twelve | white tulips
I remember kissing Rehan. The boy who writes poetry about me and notices everything that makes me happy. I remember how I felt so much alive when he held me. Then I remember the rain, the hurtful eyes of my best friend. I remember saying sorry to her, but I don't want to remember what she said.
You hurt me, Ari.
I wake up in a hospital room.
There's a device attached on my index finger and a monitor beeping beside my head. My hand feels sore due to the IV channel and I feel drowsy.
Everything seems really distant, and my entire body hurts and I keep thinking how long I've been here? I have a dull headache and my vision seems blurry. Even my fingers hurt and my throat feels like sandpaper. Is it happening? Am I finally close to my end? But I still need to make amends. There are people I hurt and I don't want their last memory of me to be a narcissistic friend.
Shit. I groan in pain and suddenly feel too damn stupid when ma and papa rushes to my side. Ma is crying and papa looks sleep deprived.
"Ma, no crying, remember?" I say. My voice comes off gibberish, really dry and I sound like someone else entirely.
The first dose of relief comes when she wipes her face and reaches over to hold my face with her warm hands. I nuzzle my face in her palm and heave a breath.
"I'm still here, Ma." I move my gaze from her to papa. "Just don't cry, okay?"
"We were so afraid." She sobbed, her hair sticking out of her bun and hanging on the side of her face. She looks miserable and I don't like her looking like this.
I had always worried about this part. The part where I'd be slowly leaving behind the people I love and watch them suffer. The worst part is where I would want to see them happy but deep down knowing that even if they put up a brave face and bright smiles in front of me, they'd be fucking sad from the inside. Maybe, none of this is real and all of it is happening in my head. Maybe, I'm reading one of those romance books with sad endings. But it is happening. It is. It did seem like a bad dream. But it is happening. And it fucking hurts.
"When can I go home?" I ask.
That's when my anxiety escalates. My parents share a silent look and I can guess I'm not getting a very hopeful answer. I wonder how I missed this look when I first got diagnosed with cancer. I remember asking my mother about why I had to go through so many MRI's and CT Scans and all they did was share the same hopeless look they are sharing now. Ma pushes a button to lift my bed, so I'm in a more comfortable position. "We'll take you home soon. But for now I want you to take some rest and stop worrying about everything else."
"What about school? I have my pre-board exams starting next week. I need-"
"Ari, please." My mother's voice sounds desperate. "For once acknowledge that you're sick. You need to take it easy on yourself. School is the last thing you should worry about."
"Ma," I place my hand over hers. I know she is anxious and breaking apart each passing day with the fear of losing her only child. No matter how much we try to dilute the topic of 'loss' in our conversation and pretend there's nothing to lose at the end, we know that's not true. One of these days we all three need to join in a group hug and cry out our hopelessness. That day has not yet arrived, but I wonder if I will be able to cry out the feelings inside me ever. Is this the part where I need to join a cancer support group? Or maybe I should get a shrink.
"I was afraid you'd never wake up." She just sobs into my father's shoulder. "I'm always afraid that I'd wake up in the morning and you wouldn't be there. You've no idea, Ari."
"We agreed we'd never have this conversation."
She ignores my reminder. "I'll get the nurse." My mother, she always tries to put up this brave face even when she is breaking apart. And at this moment, I feel like she is. I have only ever seen her like this when I'm on a hospital bed and she isn't the one to take care of me. The sight of her in so much pain because me clenches my heart and I just can't keep looking at her.
I look around the room and wonder who got the white tulips for me. My parents aren't the type to bring you flowers.
I turn at my father as he hands me a glass of water. "The flowers," I say. "Who got me flowers?"
He takes the glass from me and smiles looking at the tulips. "Aarya. She has been worried sick about you."
"Aarya came to visit me?" I ask, my blood spike with hope. Maybe, I still have a chance to save our friendship. Even though I hurt her, she got me my favorite flowers. She has been here with me the whole time.
"Yes," he says. "And the boy too."
The boy.
Rehan was here too. I want to ask papa about him but stop myself. I'm afraid. I don't know why...My heart starts up its violent thudding. My throat turns dry and I just can't talk or breathe and then it all comes in front of my eyes. The images of Rehan holding the back of my head flashes in my head. I can't catch my breath as my lips tingle with the sensation of the kiss we shared, and I'm afraid that it has ruined my friendship with Aarya. I'm afraid that I have taken his chance of escaping the heartbreak. How could I let myself be so selfish?
