"Door stays open Mac," my mom yells up the stairs after us

I push Jack into my room and crack the door, I push him onto my bed and lay on top of him.

"I said my parents would love you," I say as his hands grab my waist. "After all, I love you, Jackson. You don't have to say it back, don't worry. I just need you to know I'm not going anywhere, I'm always going to be here for you. I'm not going to leave you."

"Malcolm," he whispers and kisses me. "Malcolm," he says against my lips. "What am I going to do with you?"

"The smartest thing I've ever done is say yes to you."

"I meant everything I said earlier," he grabs my face, kisses my nose, and smiles. "You have been amazing to me, I honestly don't deserve you. You've changed me, Mac, you make me feel like a good person."

I inch forward and kiss him, slowly, softly, not wanting to separate myself from him.

"I love you, Jack. But I don't take credit for your change. You are the one that chose to change. You make me forget everything. You make me forget my past, you make me forget I'm sick, you make me forget my worries, you make me forget that life just sucks. You make me happy," I lay my head on his chest.

I heard his heart stutter, and then after a few seconds he asked "What do you mean you're sick?"

"Shit," I mumbled. "Ignore it, I didnt mean it."

He hoists me up and makes me sit on his lap, he sits up, our chests together, foreheads an inch apart. His arms wrap around my waist, and he pulls my body firmly into his.

"I know something is wrong with you. Medical marijuana, that scar, that implant in your chest, the pain you are always in. You're gone from school a lot. And don't think I didnt notice all your frequent haircuts. I know that when you said you're sick, you meant it. I know you don't want to tell me yet, but I will never see you any differently. And, I will never pity you, Mac. I will always worry about you, and I will always care for you. You tell me when you're ready, but know my feelings for you won't change."

"I have cancer," I break down. I cry and grab onto his shoulders. "I have cancer, Jack."

He rocks us back and forth slowly, telling me that I'm okay, that everything will be okay. He runs circles on my back, letting me cry into his chest.

There are footsteps outside in the hall. "Mac," my father calls with a knock at the cracked door. "I have your pen," he pushes open the door and stops.

I don't move from Jack, he doesn't move either, still rocking us back and forth. Jack reached out his hand to my dad and took my pen.

"It's okay sir, I got it," Jack lays his hand on my back.

"What hap-" Dad starts but I turn to him.

"Please, just leave for a minute?"

He reluctantly does, this time shutting the door fully. I turn back to Jack and hug his neck.

"You didnt have to tell me yet, I told you to wait till you were ready."

"I want to, I trust you."

He pecks my lips. "What type of cancer?"

"Osteoblastic Sarcoma, osteosarcoma, a bone cancer. For me it's rare, I got it on my shoulders while I had a growth spurt, and it spread to my arm. They took out my bone and nearby tissue and put in an internal prosthetic. I do chemo, which goes into my chest port, and direct high radiation. I had another CAT scan to see if my cancer spread to my other shoulder. I'm lucky if it went to my other shoulder and not my ribs by my lungs and heart. It developed quickly. There is no understanding of why it happens, or how, what causes it. I just finished my last chemo too, I rang the bell, I finally got out and now it might be back."

"What makes you think it's back?"

"Same symptoms I had a few years ago when this all started. It could all just be in my head, could just be my body being weak from chemo and radiation. We ran a test anyway to see how I'm healing, but I'm scared of the results. God, I'm so scared of the results. My doctor told me they saw spots, but they don't know if it's cancerous or just more tumors. I have tumors everywhere, but they aren't cancerous. They were all small too, nothing to worry about, the chemo would've knocked out the small ones. I just... The shoulder is different. It's been touched by more radiation, and sure they put a sheet over it, but still, it's enough to sink through and feed into it. Small amounts of radiation feed it, which is why they hit me with the heavy shit. I always felt dead after, which is why I missed so much school. The chemo goes into the thing on my chest. The chemo is what makes me lose my hair. I still go to physical therapy to learn with the prosthetic, it's like I was a baby, my muscles had to agree with the prosthetic, so I had to relearn everything. I still have a hard time with lifting stuff, sports, and whatever requires a bicep. It can cause pain. I'm always in pain, hints the medical you-know-what."

"I had no clue..."

"No one did. My friends do and their parents do, that's it. The principal knows, and my teachers, but I asked them not to say anything. I'm tired of the pity looks when people find out, I'm tired of gossip, and I'm tired of sympathy. I'm a normal person, just like everyone, and I deserve to be treated like it. I trust you, which is why I told you. Please, dont tell anyone, not your grandma, not the guys, not anyone. I like them, but it's hard getting treated like im a fragile baby when people find out."

He agreed, saying he was proud of me. Says he won't leave me, says he'll always be there for me. I grab my pen and breathe in and out the vapor, hoping this will make me more comfortable sleeping on my shoulder tonight.

"Can you stay here tonight?"

"You're parents, I dont think they'd want that."

"Fuck it, I need you here tonight. I just dropped a bomb, I feel like shit, I need you here."

"Okay, but we got school tomorrow, and from my understanding of it your grades suck."

I laugh, leaning against him for support. I feel weak.

"Yeah. You probably dont have good grades either."

"Straight A's actually."

"What? No way, I expected you to be dumb."

"Ouch, careful with your words Mac. I can help you study if you want?"

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, you might make fun of me. I'm really slow, chemo is the cause of that. It's called ''chemo brain', we become more forgetful, think slower, and a bunch of shit."

"You'll do just fine with a little help. Dont worry too much about it. Right now, you just need to rest, okay?" He lays down, dragging me with him. "You're exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, and physically. I know life has been tough on you, but you're really strong."

Having a jock tell me, a boy with cancer whos limited when it comes to physical aspects of life, that I'm strong feels weird. But, it's very comforting. That was all I needed to go to sleep, just his support.