Do you remember

The 21st night of September?

Love was changin' the minds of pretenders

While chasin' the clouds away...

"Can we listen to something from this decade, please?" I ask through laughter.

Nathan is sitting on our back porch, English, Math, and Chemistry notes strewn across the light brown wood, bopping his head to the music.

"You have no music taste, Gee," he says, turning the music at least a couple of decibels louder.

"I think you mean to say I instead of you. Because I have music taste."

Nathan nods in my direction and hands me his phone.

"Them fightin' words, Richards."

I put my phone over my school notes in an attempt to keep the wind from blowing them away. The sun shines on this beautiful September day and not a single cloud is in sight. I breathe in, allowing my lungs to swell with the sweet, fresh, fall air.

"They're only fighting words if they're wrong." I pull up his lock screen and smile at his background—a photo of him giving me a piggyback ride from last summer. It was easily one of the best days I've ever had. Before my diagnosis. That's what made it perfect.

"And I'm not wrong," I finish.

Nathan laughs and shakes his head. "Yeah, we'll see. The ban of One Direction still stands."

I lightly whack him with one of my notebooks. "Fine. I'll just have to do something else."

I scroll through his playlists, trying to find the perfect song. Gemma's songs peaks my interest. I click on it, finding a plethora of songs, ranging from pop—like One Direction, Katy Perry, and OneRepublic—to Disney to romantic ballads. I scan the playlist. My eyes land on the perfect song. Grinning widely, I hit play, turn the volume all the way up, and set his phone down.

The song begins to play.

Into the unknown...

Into the unknown...

Into the unknown...

"No," Nathan says with mock horror. "You did not just play Disney when I put on a perfectly good seventies bop!"

"Would you calm down, drama queen? This is Panic! At the Disco, so it is not just Disney."

Nathan laughs. "Did you just call me a drama queen?"

I stick my tongue out at him and turn back to my notes.

"Since when did you have a playlist just for me?"

Nathan is silent for a few minutes. Into the Unknown continues to play in the background.

"I knew the music war would one day come to a climax, so I prepared myself."

I hum and nod. Nathan looks down at his scattered notes and tucks his pen behind his ear.

"So, you were just helping me win?" I ask in a goofy tone.

"You know why I made it, Gee..." he says quietly.

I swallow and look over at the Rocky Mountains, admiring their picturesque nature. Before I can answer, Tony walks out the back door and nods towards me.

"Yo, Nate, Gemma has to go. We've got something to do."

"There is no we, Tony." I turn back to Nathan and smile, admiring how concentrated he looks.

And then I feel instantly weird.

"Um," I start, trying to change my track of mind. "I have to go. My dad wants us to try this new family bonding thing. I guess the idea of senior year is really hitting him hard."

Nathan smiles and grabs his phone. He turns off the music and pockets the device.

"It's all good. My folks are kind of the same right now. But I think we made good progress on our capstone ideas. We're going to kill it."

He lifts his right hand in the air. Without any hesitation, I slap his right hand with my left. We both laugh at the sting a perfectly good high-five leaves.

"See you later, Richards."

"Right back at you, Foster."

I gather my books, shove them into my bag, and leave. Tony is a few paces in front of me. Once we're safely out of the Foster home, I close the gap between us and slap his arm.

"Ow!" he yelps, rubbing his right arm. "What was that for?"

"First you give me grief about lying to Nathan and then you turn around and do the same exact thing?"
"Chill, Gemma. He's your friend, not mine."

"That doesn't make it any less right!" I unlock our front door and shove it open. "Nathan could look over the fence and see that his car isn't here. Did you even think of that?"

"No."

I slam the door and drop my backpack on the ground beside it. "Of course not. Because you don't think. You just do."

"Like you're the one who can give me lessons on morality," Tony scoffs.

I look at my older brother. Everything around me has a kaleidoscope effect as tears fill my eyes.

"I—" I swallow the pain and turn back around. "I don't even recognize you anymore."

Without any hesitation, I run up the stairs and into my room.