What was I thinking when I gave in to his charms? Maybe I wanted to taste the love off of his mouth just once and maybe Rehan truly had the taste of love, but there's this guilt that lives in me. I can feel this awful thing going on in my heart, a choice I know I'm too incapable of taking when my brain is literally on the verge of shutting down any moment.
However, the choice needs to be made.
The nurse comes in and stands next to me, examining my vitals. She has a South Indian accent. "Let me check your blood pressure, Ariha," she says, pushing a button on the monitor and giving me a beautiful smile. At this point, I'm used to the routine, the smell of the anesthetic inside my lungs and the white washed ceiling of the hospital wards. I just close my eyes and let her do her thing. "Rehan! Aarya!" I hear their names in my head but my tongue still can't call their names out loud. Why is it so difficult to choose between friendship and love... Now there's no place for love when death is just around the corner.
"The boy was here the whole time until your consciousness came back." My mother says, her face has a gloomy shade but she tries to break into a normal conversation. "It looked like he wanted to swap places with you. He was suffering a lot, standing outside your ward like he's-"
"They don't know, right?" I whisper.
My mother shakes her head. "But they deserve to know."
"I hate looking at people's sad faces when they know about my cancer." I close my eyes. "I will tell them."
It's not the only reason I'm hiding the truth though. Maybe, I'm trying to detach myself from them so when I leave there will be less heartaches. Is that even possible? Am I being delusional?
I hear my father's voice. "You should, Ari." He reaches over and squeezes my hand. He is a man of less words but when he says something it means he's serious about it. "I'll tell them you're fully awake now and you tell them why you're here."
Can I finally tell them? Will they understand why I needed to hide it from them?
I just keep staring at his back as he leaves the room.
"Aarya is here?" I ask my mother. "And Rehan?"
"They haven't left. They're here for the last forty-six hours– waiting for you to wake up."
"That's how long I've been gone?"
"You gave us a good scare," the nurse gives me a pill and waits for me to gulp it down. She smiles from the door. "Your friends love you. You shouldn't hide it from them."
How am I going to tell Aarya? How'll Rehan feel if I tell him? Do I want to tell him or see him?
I can't.
"Ma, I don't want to see Rehan." I squeeze my mother's hand and plead with my eyes. "I just don't–please, Ma."
My mother just keeps staring at me.
"You were awake a few times and you mumbled his name. He stayed up all night beside your bed. He wouldn't leave even when we were here. He's a very stubborn boy, Ari."
I smile. "He might've a teeny tiny crush on me."
"It's a much stronger emotion than just a teenage crush," she whispers. "I will let the boy know you want to be alone for now, okay?"
I give her a weak nod, suddenly feeling the pang of sadness creeping into my heart. Do I really not want to see him?
"I love you, Ari." Ma whispers, kissing my forehead. "You know I love you the most, right? Don't leave me just yet."
"I'm still here, Ma." I've been saying this to her more often as if it can miraculously cover up the truth of my death. I feel like crying but I hate it when my mother cries over my sickness. So, I put up a smile and keep it on till she leaves the room.
***
Aarya walks into the room with my father. My eyes linger for a second behind them, almost expecting the boy. I curse inside my head and feel guilty when my eyes capture Aarya standing beside my bed. She looks as sleep deprived as my parents.
We look at each other and smile. I hurt her and she is still here. "Hi," she says.
"Hey," I say.
"I got you flowers," she points at the tulips.
"It's fucking romantic, A." My voice feels heavy.
"You scared me." She says. "I didn't know my words could cause such damage."
"You look like you just attended a funeral." I try humor but bite my tongue when she glares at me.
She hits my shoulder. "Don't talk shit, Ari or I'll regret talking to you again."
We just look at each other. "Are you still mad at me? I didn't want to hurt you, A. I didn't-"
"I'm just glad you woke up."
"I'm glad to see you here."
She starts crying. Aarya has a hint of what I'm about to tell her. "You've been keeping a secret from me, Ari. I'm your best friend. Best friends don't keep secrets."
"I didn't want to keep it from you."
Aarya wipes her tears and looks into my eyes. "On a scale of one to ten, tell me how bad it is."
"A," I whisper.
"Shit." She curses and looks away. "Just tell me already, Ari. I swear, I won't cry."
I reach for her hand and lace our fingers something we used to do when we were kids and did something scary. We haven't done it in a long time and miss it. And holding her hand like that gives me the courage to finally speak out the unspeakable. I look over at my father and he nods at me, giving me that extra push I need. There is no more hiding away from the inevitable. She deserves to know.
"I'm going to die, A." I breathe out a stuttered sob. "I've got fucking cancer."
***
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Thank you so much for reading this story.
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