Look out for the <>!

I sat in a chair in one of my normal hospital rooms as tried to keep myself busy without a phone. I picked at my nails, hoping this would prove aide but to no avail. I shifted in my bed, feeling uncomfortable even though I just got here. Without something to distract me, I was hating every moment I spent here.

Quickly, I relied on my mind for shelter, thinking back to what happened last night, how Peter had asked me to be his girlfriend. I barely slept last night as I thought about it with such excitement. I don't think the butterflies would ever go away from it.

"Clare, you forgot something last time you were here," nurse Jensen said, breaking me out from my thoughts as she waved my cell phone in her hand.

The curly haired lady that I forced a smile at returned it instantly. There was trust between me and the nurses, and Nurse Jensen was always watching out for me. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver."

I hoped that someone would find it and return it to me quickly. All the nurses knew my phone by now since I had left it here enough times. I had been waiting to get my phone back since yesterday. In my opinion, that was too long of a wait since I was anxious to see what Peter had texted me, if he texted me at all.

She chuckled at me as she checked my IV. "I wouldn't consider this a lifesaving event."

"It is for me," I said, and took the phone from her, expecting it to be dead but was surprised that it had full battery.

"I charged it, so you're good to go. And let me tell you, your phone has been blowing up. Some boy named Peter won't stop texting," she said, and threw me a wink. "But I promise, I read nothing." 

The idea that Peter was texting me, blowing up my phone caused a smile to creep across my face. No one had ever blown up my phone. I glanced through my message that he sent. There had to be at least 10 messages in the last 18 hours. I felt my smile grow wider, if that was even possible. He really did like me, didn't he?

"Wow, something must have happened. I haven't seen you smile this much in too long. Has anyone told you that you have a beautiful smile?" nurse Jensen asked as she looked at my charts. She leaned back against the wall as a smile played across her face.

My cheeks grew warm. "Thank you. Things are looking up for me, for the first time in like ever. I think I'm finally happy with my life. I have decided that I should be happy with the time I have, not dreading what might come in the future. I'm trying to live in the moment, you know?"

"What changed? A boy? Is it this Peter kid?" she asked as she wiggled her eyebrows at me.

"Nurse Jensen, please, but you're right," I admitted shyly to her.

She flashed a smile at me. "Do I know you or what?"

I nodded. And it was the truth. She knew me well. Better than most people.

"Good for you Clare. I'm happy for you. I want to meet this Peter kid. The way you have been smiling, he must be a really special boy," she said.

"He is; he makes me feel special." And I wasn't being dramatic about that. I was especially normal with him, and I loved it.

Suddenly her two-way radio went off. And just like that, our conversation was over, and she had to move on. She frowned at it as if that would make anything better. Finally, she sighed. "Just remember, I want him to come here soon. I want to approve," she smiled at me before she left my room.

As much as I loved Nurse Jensen, I knew that I would never bring him here. "Not likely," I muttered, knowing that I was going to do all I could to keep my secret from him. He wasn't never going to see me in here, he would never know this side of my life. If I showed him, he would treat me differently, and I didn't want that.

<>

A few minutes later, Doctor Patel walked in with graphs and charts in his hand. He looked like he was more well-rested than the last time I saw him. "Hello, Clare," he greeted me.

I nodded at him. "Hello, Doctor Patel. So what are the results of the MRI?" I asked, skipping the pleasantries and cutting to the major reason why he was here. I put on my brave face, still as marble as I waited for whatever he was going to tell me.

He held the graphs up, then frowned at me. "It's not good, Clare. The cancer is spreading, faster than we have seen it spread before."

I felt my marble face crack a little. He had never said those words to me before. I could hear the fear in his voice, which scared me more than anything else. I frowned at him as I held myself together. Back in my mind, I knew that this could happen. I was expecting it honestly. But I didn't think it would come so soon. "What's the plan then?" I asked, as I tried to keep my voice from breaking.

"We're upping your treatment. I think the best plan is to give you stronger doses twice a week for the next three weeks. After three weeks of this, we'll reevaluate. I'm hopeful that this will work for you Clare."

I frowned at him. Hopeful wasn't a guarantee. So much for my summer break. Looks like I'll work on my dudgeon tan this summer. "Will I lose my hair again?" I asked as I ran my hands through it. I have finally gotten it to my shoulders. I didn't want to lose it again. I would have to start over and that means that would be harder to keep it a secret from Peter.

"I'm not 100% sure about that. Did you read the paperwork I gave you? It should tell you more about it."

"No, but I'll read it. I promise."

He chuckled at me, dispersing the tension air in the room for only a second. "Clare, if I have learned one thing from you, it is that your promises are never kept," he said and got up from his chair that he was sitting in. "Are you going to the support group today?"

"Yeah, I think I might," I shrugged.

He nodded at me. "Ok, I'll see you next week. Just hang tight until then, and please read that paperwork. It shouldn't take you long at all to at least skim it."

"I promise I will."

He shook his head. "What did I say about your promises?"

