Adelaide

The drive down to Vancouver the next day with my mom goes fine. I would have gone with Justin on this long ride, but Dad asked me to stay with Mom – he didn't feel comfortable about her driving on her own because the road conditions for mountain passes can change in the blink of an eye.

Okay, I lied. The drive is only about four hours. Which wouldn't usually be too long in my books. I, however, am exhausted from last night. After everyone left and Helene went to bed, Justin, Chris, and I stayed up into the later hours of the night eating cold pizza and playing cards. I didn't get home until about two-in-the-morning. Good thing I packed before leaving for Justin's house last night.

I'm happy with how everything went. Justin's a bit of an introvert, so I was a little scared that he might reject Sophia's idea and be upset. Thankfully, he proved me wrong. From what I got, he had a great time.

Anyway, the fun from last night, though it hasn't been forgotten, has now faded and reality has set in as Justin and I walk hand-in-hand behind our moms and Chris. I honestly don't know why my mom is at BC Children's Hospital with us, but I have this strong feeling it's because Helene asked her. Since the truth came out, Mom and Helene have gotten really close and I know Helene expressed how hard it was to see her son go through this on her own because, well, Mom told me. Which I totally understand. I can't imagine how hard it would be for my mom if Alex, Jake, or I went through something like this.

BC Children's Hospital is like any other hospital, minus the decorations. The usual coldness a normal hospital has has been replaced with pastel colours and childish décor. I want to say it comforts me, but it doesn't. The potent rubbing alcohol smell is too strong for my nose, making me feel like I just snorted some hand sanitizer. Also, people, other than the nurses, rarely smile.

I think I'm starting to understand why Dad hates hospitals so much.

"How are you doing?" I ask Justin as we walk to where his appointment is scheduled. His palms are sweating and he keeps looking around like he's waiting for a clown to jump out at him. Also, his chest is rising and falling quickly.

But even through all the obvious evidence that he's having a hard time, he still manages to shrug. "Better than the first time," he replies after swallowing thickly. "It's hard for me to set foot in this place again after knowing they failed the first time, but it's something I need to do."

I give his hand a comforting squeeze as we step through the door Chris is holding open for us. "I'm here for you," is all I say.

Justin gives me a weak smile and nods his head.

Turns out, we only have to sit in the waiting room for five minutes before we're called in to meet with the team.

My own palms start sweating as we head deeper into the hospital. Okay, I can seriously understand why Dad hates them. Where are the windows? How can people breathe properly when the air seems so saturated? And who in the hell puts pictures of clowns up on the wall? Those things scare most kids! Including me!

"Addie?" Justin asks, reaching up to cup my face. "You good?"

I blink, realizing I've stopped walking. Oh. I didn't know I had. I look at my boyfriend. "Yeah," I reply breathlessly. "I just...I think I'm starting to understand why Dad hates hospitals. It's kind of stuffy in here."

"Is it bad that I like that I'm not the only one suffering from the lack of windows?" he laughs.

Just like that, the anxiety I'm battling fades away. Justin's having a hard time, too. That means I'm not alone in this. Also, I think about the love story between my parents. Even though Dad was terrified of going into the hospital while Mom was in a coma, he still did. He faced his fear because he wanted to be with the person he loved.

Which is exactly what I want to do.

"No," I reply, shaking my head. "That helps me, actually. Let's go."

We have to jog to catch up with the rest of the crew and we make it before anyone has to question where we are. When we step into the room, Mom gives me a sympathetic look and nods her head. I give her a weak smile. I'm doing the best I can to stay with Justin and not lose myself to a panic attack.

Justin and I find our places at the large desk. I try to get Helene to sit down beside her son since there are only two chairs, but she refuses and insists that I sit beside Justin. I give up because I know I'm not going to win this argument.

When the seating and standing arrangements are settled, I take in our surroundings. The room seems like it's made for only five people, making me feel like a sardine stuffed into a can. On the opposite side of the desk sit three people. Doctors, I think. Or maybe nurses. Or...what was the word Justin used to describe one of them? A neurologist?

I try to pick out which one would be the neurologist, but it's hopeless. I've never actually met a neurologist before.

"I can see we have two new people. Are they family members?" the man with half-moon glasses asks.

"No, Dr. Casaceli," replies Helene. "This is my friend, Mirabel Levesque and her daughter Adelaide."

Dr. Casaceli eyes me carefully. "So you are the one who questioned the cause of Justin's seizures."