---

Stabbing pain shoots through my stomach. I curl into the fetal position and moan into my pillows, hoping the pain will go away. When I glance at my clock through blurred vision, it reads 5:30. I think.

"Tony!" I yell.

Nothing. My stomach flips as I lurch forward in search of my trash can. Nothing comes up. I gulp in the fresh air, willing nausea away.

"Tony!" I yell again; my voice sounds hoarse.

After a few minutes, Tony stumbles into my room. He wears only pajama pants. His hair sticks every which way.

"What the he—" he starts, then stops when he sees my trash can. "What's wrong?"

"My stomach..."

He rushes to my side and pulls the hair from my face. I swat his hands away and lay back on my side. The air feels cold, but my face is slick with sweat.

"Did...did D-Dad leave for...for work?" I stutter.

Tony looks at the digital clock on my desk. "Yeah, about half an hour ago."

I stifle a sob as I curl into a tighter ball.

The thing about Hodgkin's lymphoma that makes it absolutely terrible is how it makes my immune system practically useless. There's no telling if I'm battling a bug, a type of infection, or if the cancer spread. For all I know, I could have too much or too little and my body will scream "Intruder!" Talk about getting wires crossed.

When I received my diagnosis, I had just turned fifteen. Everything around me just kind of crumbled. It had only been two years since our mom's car crash. And it felt like, at that moment, I had received a death sentence. Tony and my dad tried to be there for me as much as they possibly could, but I could tell their world was crumbling, too. So I put on a brave face and acted like everything was okay. Like everything is okay. At least for the most part.

Tony rubs my back. "What do you need?"

"The hospital," I snap.

Weight shifts from my mattress. Tony walks out of my room, probably to get dressed. After a few minutes, he returns and picks me up from my bed. The world feels hazy around me as he carries me out the door and to his car. I feel like I'm in space.

The car starts. The pain intensifies. And my world goes out. Complete darkness.

When I come to, I wake to bright lights, soft beeps from the monitors, an IV hooked up to my arm. The pain is no longer there.

"Hey, Gemma," Dr. Henshaw says. She smiles and squeezes my shoulder. "Welcome back."

I smile lazily.

Dr. Henshaw has been my oncologist since last year. She specializes more specifically in Hodgkin's lymphoma, especially in adolescents.

"How long was I out?" I ask. Am I...slurring?

Tony laughs and sits up straight in his seat. "Only a couple of hours. They ran some tests. They're hoping to get you into a CT scan within the next hour."

Dr. Henshaw removes her white plastic gloves with a slight smirk. "I wasn't aware your brother was training to be a doctor."

Tony rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat with a smile. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. When you've been here as often as I have, you pick up on the lingo and the process pretty quickly."

"Your brother is right though. So far your levels look okay, which is what we like to see. But just to cover all the bases, we just want to get you in for a scan."

I nod and try to sit up in my bed. My head feels like it's about to roll to the side, but it doesn't. "Why was my stomach hurting so much?"

"We'll have to wait until we get the scan results, but I would chalk it up to intense stomach cramping." She looks at the monitor before focusing her attention back on me. "Or you could have indigestion. It could be a number of things, but I like to stay on the positive side and think it was minor. You were right to come in though. We usually advise our patients to avoid playing what we call 'health roulette.'"

I nod and fold my hands in my lap. We made the right call.

"Have you been under any unnecessary stress recently?" Dr. Henshaw asks, flipping through my medical chart. "It looks like you were here for your last check-up..." Her eyebrows furrow together. I swear, her eyes grew at least two inches larger. "Wednesday?"

She looks to Tony this time. "Has anything changed within the last two days?"

Tony shakes his head and stands up. "She's been sticking with her diet."

"I'm supposed to be tutoring someone," I say.

Tony laughs a little. "Ryan Davis—"

My heart monitor picks up slightly. I look out the window near my hospital bed.

"Sounds like something that could cause stress," Dr. Henshaw says. "Especially when there's some interest there." A ghost of a smile is present on her lips.

"There's no interest," I say a little too quickly. I worry my heart monitor will give any...false pretenses.

"Oh, and here best friend is in love with her," Tony pipes in comically.

