Valentina Karas

Monday morning comes before I have time to process the news. I've heard about cancer, treatment, and the hospital more times this weekend than in the seventeen years I've been here. Tomorrow after school we're touring one of the hospitals the doctor told us to investigate. 

Horizons Children's Health Institute is a short drive from my school, putting it in a convenient location. It has the treatment my brother needs and a convincing success rate. Horizons doesn't seem too bad, but the staff aren't particularly known for a good bedside manner. When I visited sophomore year to knock out some community service hours, it felt more like a prison than a place of healing. I may have my reservations, but it didn't stop my parents from asking for a tour. Who am I to stop them? My brother has an illness that could kill him and the last thing they need is my attitude.

Today is going to be weird. My parents emailed both of our schools about the situation last night. Their Facebook comments are full of people promising to keep Ronan in their prayers, so I'm sure a few sympathetic comments from teachers are in my future. 

I hope going to school will be a distraction from all of my thoughts. Other than Katelyn, my girlfriends have no clue and I'll have to find a way to tell them. Ideally it won't come up and I can pretend to be the nonchalant and bubbly Valentina everyone knows.

Most mornings I pick up my hairbrush and work it through my pin straight hair. I'm feeling pretty tired so that part of my routine doesn't happen. I'm too out of it to cake on makeup so I curl my lashes and put a little mascara on them. This means the freckles on my nose and cheeks are out in the open. Katelyn hates me for always covering them up with concealer. 

I look around my room. It's never perfectly clean; my bed is always made and nothing on my vanity is out of place, but there are always clothes scattered around. This weekend, however, a mountain of clothes accumulated next to my bed. 

Leaving my room, I see the rest of my family in the kitchen. Mom, Dad, and Ro are having a conversation when I walk in. 

"Guys, V's done getting ready." Dad teases, giving me a hug. My dad seems like the scariest guy in the world, but his unmatched sense of humor proves everyone wrong. He's the kind of dad that jokes around with his kids but that's how he shows his love. He's several inches taller than I am, so even I'm a little intimidated by him. Timothy Karas, however, lets me know that I'm his "baby girl" every chance he gets, letting me burn holes through his pockets and fill him in on high school drama. 

Mom shakes her head. "Leave your daughter alone, Tim. Us women have to take care of business." Shania Karas, my maternal unit, doesn't fuck around. She's the kind of mom to beat up a seventeen year old girl or twelve year old boy for messing with me or Ronan. She also gave me her curves and double D boobs, both I have a love-hate relationship with. My parents couldn't be more different, but there's no denying their love for one another. 

"How are you, V?"

"Not terrible, but I've been better."

Dad nods. "I'm sure all of us are worried about Ro, but we're touring that hospital this evening." My dad is more carefree than my mom, but the news about my brother made him more serious.  

"Good to know." Ronan stirs his cereal but never eats it. He may be the younger brother, but has two or three inches on me. He reminds me of it every chance he gets. Unfortunately, leukemia is taking his ability to smile and joke around like he used to. 

"Even people we haven't talked to since our wedding want to see you get healthy." Mom looks at Ronan, but he doesn't return it. 

I don't feel like crying right now; it will throw off my whole day. My brother's apathy towards everything makes me want to fight his illness for him and get the smiley brother I know and love back. 

~

Good friends are built-in therapists: they toe the line between keeping it real and helping me keep my head high. Ronan's well being lingers in the back of my mind, but my friends' chatter keeps me distracted. 

Katelyn and I are friends with two other girls: Riley and Layla. We only get to see them at lunch since they're in the grade below us. I'm the oldest of the quartet, but somehow Katelyn and the two juniors tower over me. 

"How was y'all's homecoming?" Riley asks. Riley Johnson's mom and my dad work together, but she's a lot closer to Katelyn because of basketball. "Your pictures were stunning, by the way. 

Katelyn laughs. "So were yours, girl. We had fun."

I turn to Layla Kumar, who is basically the Indian version of me. "What about you, Lay?"

Layla goes on a rant about how much fun she had with her boyfriend Knox, a guy who attends an elite private school. I've never met said boyfriend, but he frequently buys her flowers, leading me to believe their relationship is relatively healthy. Unlike me, she can keep a guy around for a long time. They've been serious for several months. 

The only guy I've come close to having a relationship with is my own brother.

"He's so amazing." Layla swoons, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

I recall everything she told me about him. "He sounds like it. When is it my turn?" Having a boyfriend is the least of my worries right now. The thought of picking a new acquaintance over someone who has spent six years with me, especially when he needs my support the most.

"It'll happen, V." Layla squeezes my hand. "I felt the way you do and the universe gave him to me when I least expected it." 

