I spent the entirety of the next day with Egan, which was something I hadn't done in a long time. He finally agreed to come over, probably because his exams were over, or his family problems had diminished slightly. I knew not to ask about how Ms. Tanakado was doing or how his little brother Maxwell over in Japan was doing, but sometimes I got so curious that I couldn't keep it in. That would usually be when Egan would get extremely pissed and leave the room. Thankfully, this time I kept my mouth shut.

"How did your bio exam go?" I asked him. We were sitting in my overheating room with fans blowing in all directions, sipping soda and licking popsicles.

Egan sighed, "I bombed it."

"Impossible. Aren't you like, a genius?"

"Bull. I'm going to community college, man."

"What about Olly Peters? He pass?"

"Of course he did. He's Olly Peters. He probably aced lunch break as well."

I laughed and took a big swig out of one of the cans. It tasted a little bit like cream soda and Pepsi mixed together, but I was so desperate to cool down that I didn't even care. Although, no matter what I attempted to do to my body, it just wouldn't cool down and the temperature in the room seemed to keep rising higher and higher.

"If it makes you feel any better," the fan blew onto my face, "I think I'm going to fail this entire year because my last exam is tomorrow and, get this, I haven't told my parents or started studying for it."

"I'll keep you in my prayers, man." Egan mumbled.

We decided to venture to the basement and waste the rest of the burning day away secluded from sunlight and chopping off zombie heads. Egan told me about his past few weeks that I didn't really get updated about. It was pretty annoying, to be completely honest, because a lot of things that he talked about were things only popular kids could complain about. For example, he said that he got invited to 3 other parties, but now he's superstitious and thinks that whenever he goes to a party someone will get hurt - like he's a bad luck charm or something crazy like that. So, he didn't go to any of them and how Olly Peters thinks that he doesn't want to be invited anymore, which is apparently not the case. He also complained about it being unfair that his school ends a week after mine, deeming me as a 'lucky private school kid'. I told him I could get special treatment because I'm blind and he said I was lucky to be that too.

I tried to think about things I could complain about too, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that I couldn't do anything about any of my problems. Except for my math exam, of course. So naturally I complained about that to Egan, and how no matter how often I study over at Marybeth's I just seem to understand less and less.

Eventually, Egan had to leave for dinner with his mom, and I was left all alone with my unfixable problems.

I went upstairs and realized that the hotness around me was calming down, but I was still sweating buckets. I quietly felt around for any garbage left in my room from the morning's soda and fan fest and found about a million popsicle sticks. I hummed some song under my breath so it wouldn't seem so silent because I didn't like that feeling. I could hear my parents murmuring outside the door but I couldn't get what they were really saying. I couldn't care less anyway.

It wasn't long before I actually cared.

That was when my mom came into the room and grabbed my hand in the way you don't want people to; her soft, small hands held mine like I was going to run away or dissolve any second. She told me that she had something to tell me. She said that it was a little bit sad and I might feel confused or mad or sad or both or every feeling ever. I got scared instead and then told her to quit treating me like I was a 6 year old kid crossing the road for the first time and spill it, please.

"Finnegan, Orenda's in the hospital again."

Strangely, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had been hearing these words very often for a while now.

"She's really not doing too well this time. Mrs. Castellano told us that she might be able to leave this time."

"What do you mean?" I hated how I did sound like a 6 year old.

"What I mean is, Orenda is very sick. And they've told her that she's to stay in the hospital for a bit longer. And there is a very small chance that she'll be leaving."

"So, she can't get better?" My chest felt tight.

"No, no, she can. It's just, it's hard."

That was when my dad came. He explained the situation to me way better than my mom did. I think it was just because my mom was so scared of making me cry. My dad didn't care as much, and for some reason, I couldn't quite put my finger on, it was a little easier not crying when my dad was talking to me.

He told me exactly what Mrs. Castellano told him. I tried not to pin anything on myself, but I did it anyway. My dad told me that after I met up with Orenda the day before, after we went on our own paths, she decided to take the long way home. My dad told me he didn't know the rest of the details, but all he knows is that Orenda walked for longer than she was supposed to do at a time. And that she went home and passed out.

I didn't say anything. We just drove to the hospital after that. My parents didn't talk to me either, which I liked. To cover up the silence in my head, I thought about the time we drove to the hospital to see Barry. I kept wishing that Orenda would get out of the hospital and go somewhere crazy like Australia to chase her dreams like Barry. But my thoughts kept going back to what she told me when we were sitting under Willow, about her red dress. I tried to not believe that she said about people never being infinite, physically or mentally, perhaps not even spiritually. People left and people forgot. It was just how life went. And a red dress did not make any difference in anybody's life except the moments that they have it on.

I sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair for the millionth time. We left right away though, because the doctors told us that now was a bad time because they were attaching Orenda to machines once again.

-----/////-----

For the next few days, I begged my parents to just drive me to the hospital and let me wait in the waiting room, just in case Orenda was feeling a bit better and I was able to go and visit her. The nurses repeatedly told me when the visiting times were, but every time I went during visiting hours, I wouldn't be allowed to see Orenda anyway because she was feeling bad. So I just waited everyday.

Egan would call me a lot, to make sure that I wasn't going to jump off a cliff or anything. I usually ignored his calls, which is very unlike me, because I find it hard to ignore people when they want to talk to me. I told him that I missed my math exam that I had been studying so hard for, and Marybeth called me after the exam to yell at me. That was when I told her that I thought my girlfriend was about to die. That made her shut up. Egan came over once just to drop off his old Walkman with all the Good Music on it, for me to listen to.

