watched him furrow his brows and pinch his lips together, almost as if he was bracing for something, like a brewing storm.

"Anyway..." he sighed, and it was back to sunshine. "That little adventure I was talking about before..." he gave me a slight grin. "There's this cool vintage movie spot a few towns over. Maybe tomorrow we could grab a movie from there and just have a chill Saturday afternoon in." He paused. "I mean...if you're up for that."

I glanced back down the hall, where I could make out the silhouette of my aunt and her crazy mess of hair. Nikki sat in a wheelchair with breathing tubes protruding from her nose while my aunt spoke to her doctor. When Nikki and I made eye contact, Nikki smiled weakly and waved at me. I took a heaving breath, feeling the knot in my stomach come undone. I turned back to Brooklyn.

"I think I need a chill Saturday in," I said with a smile.

"I'll pick you up around 2:00, okay?" He was so much taller than me, it felt like he had to come down from the moon to lean his head in closer to mine. He paused, his lips inches away from my cheek.

"I'd kiss you goodbye, but...we're just friends."

He turned and walked away before I could fully process what happened, leaving me to melt into a puddle behind him.

✗✗✗