"He is not!" I yell. "We're just...really great friends, okay?"

Dr. Henshaw laughs and tucks my chart under her arm. "Well, whatever the case is, you need to be wary of your stress levels. Too much stress, or even the wrong kind of stress, could cause a flare with your already compromised immune system."

"Will do," Tony says.

Dr. Henshaw nods and makes her way to the door. "We'll have someone bring you to CT shortly, Gemma. But, for now, just relax."

"Dr. Henshaw?" I ask before she leaves my room. She stops and turns to me, smiling brightly. "Do you think it would still be okay to attend classes once I'm out of here?"

She chuckles and nods. "If the tests come back clear, you are free to do whatever you please."

I nod and relax back in my bed. Dr. Henshaw walks out, handing my chart to one of the nurses.

"You really want to go to school?" Tony asks. He sits back down in his seat.

"I know it sounds silly, but I rarely miss school and I haven't told anyone about my..." I stop. "My, um, illness."

"You can say the word, Gemma. It isn't a bad word."

I shake my head and look back out the window. The morning sun shines through the glass, warming the slightly chilled room.

"Alright. Well, Dad told me to call back when we got some news. He couldn't get away from work. But when you were out, he said we could order whatever you wanted for dinner."

I smile slightly and nod. My eyes never leave the window to the outside world.

Tony leaves the room to make a call. A moment later, my phone rings on the bedside table. I pick it up. My heart flutters when I see who it is. I answer the call and slowly bring my cell phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gee," Nathan says. Voices echo in the background. He must be walking to his next class. "Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Sorry. I overslept," I lie. "I was creating a study guide for Ryan and I guess lost track of time. I woke up crazy late."

"Oh," he says. "I guess you didn't go to bed until really late then."

"Yeah," I say breathlessly. "I have to get going. I'll be in soon, okay?"

I hang up before Nathan has the chance to say anything. My stomach lurches. I rush to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet. Nothing comes up as I gasp over the seat.

After a couple of minutes, I sit with my back against the wall. My blonde hair sticks to my forehead, matted down with sweat.

"Gee?" Tony asks, walking into the room. "Where are you?"

"In here," I say hoarsely.

He walks into the bathroom, his face paling when he sees me sitting on the floor. "What happened? Are you having more pain? Are you sick?"

I shake my head and try to get up. After stumbling, Tony grabs my arm and leads me back to the bed. He pushes my IV stand back to my bedside and pulls the white covers over me.

"I lied to him," I say after taking a shaky breath. "Nathan called asking where I was, and I lied to him. I told him I overslept." Tears prick at my eyes as I look at my older brother. Faint circles sit under his eyes. "He's going to know I'm lying."

Tony sits down on my bed and grabs my hand. It feels weird. He hasn't done this since my diagnosis.

"Listen, Gee, it'll be okay. But, you know you have to tell him, right?"

I nod as a tear escapes and slides down my cheek.

"He's your best friend."

"I know."

---

Several hours later, I'm discharged. My CT scan came up clear. Nothing has spread. We chalked my episode up to stress. Dr. Henshaw told me I should lighten my load. That it would help relieve stress. But I don't think it would. It would only make it worse.

I walk into Windsor High just in time for the last bell to ring. Nathan looks up at me, eyebrows furrowed together.

"Where were you?" he whispers when I pass him.

I sit down in my seat and open my backpack. "Later."

"Good afternoon," Mrs. White says. She sets a stack of papers on her desk. "While your Unit 2 test is still postponed, I decided it would be beneficial to have a practice test. It has only been a couple of days since I assigned tutors, so I don't expect everyone to have gone over the material yet."

She walks out from behind her desk and starts to hand out papers.

"Everyone will be taking this practice test. Once you're done, tutors will come up and grab the answer key. Whenever you have the time, meet with your peers to go over the answers and help explain any questions they got wrong. Once you are done with the test, you are free to leave early."

Nathan turns around and hands me the last test. I take a deep breath and look at the first question. What is a chemical reaction?

I glance over at Ryan. His head rests on his hand. He taps his pencil on the paper. I look back down at my test and start checking off answers.