I toyed nervously with my hoodie string,  wrapping it carefully around my finger.  Cara stares at me with her big greenish gray eyes,  waiting for my response. 

"I'm sorry...  I didn't know... " I say staring at her red 'hair' and beanie.

"Well now you do,  and now your going to tell everyone. " She states angrily.  I scoot closer to her slowly.

"No I won't,  I swear.  We'll get through this together Cara." She smiles and hugs me firmly. I stroke her beautiful hair and hold her tightly.

"Thank you... " We remain like that for a while,  before the final bell rings,  dismissing us from hell.  She grabs my hand at her side,  and I intertwine our fingers.  Our hands sway back and forth as we walk,  earning stares from neighboring peers.

"Can I ask you something? " I ask as we sit down to face each other.
"Mhm."

"Why didn't you want to tell me in the first place? " I respond rubbing her knee.

"Because that's weird to be all like 'I'm Cara Luis and I have cancer,  I might die but it's okay',  no,  thats so awkward. " I shrug,  she was right. I wouldn't walk up to someone and tell them about my scars on my wrist,  or the pencil sharpener blade that glistened,  hidden carefully in my phone case.  It's not normal,  and can change the opinions of people about you.

"Hey...  Want to come over? " She asks as the bus slows to a stop on front of a tall apartment building.  I nod,  my parents hit me constantly and I could use a break. "Okay,  watch your language though,  my father is protective over me and my aunt is extremely religious. " I manage a nod as she begins climbing up the steps.  "Oh,  and my mother is deaf,  so she can't hear you... " She shoves the golden key into the door handle and turns it sideways. Mr. Louis was standing in the doorway,  to greet Cara with a big hug.

"Hi daddy. " She Coos sweetly,  picking up a baby no older than ten months.

"Oh,  dad,  this is Jonah.  Can he stay for dinner? "Mr. Louis looks me up and down carefully.

" Oh,  I don't want to be trouble..." Cara gives me evil eye as she puts the boy down and hooks up to my elbow.

"Too bad.  Please daddy? " He shrugs,  reaching out to shake my hand.

"Sure,  son,  you hurt her and you won't live to see tomorrow,  understood? " I nod and gulp nervously,  he meant business. "I hope you like chilly spaghetti,  it's cooking. "

"Thank you sir,  sounds wonderful. " He glares ate carefully,  before turning to walk away.

"Told you... " I follow Cara to her room,  that was covered in posters of pictures she's drawn,  bands,  and concert tickets. Her bed was covered with a My Chemical Romance throw blanket and a Sleeping With Sirens pillow case,  to add the the mix of bands,  there was a Falling in Reverse lamp shade on the night stand.  The room was dark,  but filled with life.  Cara walks over to the black curtains and draws them open,  allowing the room to come to life. I notice three pairs of converse peeking out from under her bed,  a wig stand on her vanity,  along with some makeup and different colored beanies.  It was overall an interesting room.

"Do you mind? " She asks nervously pointing to her wig.

"Go ahead. " She sighs with relief and pulls off the beanie and wig,  revealing her bare head.  She didn't seem any different to me,  just the same old Cara.

"Thanks...  I hate wearing the wig,  but I also hate being called Caillou. " She chuckles,  elbowing me slightly.

"Don't worry about them,  they don't even know what their talking about. " She grasps my hand tightly,  sitting on the edge of her bed.

"You know...  My whole life I've been told not to care what others think.  But,  if you don't care about them,  how can you improve? If a person says you talk to much,  then it's probably a good idea to talk less,  or if someone says you look awful with red hair,  then dye it another color.  It's simple. " She says referring to herself.  "My mother told me I had beautiful hair,  it was long,  and naturally black.  I didn't have to use a straightener,  for it was naturally straight.  And I didn't have to spend hours doing it,  I just woke up and ran a brush through it.  Then,  when I was diagnosed with cancer last year,  it began falling out from the therapy,  so I bought a wig,  And,  my assortment of beanies. They remind me that I'm different,  and they also hide the lines from where the wig doesn't fit quite right. " The moment draws put to a long silence before I feel a single,  wet drop of water splash onto my hand.