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Mom smiled at me as I put on some makeup on that Saturday night for the date with Peter. She had this look on her face that I couldn't quite read. "What?"

Peter was going to pick me up in 30 minutes and to tell you the truth, I was excited. I had been thinking about tonight all-day long. It was my first date, and I was excited to see how it would play out. I had seen enough love stories on TV and in books; I wondered if it would be anything like that. Or was it something else entirely?

At first, when I told my parents about the date, they were not on board. They thought it would not be good for my health to go out late at night. They thought I would be safer if I stayed at home and didn't go on a date at all. I don't know how I convinced them to let me go, but somehow they let me go. Dad was still not happy about the idea, but I think mom was excited for me.

There was excitement in her eyes as she leaned on the door frame, looking at me. "You look so nice. I don't think I have seen you put this much effort into your appearance in a long time."

I looked at myself in the mirror. My makeup looked flawless, if I would say so myself, and the clothes that I stole from Farrah's closet were loose, but looked fashionable. I put a lot of effort into my appearance tonight because I knew that this was probably the only time I would go on a date. I knew that after tonight, Peter would probably realize that I wasn't worth his time.

"I thought I should look nice on my first date," I said to her as I played with my hair. I tried to put it up but little bits kept on falling out of the updo. I frowned. It was too short to do anything. Out of frustration, I dropped my hands and let my hair fall around my face. I guess I was going to leave my hair the way it was. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and left the bathroom to go downstairs.

In the living room by the front door, I waited with my parents until I heard a car pull up into the driveway. As I heard the car stop, I swallowed my fear as I looked at them, waiting to tell them my concerns before Peter came in. If I told them right now, they wouldn't have time to argue back about it. "Please don't tell him anything about my health," I begged him.

They frowned at me in disapproval. Just like I thought they would. "What if something happens while you're gone? He needs to know," dad spoke up.

"Then I'll tell him at that moment. Please, I'm begging you," I said, as the doorbell rang. I got up from my seat on the couch and opened the front door to see Peter on the other side. His dark hair brushed to the side, and he smelt like fresh soap and cologne.

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"Hi. Are you ready?" I asked to him, eager to leave, so he didn't have to talk to my parents. I didn't want them to spill my secret.

"Yes, of course," he smiled widely as he put his hands into his skinny jean pockets.

"You two have fun," mom said from behind me.

"Peter, just have her home before 10," dad said in a strict voice, trying to intimidate him, like he did with all of Farrah's love interests. But I wasn't sure if it was working.

Peter nodded at him. "Yes, sir," he said before the door was closed behind me. He walked over to the passenger side of his car and opened the door for me, but not before staring at me one more time, taking me in.

I felt my cheeks blush and for a second he made me feel like something more then a sickly girl. "Thank you," I said politely and took a seat inside of his car that looked recently cleaned. I took a deep breath, filling my nose with the smell of his car that smelt like him, waiting to remember every moment of this night forever.

He walked to the other side and sat in the driver's seat. He turned to me and smiled. "You look beautiful, Clare."

I raised an eyebrow at him. I knew I looked nice, but I didn't think of myself as beautiful. I was beautiful before I got sick. I had long blonde hair; I was a runner, thin but not too thin; I was beautiful then, but now? Now I was just a shell of what I once was. "Thank you."

"So I wanted to get to know you better. I thought the best way to do that is over dinner. I hope you're hungry."

I wasn't hungry, but I replied, "I could eat."

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"I used to work at an ice cream shop maybe 45 minutes away from here. I hated it. But I got free ice cream, so not that bad," Peter explained his past jobs over dinner to me. For the past 30 minutes, he opened up completely. He told me about his entire life, and I liked how honest he was.

I found out that he was a well-rounded person. His hobbies varied, but made him more dynamic. What he saw in me was beyond me. A part of me wondered if he was just simply interested because I was the first person he met in this town. He didn't know the other girls in town. If he did, he would realize that they were better than me.

"but that's enough about me. What I want to know is about you. What makes you tick?" he asked as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for me to spill all my guts to him.

I was hoping he would talk about himself all night long. I didn't want nor know what to say about myself. After all, I didn't know what made me tick. I guess my heart, that made me tick, but I couldn't tell him that. He was expecting more. I used to do so many things, but now? I did nothing, I wasn't exciting, not anymore. Most of the other girls my age had already traveled, had jobs, lovers, a life. I had never left the country; I had never skydived or even stayed awake until the sun rose the next day. "Me? Tick? No, I'm not exciting." I shook my head at him.

He smiled at me as if I was telling a joke. If only he knew that was the truth. "And you see, that's where we disagree. I asked you on this date because I thought you were interesting."

Hi, I'm Clare, a stage four cancer victim... "I play piano. I like to watch vampire diaries. I have a sister who I'm very close with." Because I don't have any other friends...