"I'm happy for you." Letting my friend yap about Tyler made everything feel normal for a while. "We need to hang out."

Layla shakes her head. "You already picked Katelyn over me. This is like, the point of no return."

"There's always room at the Karas house for you." I say. "My mom misses you."

"How is Mrs. K?" Layla's question isn't necessarily rude, but my entire family's rhythm is fucked up.

"She's fine." I lie. How am I going to tell her?

Thankfully, she doesn't follow up. "I miss her too." She fidgets with the Kendra Scott bracelet that Knox gave her. "Give her a hug for me, Tina."

"Will do." God knows Mom needs that hug.

The bell rings, ending lunch. Our classmates take their time to leave the cafeteria. Katelyn and Riley, however, waste no time leaving. 

"See you two later."

We wave at the two basketball prodigies. When they're out of sight, Layla shakes her head. "These pretentious division one athletes. What about the regular people?" Layla Kumar and regular should not be uttered in the same sentence. She does competitive dance out of school and has been to insane places because of it. I don't want to hear shit about how "regular" she is.

"Right." We're in no rush to leave since we have fifteen minutes between the end of lunch and the start of our afternoon classes. 

"So, about finding you a man...Knox has this friend-"

"Don't start." I scold her. She didn't do anything wrong. I just no longer have the capacity to think about much else. 

"Did something happen?"

I don't have a problem explaining this weekend to her at all. The problem is each word makes the situation a bit more real. 

"I didn't know. I'm so sorry, V." Layla lets me play with her gold bracelet. "I won't bring it up again."

"It's not your fault." I can't blame her for something out of her control. "My parents are doing what they can." 

"I know we don't see each other much, but I'm here if you need anything."

I nod, examining each golden bracelet on her wrist. "Thank you. I really appreciate it." 

"It's the least I can do." Layla and I hug. "I forgot how good your hugs are, V." Layla's not wrong; everyone says that I give the best hugs in the world. 

"So, is the private school brat's friend still on the table?"

Layla rolls her eyes. "My god, Knox is not a brat. Get that out of your head."

"What's his name?"

Layla struggles to come up with is name. "I forget his name, but I feel like you two would be cute. I wanna say he's Puerto Rican but I'm not totally sure." She picks up her phone and texts her boyfriend. "Knox would definitely know." 

"Is he cute?" I feel myself switch to FBI mode.

Layla shrugs. "Knox is the only guy I find cute, but his friend isn't bad at all." Her phone dings with a notification from her man himself. "His name's Asher."

"I'll have to do a little research on him." I muse. "Well, I have to go to class."

Layla follows me out. "Isn't senior year super easy?"

"Think of it as a reward for your time." I explain as we walk through the crowded hallways. "Obviously my year kinda sucks, but the teachers stop giving a shit."

"Good to know." Layla gives me a thumbs up. "Here's my class. See you later?"

"It's been real." I continue on to English. If Katelyn wasn't in the seat next to me, I would've fallen asleep in class already. Ms. Ormond isn't necessarily a bad teacher. She's a sweet milf with kids not much older than her students. If anything, she needs to work on making her lessons more interesting. 

No one else is there except for the milf herself and a few early people. I take my seat and start to mind my business when Ms. Ormond approaches me. "Hey, Valentina. Can we have a quick chat?"

Anticipating the topic, I follow her outside. I appreciate my teacher's words of encouragement, but I know they won't magically make my brother feel better. 

She goes a step further. "If you ever need an extension, you'll get one no questions asked." She offers, giving me a sympathetic look. "Your family is in my prayers. I'd love to teach your brother one day." 

I don't like to cry, but tears fill my eyes and they threaten to spill. Most of my teachers have told me something to this effect, but this one seems the most genuine. "I really appreciate it." 

"When I was your age, my grandpa got sick. We were really close..." She sighs. I'm sure her grandfather's death still affects her to this day. "Seeing him like that affected me a lot and his passing was the lowest point in my life. I wish my high school teachers were more understanding through it all." 

"Wow, Ms. Ormond. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Valentina, I have no doubt your brother will beat cancer. Treatment has tremendously improved over the past twenty-five years." 

"I hope so." I say. "Thanks again. I needed that."

"You're welcome. If you need anything I'm here." People say things without sincerity, but her sentiment provides me with a glimmer of hope. 

~

After the short drive to my brother's school, I wait outside. Trying to find him amidst the horde of middle schoolers is more than a notion. We're just meeting Mom at the hospital since Dad's job ended up not letting him leave. 

