Chapter Two

    Grayson

    “No, Meadow,” I object, taking her small hand in mine. I squeeze it tightly and try to pull her backwards, toward me. “It’s dangerous, you know that.”

      It’s only been a short time but already I feel like I need to be more careful with Meadow. She only has a short time left – which pains me to even think – and I don’t want it to get any shorter.

       The front lights of the train flash as they head towards us, the siren blaring as it comes through town on the curve of the tracks. It sounds for a second time, this one louder.

      “It’s never been a problem before,” Meadow retorts, standing her ground. She plants her feet on the dirt and vows not to move. “Besides, it’s a rush.”

      “I’m not letting you risk your life to be an adrenaline junkie-“

      Meadow cuts me off. “We’ll stand farther back than usual, okay?” Her eyes are pleading and I feel my hand grow limp around hers. I haven’t said yes yet but she already knows that she’s won. Turning towards the tracks, she pulls me up beside her and keeps her hand in mine. My shoulders hunch up to brace myself from the wind but no matter how many times Meadow tries to give me my jacket, I refuse.

      “Why do you like to do this so much?” I wonder. The train is getting closer and closer by the second and I can feel it rumble the ground underneath our feet.

      “You were right when you said it’s a rush, but it’s not about adrenaline,” she explains, firmly planting herself on the ground as the trail nears. I can hear the individual wheels roar with each movement. “Just the way it goes speeding past us and we’re the only ones here to witness it. It’s like something in the-“ she pauses as it reaches us. It blows past and conductor sounds the warning, making her yelp.

      I tense immediately, worry instantly seeping into me. Meadow is laughing uncontrollably, almost doubling over as she drops my hand, placing her own on her knees.

      “It’s like something in the air shifts,” she finishes, explaining the feeling we’re experiencing now. “I know it sounds silly,” she shouts over the train, “but if I could live my entire life standing right here, right now, I would.”

      My expression hardens. If she could. Normally, this would be a simple statement, nothing to overanalyze. But now, I can’t stand to hear those words. Even if it was possible, Meadow could never live her entire life beside these train tracks, because she can never live her entire life.

      Her lips part in shock of what she slipped out so carelessly. Really I should be the one watching my words around her, but because she’s so calm about it, it’s like our roles are reversed.

      “Oh, Grayson,” she whispers. Ignoring the train, she turns to me with sympathetic eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I just said that.”

      For the third time this night, I hug her. My hands tremble on the small of her back while I rest my chin on the top of her head. I don’t know what to think, do or say. Everything that can be controlled feels like it’s been ripped from my fingertips.

      “It’s okay, Meadow,” I murmur. I hold back tears. “It’s okay.”

      It certainly isn’t but we both already know that. Meadow is dying and she’s okay with that. The most honest thing I can ever feel is that I’m happy she is okay with leaving this world. But as easy as it seems for her, it’s so hard for me. I’m the one stuck here, dealing with the loss while she gets to go on to do greater things.

      I’m losing my best friend and there’s nothing I can do about it.

      Again, we go through another, complete breakdown and it’s not just me. When I get upset, Meadow does too. She’s never been one to cry or be sad, but as soon as my composure breaks, hers does too. I feel bad for making her feel this way, but I can’t hold in my emotions.

      When we’re both done having our hearts ripped apart, Meadow tries to make things normal again. Looking for a distraction, she pulls away from me.

      “Want to sleep over tonight?” She suggests. “We can stay in the basement and watch The O.C all night.”

      “Haven’t we watched that five times through already?” I’m questioning her but I’m so relieved that I’m sure it’s written all over my face.

      “Sixth time is the best.” Meadow grabs my hand and starts to pull me along down the hill. “Come on.”

      The wind is less harsh on the flat ground of the suburbs. It still blows my hair into my eyes but I ignore the urge to flip it away. All through elementary school Meadow called me out on it and from then on I vowed to never do it in front of her, no matter how much it bugged me.

      “Stick close to me,” I tell her, making sure I’m on the inside of the road. We’ve had more than one close encounter with an impaired or just plain stupid driver. If she’s walking on my left then I know if a car were to veer off the road towards us, I would get hit and she would be safe. She will always be safe.