I tried to force a smile at him, although it felt more like a grimace. "I'll work on it." I then watched him as he walked out of the room when I waited for another solid minute before letting myself cry. I was dying. He confirmed it. I wondered how much time I would have? He had reason to believe that there was hope though, but honestly, how much hope was there, really? Would it take away my cancer completely or would it just buy me a few more months?

If I died now, I would miss out on everything life offered. People said that 18 is the true start of life and I would miss that completely. I would miss out on moving out, going to college, paying off student loans, getting married, having a child or two, and growing old. I would miss out on seeing my sister grow up and fall in love and marry. I didn't want to miss any of that. I didn't want to miss out on any of that. I needed to fight this, I needed to survive.

I wasn't really sure how long I cried for, but after a while; I was able to regain myself. I figured it was better to get my mind off of this subject. I looked at my phone and texted Peter. "I found it." I texted him with a sniffle.

Within a minute, he texted back. "Good! I was getting worried that you would never find it. I thought I would have to be old school and call your house phone every time I wanted to get together. Maybe even send smoke signals."

I gave a small smile as I tried to imagine what that would be like. "So what are you doing?" I texted back to him.

"I just worked out and now I have to help my parents unpack more. Ick. You?"

"Grocery shopping with mom. Boring." I lied to him.

"I think I rather unpack than grocery shop."

"Hahaha. Thanks."

"So when you get back, want to hang out?"

I nodded, knowing that I may be sick for the drugs pumping through me, however I still wanted to go out. "I would like that."

"How about around eight tonight? A buddy's doing a bonfire and I would love it if you came."

I thought about what my dad said last night. He wouldn't approve of me going out so late. He didn't approve of much, but maybe I could convince him to let me. It wasn't just a bonfire, how bad could that be? "I would like that but I need to talk it over with my parents to make sure it is ok."

"Fair. Just let me know. I want to hang out with you either way."

We texted a little more, but soon I had to let him go because I thought it would be best to go to the support group meeting.

I walked back into the room where the support group met. Once again, I sat next to the girl named Anna. By now, I had already attended a few meetings with her. I smiled at myself as I thought about when I first met her. I hoped she wouldn't talk, but after a few minutes of her talking; I gave in and started talking back. Since then we only got closer. She talked about her life and her experiences and I honestly enjoy talking to her. Anna was on the fast track to becoming my friend and I think I liked it.

I found out that we had more in common than we had different. We talked about the hospital and about living with cancer. She told me all her fears and after a bit; I shared some of my fears. I had never done this with anyone before, but as I did it, I felt free. I didn't open up to my parents often, and I wasn't planning on sharing with Peter, so it was nice to talk to someone that was in the same boat as me.

The support group meeting was boring to tell you the truth. The only thing that made it worth it was talking to Anna before the meeting started. I never thought I would be friends with another cancer patient again, but I found her spunky humor refreshing. She made me laugh, and that was something that few people could do. She was a bit overly happy and excited and at first; it was just annoying, but now it made me smile.

"So are you going to sign up?" Anna whispered to me as she passed the clipboard over to me. She was referring to the talent show that was coming up.

They still were looking for volunteers to sign up for the upcoming talent show, but I didn't dare put my name down. I didn't want to be on stage with everyone staring at me. I could barely stare at myself. I didn't want to force people to do the same. I hadn't done singing in years and I didn't plan on doing it again until I got better. When I sang, I was at the center of attention, and I didn't want to bring attention to myself like that. I shook my head at her. "Nah, I rather pass on that."

"Oh, come on! I know you have talent hidden somewhere in your body," she said and poked my side.

I gave a small chuckle. "I don't see you signing up," I said to her as I tried to steer the conversation away from me.

She raised her eyebrows at me. "I can honestly say that I have no talent to share unless drawing is a talent for a show. But then you would just but watching me draw for an hour and that wouldn't be fun."

I frowned at her; she had a point. "Maybe not. But I want to see those sketches at some point."

"And I'll show you. I just don't have any good ones on me," she explained to me.

The rest of the meeting went on with no stores to share and after treatment, dad picked me up. As we drove home, I found it an excellent opportunity to ask him if I could go out tonight with Peter. "Hey Dad? Could I go out to a bonfire tonight with Peter?" I asked with insecurity in my voice, afraid of what he would say back to me.

He frowned at me. "that's not smart."

I knew he was going to say that, so I knew what to say back to him. "But Farrah always goes out with her friends. I never go out! I just want to go out tonight. Besides, the drugs shouldn't bother me until tomorrow. This is my only chance before I felt awful."

"Farrah isn't sick."

"Well, I'm not either," I replied. I hated that because I didn't see myself as sick. Yes, I had cancer, but to me that was different. When people said that they were sick, they had a cold or the flu, not cancer. This was different.

He gave me a look. "I'm not going to even comment on that."

There was a minute of silence and then I asked, "Please?" unable to take no as an answer.

He sighed loudly, knowing that I would not stop, and said, "You give me more gray hair than I can count. Fine. But be back by 10:30."

"Yes! Thanks, dad!" I said to him and pulled out my phone to text Peter the good news.