The sight of Ro's peers, their laughter and carefree demeanor, strikes a chord within me. It feels surreal to witness their joy and animated conversations while my brother is navigating through a tumultuous time. The contrast between their lightheartedness and my brother's challenges highlights the harsh reality of the situation, casting a shadow on the innocence that surrounds them. Like them, Ronan was once innocent and leukemia stole that from him too soon. 

In the meantime, I start on my homework. Senior year may be the easiest, but you can't afford to be complacent and lollygag when college applications are around the corner. My GPA is a product of hard work and long hours I can't afford to let it slip. 

"Hey, Valentina." I don't even see Ronan enter my car and buckle into the passenger seat next to me. Ever since he entered middle school, our car rides have become pretty entertaining. I just wish he wouldn't complain so much about the music I play. 

I almost drop my pen when I hear his voice. "Holy shit. Where did you come from?"

"Come on, V. We have the same mom and dad." He deadpans, shaking his head. 

"Sweet lord." I respond, starting the car. "How was your day?"

"Not bad." He says. "My friend Josh asked about you. He thinks you're really pretty, but I don't see it. No offense."

Ignoring Ronan's jab, I chuckle. "Tell Josh he's way too young."

"Will do." He fake salutes, melting into the seat. "Can my friends see me at the hospital?"

"I really hope so." The prospect of being isolated from his friends is devastating for him. It breaks my heart that he can't hang out with them as frequently. But in this weird way, he is a source of inspiration, encouraging me to appreciate the simple things and not take them for granted.  

Horizons Children's Health Institute is a short drive away. The minute we pull up, my intuition tells me that something about this place is a bit disconcerting. I feel uneasy knowing Ronan will be treated in a place without comfort or joy, but I don't voice my concern to Mom when we meet up outside. 

"Sorry Dad couldn't make it." Mom sighs. "Well, here we are. Let's see if someone is going to give us a tour." 

The supposed haven for healing reveals a disheartening reality with its bleak ambiance and a staff seemingly devoid of compassion. From the moment we step through its doors, an unsettling atmosphere prevails, lacking the warmth and reassurance expected in such a setting. The staff, far from the empathetic caregivers one would hope for, exude an air of indifference, their interactions marked by curt responses and dismissive gestures. I'm pretty sure the receptionist rolled her eyes at a patient simply for asking where something was. The three of us are immediately uncomfortable with the lack of warmth inside.

Still, Mom approaches the receptionist hoping to get some insight into the facility. A girl who doesn't look much older than me sits behind the counter. She's too busy with something on her computer to notice my mom talking to her. I want to tell her to walk out, but something tells me not to voice my concern. 

"Excuse me," the girl looks up, a dirty look on her face. "My son here has leukemia and we were wondering if we could get a quick tour." 

"Alright." Her curt response shocks me but doesn't at the same time. "Name, please?"

"Shania and Ronan Karas." 

"Someone will be right with you." She says monotonously. I observe that the nurses aren't happy to be here. The looks on their faces indicate that taking care of their patients' needs is an imposition. 

The chairs in the waiting area are hard and uncomfortable and I'm confused why the hell they're here to begin with. We wait for what feels like an eternity before a nurse finally gives us the time of day. "Y'all want a tour?"

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all." I can hear the sarcasm etched into the old lady's voice. "Let's go." 

We quickly figure out that our guide has little patience for our questions. She ushers us through the halls with speed as if she has somewhere to be. The rooms, though equipped with the latest technology, lack the personal touch that we had hoped for. It becomes evident that, despite the convenience of its location, this hospital may not be the haven we seek for Ronan.

"Will my friends be able to visit me?" Ronan inquires. 

The old hag shoots my brother a dirty look. "Fifteen minutes a week, young man." This answer saddens us, my brother especially. Brief visits with friends in this hospital that rivals a dog pound is enough to definitely not want to spend time here. 

Silence overtakes the tour before Mom thanks the old hag for her time and we get out of there. My lungs embrace the fresh air outside of the hospital. Even the air inside felt stale.

Ronan is the first to voice his thoughts. "Mom, do I have to go there?" 

"I didn't like it either, Ro. Now what?" 

I recall what the doctor said according to Dad. "Wait. Isn't there another place the doctor said to check out?"

"Yeah. The problem is it's pretty far away from us." The distance concern is valid, but my mom would fly to Timbuktu and back for either one of us if it meant we didn't have to see that mean lady's side eye again. "We can go on Thursday if you want."

I believe that when a door closes, a window opens. That window, the hopefully more comfortable and congenial hospital, brings me another glimmer of hope. 

~

chapter two...this was fun to write. what do you think of v's friends and family? what about her relationship with her brother?