      “You need to stop worrying so much,” she whispers, her large, doe eyes flickering up to me for a brief moment. Light from a source I’m not aware of casts a reflection in her eyes before she turns them away.

      “But worrying is my best sport,” I object, gently bumping her with my shoulder. She barely stumbles but pretends to be offended nonetheless.

      “You need to enjoy each moment for what it’s worth.” She sticks out her bottom lip in a mock frown before bumping me back. I don’t even move and she pouts.

      “Okay.” I sling my arm around her shoulders and tug her into me. “Well, I’m enjoying this moment right now. Is this good enough for you?”

      Meadow grins. “The best.”

      With the autumn chill wavering in the air almost everyone has taken shelter either in their homes or somewhere else. In the summer walking even as early as it is now around here isn’t safe most of the time.

      Meadow tells me to wait outside as she tip toes into her house. She forced me to put my jacket on as she closes the door behind her. Mentally, she’s walking on eggshells towards her parents but physically, it really does look like she is trying not to break the delicate, white shells.

      I hear the sound of her father raise his voice but I can’t make out the words. Not long after a door is slammed, rattling the cheap metal that holds the screen in to the outer door. Moments later, Meadow returns.

      “Come on in,” she whispers. Despite her voice being so low, she looks completely unfazed by whatever just happened. I don’t know her secret to keeping everything okay all the time, but she should bottle it up and sell it. She would make millions.

      “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we lived there?” Meadow asks a while later, staring at the TV that’s playing the show she’s been obsessed with for years. We’re lying on the floor with my back pressed against the beige couch. Meadow rests her head on my stomach as if I’m a human pillow, not complaining when her head rises up and down from my breathing.

      “Nope,” I reply honestly.

      Meadow turns her head to look up at me, her eyes wide. “Why not?”

      My shoulders rise up and fall. “I don’t think it would be any different than now.”

      A small smile appears on her lips, telling me she’s satisfied with my answer. “I’ve never thought of it that way. I think you may be right.”

      I smile back and she snuggles her head into my torso, the dip between my chest and stomach. She watches the TV for a short while but I think I ruined the series for her. By the time the next episode starts, the lights from the screen are dancing across her closed eyelashes.

      I don’t know how I’ll be able to live without moments like these. I don’t think the real impact of the situation has hit me yet though. If it had, and I’m not in really in shock, I think the way I’m acting would be different.

      The girl I’ve known since the third grade who befriended me by giving me half of her sandwich the day my mom forgot to pack mine. The girl who would point out things about me that I never considered before. The girl who would puddle-jump every time it rained for fun. The girl who always would smile. The girl who would do the strangest things that made her happy. The girl who loves life so much that she doesn’t deserve to lose hers.

      I don’t realize I’m crying until I glance at the screen and see that it’s a blur of colours. I can’t even tell who’s who or hear the sound anymore because I’m so lost in my thoughts.

      How can this happen? Meadow doesn’t deserve this. She deserves to live more than anyone I know. She’s the girl who brings light into everyone else’s darkness. How can she be dying? How can she leave me?

      “Grayson?” Meadow’s murmur almost sounds too distant to hear. I don’t dare look at her; I don’t dare let her see my tears.

      My expression is cold despite my silent sobbing as I stare straight ahead at the wall. I glare at it like it’s the one who did this to Meadow; to me. I blame it for everything because I have no one to blame.

      “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. Out of the corner of my eye I see her arm reach up and feel the brush of her fingers. They steal my tears away but her hand still lingers, touching my cheek.

      I desperately want to tell her that she has no reason to be sorry. None of this is her fault or will ever be something she intentionally did. It’s like she’s blaming herself for having a bad heart.

      Regardless of how much I want to whisper, say and scream this to her all at once, I can’t find the words. In fact, I can’t find any words at all.

      Instead, I keep my eyes fixed on the wall and pay attention to the brush of Meadow’s skin on my cheek. I don’t know how many more of these moments I’ll have left.

      Is this how I’ll spend our final days together? Will I be counting down the moments, hugs, and brushes of skin until I no longer can live these things but in memories?

      “Grayson.” Meadow tries to meet my eyes but I refuse to move my gaze from the wall. “It’s going to be okay.”

      My words come out harsher than planned. “No, it’s not.”

      Nothing is ever going to be okay if I don’t have her.