"Maybe you can let Orenda have a listen, too," Egan said softly.

I fiddled with the headphones. "I will. Thanks."

"Anytime."

Finally, one day I was sitting on the plastic chairs and the nurses let me into Orenda's room. I felt like I was in a trance because I was so scared to be near her. I was scared that she was mad at me for making her like this, even though I never directly hurt her. The nurse pat my shoulder comfortingly and guided me into the room, like the first time. This time Orenda didn't say anything to guide me over to her because she was connected to so many machines, just like Barry, the sounds of beeps encompassing us like blankets.

"Are the walls still grey?" I whispered to her quietly.

She didn't answer.

"Orenda?"

"Hi," she said quietly.

"How close to you am I?"

"Far."

"You sound pretty close, though."

"I'm joking."

I laughed. "How much can you talk right now?"

"Enough. I want to talk. I haven't in days."

"I'll talk then," I said gently.

I had a small panic because I actually had no idea what I was going to be talking about, and instead of saying something meaningful I kind of just stood there like a lump.

"Finn, I'm going to tell you something."

I eased up because a conversation was finally rolling. "Okay," I said.

"I don't think I'm leaving the hospital this time."

"I think you are."

"Can you please just listen?"

"Sorry."

"I need you to be okay with that. I keep apologizing, I know. But this is the last time." She took a shaky breath, her voice was terribly nasally and muffled. "I didn't mean any mean things I said to you. But I think I'm finally coming to terms with my life."

A pause.

"Finn?" She asked.

"You told me to not talk."

"You can now," I heard a small smile underneath her words.

"I don't understand what's happening. You're keeping so much away from me, Orenda. One moment we're dancing and the next, I don't see you for a month and when I do you're either emotionally unstable or in the hospital or both. I just feel as if I know very little about you now."

Suddenly, she started talking and I didn't even have time to prepare myself before she was done.

"We moved away in grade 6 because we needed to find treatment for my illness. I don't want to get into it because it's complicated. But we left because I was dying. We came back because I go better. We all knew it wasn't going to get fully better, though. And then for one night, just one, I thought that maybe I was invincible." She took a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry."

"Finnegan, I'm dying. That's what's happening. I don't want you to be sad, though."

I felt a small burst of anger. "You're not dying, Orenda."

"How do you know, huh?"

"I just know. By saying that, you're giving up. I didn't even know about this until ten seconds ago! You're not dying, you're just sick, and you'll get better because people get better. Like Barry. He's in Australia and he's going to write a bestseller and if he's an old man and can get better than so can you." I realized that I was very close to crying.

Orenda held my hand and we stopped talking for a while. I let my thoughts swirl for a period of time, but no matter how hard I thought I still couldn't accept what she was saying. As she held my hand, I wanted to let go just so that she would have to grab on tighter, but for some reason, I didn't let go because I had a feeling she wouldn't mind letting go either. It scared me to the core.

"The room isn't all grey anymore."

"Huh?"

"I'm answering your question in a delayed fashion."

I stood there stupidly.

"There're orange curtains on the window," she said.

Orenda shifted around in the bed and I could it squeak and creak. I sat down as well.

She kept talking, "I don't like the colour orange. Not many people do. I understand why, though, it's terribly obnoxious if you wear it wrong, or if it's used in the furniture sense. But something is different about these curtains. It's actually quite beautiful. You want to know why?"

"Okay."

"I'll tell you, then. Everyday around 8:30 in the evening the light from the sun setting shines on the window. And it reflects on the orange curtains. And for a second it doesn't look like a simple orange or even a tangerine, but rather a type of orange I've never really seen or noticed before. I like to watch the orange rays slowly disappear from the grey wall, you know, as the sun goes down. It's like the sky isn't blue but actually orange. And it looks so pretty on the bed sheets, which usually look so boring and dreadful."

She sighed, "I don't know how to describe this, Finn. I mean, it makes me feel warm. Like chamomile tea. Have you ever tried it? Or a field of wheat at sunset - a very popular movie setting - which makes me feel caressed but also free as a bird. A field of anything, really, gives me that feeling. I've always wanted to go to a field and just be one of the people in the movies, the ones that take pictures of the sunset even though it's as plain as the next." She shifted around again, "Hey, I think I know what the orange curtains are now. They look boring and a horrible interior design idea on rainy days, but once the sun shines through it's very different. It all depends on how you see it, right? A field can be endless land or it can be magical. And the colour orange can be the ugliest thing, but it can also be the most beautiful. It all depends on the existence of sun. You know, I think if I ever do get out of here, I will miss my orange curtains the most."

She was still holding my hand when she finished speaking and I think we both realized because we let go at the same time.

I stood up, the bed creaking in relief. "Orenda, will you promise me to try to live? Even if my orange of your situation is not your orange of your situation?"

She laughed, and I think it wasn't so much pink as it was orange that time. But it all depended on other things in the world, I suppose.

"I'm trying."

a/n

hey guys :)

it's been years since i've written an author's note, but i just wanted to thank everyone who still reads this, because it means a lot! finn and orenda and the whole gang love you <3

how are your summers so far?

mine is hectic, hence the terrible updating.

i'm starting to edit yellow. so i'm debating whether or not to keep putting chapters onto wattpad or just giving you guys the nice finished product right away, so no one gets confused. i really want to have you guys know the ending i have planned, though. it's tough! so i'm sorry if all of a sudden yellow is a little different from before, because i have definitely changed and consequently, so has my writing style. 

i'm also going to try to get it published :) once i finish and edit, hopefully i can get it out there. 

it's exciting! i hope i can get a new chapter out soon. thanks if you've read all this!

love, 

jen