Look out for the <> to listen to the song! 

"Clare, we're heading out for dinner, then going to a church meeting. We won't be back until late. Dinner's in the fridge," dad said to me as I laid on the couch reading book that I found lying around on the coffee table a few days after the Smiths came over.

I looked up at him as mom walked right beside him, wearing heels and a red dress that looked classy. They both looked nice, and I was glad that they were going out. It had been months since they went out on a date.

A rush of guilty emotions hit me like darts, knowing that I was the one that prevented them from going on dates. Another reminder that Cancer killed everything around us. "Ok. See you tonight. Have fun," I said to both and smiled.

"You too. Try not to throw any crazy parties while we're away," dad said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes at him dramatically. Like that would ever happen in my life. Who would I even invite? Farrah and my oh so many friends... Yeah, sure. As sad as that fact was, I didn't dwell on it as I forced a small laugh. "I'll try my hardest." I waved them off as they walked out the door.

I heard the garage door open, then close, and with that; I knew they left. It was about time too, now we had the night to ourselves. What would we do you ask? I didn't know, but I loved the idea of having all this freedom.

With all this extra freedom, I went back to reading my book, flipping through few pages as I realized this book wasn't as good as I originally thought. At that moment, Farrah walked into the room with a spring in her step. She looked at me with this enormous smile, hinting that she had an idea up her sleeve, like she often had when my parents left. She was sneaky like that.

"What are you doing?" Farrah asked me. She sat on my legs, that were resting on the couch.

I looked at her, then at my crushed legs as I raised my eyebrows. I didn't understand why she didn't just move them before sitting. "Reading this book about... You know what... I don't know what it is about," I said to her.

She mouthed 'oh' to me and then a second later she said, "what go somewhere?"

"Like where?" I asked, a little skeptical of her invitation. I didn't have a driver's license, so we couldn't go far.

"French fries," she said and smiled at me.

I didn't have to think about it for long. Even if it was just a few miles down the road, the idea of getting fries sounded like a wonderful adventure. With my parents not around to tell me no, I had full freedom to join Farrah and Farrah knew that too, little rebel, took after me. "Sure. I'm in," I said and closed the book.

She got up from my legs with a small cheer, and I followed her lead to get ready. As she slipped on a pair of shoes, she stopped and turned to me with a frown. "Do you have the strength to bike there?" she asked with concern, as if she hadn't thought about this before she suggested the idea.

That question frustrated me more than Farrah would know. I should have enough strength. It was only a three-mile bike ride down a flat road. I used to run that with no problem. Biking it would be no trouble at all. "Yeah, I can do it."

She nodded with a smile, happy with my response, then walked into the garage to get our bikes.

As we started down the road with the warm breeze hitting our face, I felt like for a second I was actually enjoying summer. All too quickly, I started my normal sisterly role as I listened to Farrah tell her stories about high school drama. Before long she was singing songs she heard on the radio, reminding me she was more aware of pop culture than I ever would be and I couldn't help but feel a little jealous of that.

We were a little more than halfway there when she asked, "you don't sing anymore. Why?"

Her question caught me off guard and almost caused me to put on the breaks to think about it better. I hadn't sung in years and I used to sing all the time. I used to love it. But a lot of things had happened to me in those past few years that made me change. I used to sing because it made me happy, now I didn't know what made me happy. Singing didn't make me happy, it just reminded me about how I once was. I rather shut out those memories all together, knowing that it was less painful that way. "I guess I haven't thought about signing recently," I said to her.

"You should sometimes. I want to hear you to sing again. You were so good at it," Farrah said and started singing again, finishing the conversation.

By time we made it to the local fry place, I had a sheen of sweat on my forehead even though it was only 75 degrees out. I quickly dabbed my forehead, not letting Farrah see as we parked our bikes. I struggled to take a few steps forward, feeling my legs cramp up from the ride.

Not noticing my decline in energy, Farrah started walking to the store beside the fry shop. "I'm going next door to look at the clothing sale. I'll be out soon," Farrah called out to me.

I nodded as quickly placed an order. This was why she really wanted to go here. She just wanted to shop and leave me here with the food. She was a shopaholic. If she had just a little money in her pocket, she would have this burning desire to spend it. I leaned on the frame of the shack, knowing that she would be there for a while and I might as well make myself comfortable.

<>

"Hey, are you stalking me?" I heard a voice from behind me.

I smiled, already recognizing his voice. I turned around to face Peter, who was wearing a simple T with a part of soccer shorts that fit him in all the right ways. He looked sweaty with his forehead glistening in the light of the sun but it didn't prevent him from looking amazing, it actually helped him to look even better.

I wondered if he just came from a workout; I wondered if he worked out often. My eyes wonder across his toned body, cementing the idea that he did worked out often. It took me a second to pry my eyes away from his arms when I looked up at his eyes. I just hoped he didn't notice. "I could ask you the same question," I said to him as I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling defensive.

He laughed, defusing the tension within me instantly. "Nah, I'm getting some fish and chips for dinner for my parents. What are you doing here?"

"My sister wanted fries, but, she got distracted and went into a clothing store instead," I said and looked next door where she was at.

He nodded, then smiled. "Stuck with ordering while she gets all the fun."

I shrugged. I could have gone with her, I guess, but I saw little sense in getting nice clothes when all I did was stay home and go to the hospital. Why get dressed up for either event? "I guess so."

He looked at the fry shack, then back at me. "So is this place good?"