I hate how he says it as a statement. I hate his tone of voice – he's impassive and rude-sounding. Like, what did I ever do to him? I straighten my posture and lift my chin. "Yes," I reply, keeping my voice strong. "Yes, I did. That's what happens when you care about someone – you want to help in any way you can. My boyfriend deserves another chance at getting the life he deserves."

Behind me, Mom clears her throat. Yes, maybe that was a jab at them for messing up and stealing away a large portion of Justin's life, but do I care? Nope. They deserve it. These people got these jobs for a reason, right?

And Justin seems to agree because his hand finds mine and he gives it a tight, warming squeeze.

After that, Dr. Casaceli doesn't acknowledge me again.

I must have struck a nerve or something. Who knows?

So I just listen in on everything that's happening, absorbing as much information as I can. On February twenty-eighth at eight o'clock in the morning, Justin will be admitted into the hospital for pre-surgery stuff such as anaesthetics, changing into a hospital gown, having his weight and height taken, and that kind of stuff.

Next, they go into great detail about how much different the surgery is going to be compared to the first one. They use all kinds of terms, such as left temporal lobe for the location, but I get the main point: they're basically going to scrape the whole first layer of his brain away in the left temporal lobe area just to be sure no abnormal tissue grows back. They say they haven't decided on what type of stitches they're going to use to close up the incision site, but that they're leaning toward ones that need to be taken out by a doctor later on. Justin and I both cringe, and even Chris makes a noise that reminds me of a shudder. I can't imagine getting stitches pulled out from your head. Yuck. It makes my skin crawl. I hope they change their minds and decide to use the dissolvable ones instead.

Next, the possible complications are listed. I try to erase these from my mind. But I fail. With each one that's listed, my stomach drops further, getting closer and closer to the ground each time. It's extremely scary to think that there is the slightest chance something could go wrong and he could end up dying.

Finally, papers need to be signed.

And it's when these papers come out that another reason Mom is here is revealed. She deals with a lot of this stuff at KGH back home, so it's only natural for her to make sure everything is good.

The silence is tense while she reads the papers thoroughly. And while she's doing that, Justin leans over and mutters, "If your mom keeps mentally critiquing those papers, I think the vein in Casaceli's neck is going to pop."

I glance at Dr. Casaceli. Sure enough, the vein in his neck looks like it has a pulse of its own. I giggle, trying to cover it up with a cough. But I clearly fail because I get the stink eye from all three medical team members sitting on the opposite side of the desk.

Mom finally nods her head and passes the papers over to Helene. "They're good, Helene. You can sign them."

And even though my jab was pretty good, it doesn't compare to Mom's glare. It's like snow: beautiful and cold as ice. It's the glare that always scares Dad. And me and the boys, for that matter.

Way to go, Mom!

These people deserve it. I can't believe they failed Justin. Lucky for them, he's strong enough to give them another chance. He shouldn't be thanking them, they should be thanking him. On top of that, they can't blame Helene for being wary about signing papers here. It's their own fault that the McCallister family doesn't trust them.

Once the papers are filled out, we're free to go for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, we have to come back here so Justin can do a couple of tests, but they're early in the morning. So we should have some time to explore the streets of Vancouver for the afternoon and evening. The day after, though...I'm not going to think about it right now.

"Well," I say as we step into the main hallway, "that went well."

Because we've fallen behind again, Justin stops and turns to me, giving me a couple light shoves until my back is pressed against the wall of the hospital. He looks me directly in the eye, his blue eyes full of fire.

"I love you so much, Addie," he whispers.

He kisses me before I can say anything to him. It's a teasing kiss that involves a lot of nipping at my bottom lip until I get the hint and part my lips, allowing his tongue to explore my mouth.

I kiss him back with just as much intensity. This is probably one of the last times we'll be able to do this for the next few months. Might as well do it while we still can.

I plunge my fingers into his hair, loving how soft it is against my fingertips. His mouth tastes like the spearmint gum he was chewing before the appointment.

I'm totally, utterly lost in this kiss.

Which is why a small whimper sneaks out of my mouth when he pulls away.

Justin presses his forehead against mine. "We better get going."

"Yes," I reply breathlessly, my cheeks as warm as the rest of my body. I reach down and take his hand. "Let's go."

As we stroll through the hospital to the entrance we came through, the anxiety about the upcoming date begins to build up inside me again. The meeting with the team made it seem so much more real than before. Especially when they listed the complications that could possibly happen. It's scary. I wish Justin didn't have to go through with this. He's strong enough, but he doesn't deserve it.

I glance at Justin.

He's chewing on his thumbnail, staring ahead as if he's completely lost in thought. There's fear in his eyes, too.

That's when I begin to wonder if that kiss was for more than just some post-surgery precautions.