"Well, I knew you played piano, and I knew you had a sister that you're close to. But how close? It must be so nice having a sibling that you can do stuff with. I always wanted that. It kind of stinks being an only child."

"Oh, believe me, we used to fight all the time. I thought having a little sister was no cakewalk, but it changed about three years ago. Since then we got super close."

He rested his head on his hands as if this conversation suddenly got very exciting. "Now we're getting somewhere. Why did you get super close to her?"

I got cancer and lost most of my 'friends'. They released they didn't want a friend always in the hospital. After all, visiting me there was boring and after a while, they stopped seeing me altogether. Out of sight, out of mind kind of thing. Now we just liked each other's Instagram posts and pretended like we cared. "I realized she was pretty awesome, and we had a lot in common. I realized it wasn't worth fighting with her because she was family and I should just be grateful I had her. After that, we wouldn't separate."

He took a bite of his burger and then asked, "do you have a good relationship with your parents?"

Did he ask all his dates these odd deep personal questions? I shrugged at him. "I consider it pretty normal. I feel that I'm fairly close to both of them. I think I'm closer to my mom than I am with my dad."

"Why's that?"

Because she takes me everywhere is constantly around me. "She's a stay at home mom and I'm homeschooled. We're around each other a lot. I would say she's one of my best friends," I said to him honestly as I took a bite of salad.

The more I talked to him over dinner, the more I wanted to find out about him. I found it interesting that he showed interest in me, the skinny white girl from down the road. Talking to him made me realize I was lacking interaction. I needed it back in my life again. I couldn't help but ask the next question, "so how about you and your parents?"

He smiled at me. "Well, because I'm an only child, I feel like I'm close to them. There's no other sibling to fight attention over. I find them annoying, but they're family, who doesn't find family annoying some times?"

"Do you like being an only child?"

"I try to convince myself that I do, but in all honesty, it's boring. I wish I had a sibling."

As we dove into the conversation more, I laughed at his jokes, smiled at the stories he told me about his dog and Irish grandparents. As selfish as it was, I realized I didn't want this date to be the only one. I wanted more of him, craving the way he made me feel. All the walls that I had put up within the last three years started to crumble during our conversation throughout the dinner.

We drove home to some of his favorite music playing. He sang at the top of his lungs, not afraid of what I would think, and laughed at himself when he forgot the words. He had such a carefree attitude, and I was jealous of that. I wanted to be carefree like him, but cancer made me uptight and worried for almost anything that happened.

He pulled up to my driveway and before I had time to open the car door, he turned to me and asked, "what are you doing next week?"

Starting a new treatment to stop my cancer from spreading. "Oh, I'm not sure. Why?"

"Can we go on another date? I know I'm supposed to call you the next day about this, but I don't want to wait."

I gave a small smile. I didn't have to think about the answer because I wanted that. I liked how I felt when I was with him. I finally was starting to feel like my old self, just a little. I wondered if the more time I spent with him, the more I would change into the person who I craved to be. Selfishly, I would go on as many dates as it took to get there. "I would like that."

"Good, I don't know what we will do but I figure that out and get back to you," he said and got out of the car. He went over to my side and opened the door for me. Quickly, he walked up to the front door beside me, then kissed my cheek. "I really enjoyed my time. I hope you did too. Thank you." And with that, he went back to his car.

I waved him off as I felt myself melt just a little from his warm kiss. It made me feel like I was flying, if only for a second. My heart fluttered in my chest as walked inside my house. He kissed my cheek. He wanted another date for whatever reason; I knew not. But he wanted to be with me, just like I wanted to be with him.

Coming from the living room was my mom, with a huge grin on her face. She looked overjoyed as she took another step closer to me.

I rolled my eyes at her, knowing that she probably saw that entire scene play out from the window. She always stalked Farrah's dates, and no doubt she was doing the same with me.

"He kissed you," she said and wiggled her eyebrows.

"It was just on the cheek, that doesn't count," I brushed her off, even though my stomach still had butterflies.

"So how was it?"

"It was good. He's nice," I yawned, suddenly feeling tired. I didn't realize it until now how exhausting the entire night was and I wanted to get into bed as quick as I could. "He asked me on another date for next week. I told him I could."

Mom frowned. "We'll have to see how you feel."

I felt myself sink in disappointment, like it was a pit of quicksand. I knew she was going to tell me that. I hated her for telling me what I could or couldn't do. I was in charge of my body, not her. Just when I started to enjoy life, it always seemed to be taken from me. Too tried to fight back, I gave up and said, "ok. Well, I'm going to bed."

I got up the stairs and saw that my little sister gone. She must have been out with friends like she often was on the weekends. Instead of waiting for her to come so we could talk, I turned off the light and went to bed early.