I nodded. I grew up in this town and knew all the best places to eat, and this was one of our favorites. "It's the best in town, well it's the only one in town. We love this place."

At that moment, my order of fries came to the counter. I took them and mumbled a thanks to the counter service.

"Hey I wanted to ask you earlier but I haven't had the chance. But would you like to go on a date with me?" Peter asked quickly, practically throwing the words onto my lap.

I raised my eyebrows at him in surprise. Did I just hear him correctly? No one had ever asked me on a date before. Was he really that interested in me? I thought he was just being polite the other day, but a date, this was different. This was more than being polite.

In the back of my mind, I knew he was asking me out because he didn't know that I had cancer. If he found out I was sick, he wouldn't want to date me. As exciting as this moment was, I knew that I couldn't accept. To save myself and him from the letdown and disappointment or reality, I had to refuse. "I don't know if that is such a good idea." I shook my head at him, not wanting to take a risk.

He frowned at me, as if my words hurt him. "Can you just give me a chance?"

I stood there for a second, chewing on his words. One chance. How bad could it be? One didn't have to lead anywhere, did it? Curiosity filled me since I had never been on a date before. If I was dying, I would like to say that I had been on at least one. Plus, I found him attractive, and I was sure that there wouldn't be more than that one date. He would get his fill and move on because I wasn't nearly as exciting as any girl at school. So what the heck was I holding out for? "Ok. I'll give you one chance."

His face lit up into a bright smile. "You'll not be disappointed, Clare; I promise you that much. Can I pick you up tomorrow at 6?"

"Yeah. Sure. That works. I have nothing planned." I never had plans. My life was an empty novel, just waiting to be written by the right story.

He was clearly excited about this, and it was a kind of cute. Then his face turned serious for a second. "You have something," he said and gestured to his nose.

Oh. I rubbed my nose and noticed a little of red on my fingers. And look at that, Cancer here to remind me it existed in my body, just to rain on my parade. Twice in one week. This wasn't normal, since my nose wasn't supposed to bleed this much. And not in front of him, for that fact. How was I going to cover this? "Oh, it's nothing. Just a little nosebleed," I told him.

"Do you want me to do anything for you? Can I help?"

I needed to make him believe that this was nothing. I needed him to not think anything of this. I was fine, and he needed to believe that. I gave him a small smile. "Nah, it's fine. It should go away soon. It's nothing. I'm probably not drinking enough water." At that moment, Peter's order came to the counter.

Perfect, just in time for him to leave. "You better get going to your parents. They're best warm," I said, trying to shoo him off.

He nodded and took the order in his hands.

"Hey Peter," Farrah said as she walked up to us.

"Hey Farrah," Peter said to her. He turned back to me and said, "if you really say that's nothing then I'll let you go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll be there," I said to him and waved him off.

Farrah looked at me with a frown as he left us alone. "How long has it been going?" she asked as she gave me a napkin, referring to the bleed.

I put it up to my nose to help stop the bleeding. "A minute max. It's nothing."

"Twice in one week isn't nothing. Please, can I tell mom and dad about this?" she begged as if it was torture to keep the secret from them.

Never. That would be the worse case scenario. I just got a date with Peter. They were having a life again, going on dates, making friends. I couldn't mess up any of this, not for me, not for them. "No. It's nothing. I'm fine. It must be because I've been doing so much lately."

She frowned, not believing me. She never did believe my lies. "You know by not telling anyone, it's making your life worse." With that, she took the basket of fries from me and found an empty table to sit at.

Yeah, but they shouldn't know what I was truly feeling because most of the time I felt like crap. I didn't want them to know that, because that would make them worry more about me. They would coddle me 100% of the time and I would hate that, I think they would hate that too. I couldn't put that on them. Plus, I liked to not think about how I felt. I forced myself to believe I felt healthy.

I tended to my nose by a trash can for a minute as the bleeding stopped, then joined Farrah where we ate the fries in silence. Our mood killed by one nose bleed. I knew Farrah was mad at me, but I didn't want to talk about it, not here.

As we biked back home, I felt light-headed, but knowing there was still a mile to get home; I pushed through until we got into the garage. I took care to slowly got off the bike, making sure that I didn't fall off. With my hands white knuckling the handle bards, I held onto the bike for support.

"Maybe going for the bike ride wasn't the smartest idea," Farrah said with worry in her voice as she watched me struggle.

These were the moments I hated the most. She was right. I pushed it too much and going out wasn't smart. But I didn't want her to see me this way. Weak, fragile, sick. I hated it every time it happened. I wanted to be strong for them and for me. "No, I wanted to. I don't regret it at all," I said and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to make myself feel better.

After a minute, I felt stable enough to take my hands off the bike. "Let me put your bike away," Farrah said and took the bike from me.

"Ok, I'm just going to sit down inside," I said to her as I stumbled into the house. With difficulty, I made my way to the couch and sat down, putting my head between my knees, taking deep breaths. I just needed to make this stop.

"Let me call mom and dad about this," Farrah said as she came into the house.

I shook my head, even though it made the spinning worse. "Please don't Farrah," I said and sat upright to give her a small smile. "I'm better now. I promise."

She frowned, but she said nothing back.

Well into the night, there was silence in the house. She disagreed with my ideas about how to handle cancer and side effects and right now she was showing me how much she disagreed with them through silence. But that was her opinion, and this was my body. I was the one in charge of it and I got to decide what happens.