Chapter 18: You Are Like, Scarily Pessimistic

“Sydney, are you coming with us?” Bradley asks, looking over his shoulder at me as he pulls his green polo t-shirt on over his head.

“No, I’m not coming golfing with you guys,” I assure my boyfriend, shaking my head as I flick through a Seventeen Magazine.

“Oh, come on,” He pleads, proceeding to pull a pair of khaki shorts up over his plaid boxers. “It’ll be fun, I promise,” Bradley ads.

“What’s so fun about hitting a bunch of tiny balls with a weird stick of iron?” I ask my boyfriend quizzically, briefly looking up from the magazine article that I am reading. It’s not a very interesting one—something about One Direction and how they’re starting the European leg of their world tour next week or something like that—but I have this weird thing where I buy a magazine, I’m so adamant about reading the entire thing. It makes me feel like I was my money if I don’t read the whole thing and I don’t like wasting money because I’m very cheap and very poor, considering the fact that I don’t have a job or really any source of income besides my parents and my sister. That being said, whenever I get something, I feel an intense need to us it all up or whatever.

Luckily though, everything in Italy is not Italian, believe it or not. I mean, there’s like McDonalds and Subways and all that kind of stuff like that here, but there’s also this one really cool place a few minutes down the street from Francesca’s place. It’s basically a smaller, not-as-convenient Wal-Mart. There’s a lot of stuff there, sure, but I don’t think that anyone can really compete with or beat out Wal-Mart. That’s like saying that Buffy the Vampire Slayer or whatever it’s called is better than Supernatural, which is—obviously—not true at all. Not that I’ve ever seen more than thirty minutes of an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer but still, I’m sure it’s not better because I mean, that’s just not possible.

Anyway though, like I was saying, the shopping center place is a nice enough substitute for me while we’re here in Italy. We won’t be here much longer though, seeing as how tomorrow’s the first day of August and we’ll all by flying back out to Michigan two weeks after tomorrow. Today’s date is July 31st, which means that my friends and I have been in Italy for a tiny bit over a month now, which is hard for me to believe because the time really has gone by so quickly. Granted, I did spend a lot of the time here stuffing my face with gelato and crying my lungs out into Walker’s (Tanner and Mikey too, but mostly Walker) shoulders, but still.

The fact that I’m actually going to be a college student this time next month is completely and totally mind-blowing. Nevertheless, it’s true. Apparently my response letters from a few different universities have been mailed to my dad’s lake house these past few weeks that I’ve been out of the states. Even though I don’t really live with my father, his address is the one that I put as my own on every single one of my college applications so that they would send them there to his house. I only did that because I know that my dad would actually let me open them on my own, whereas my mother would probably be standing by the mailbox, waiting on them and then rip them open in anticipation, which would totally ruin the magic in it for me. So, they’re all at his house and they’re just waiting on me to get there because he said that he’d be sure to leave them un-opened and un-tampered with until I got home.

Honestly though, I’m not expecting all of the letters to be acceptances—I didn’t try all that hard in high school and especially not in my junior year, which is when I had to first start really thinking about colleges and the SAT and the ACT and college visits and all of that wonderfully fun (not) stuff. I didn’t even apply to too many place, really though. Where I go to college just doesn’t much matter to me, as long as I get accepted at one. I applied at the University of Pennsylvania (it’s an Ivy League, so I’m not expecting an acceptance letter there, but whatever), Lake Superior State University and Lake Michigan College (both in Michigan) and lastly, Florida State University and Washington State. I’m almost positive that at least one of those five places accepted me though and I’ll just pick the one that’s closest to wherever Bradley decides that he’ll go.

The sad thing is that I honestly don’t know where any of my friends are going. Like, Drew, I guess his only two options are Ohio and Arkansas and I think I’d prefer him to go to Ohio since that’s closest to where I’ll most likely be, in Michigan. Then there’s freakishly smart Walker, who got accepted to a bunch of colleges and he and I really don’t talk about where he’s gonna go, so I don’t know. Tanner has like, no worries in the world, so I’m sure picking a college is not something he’s thinking too hard about. I’m not sure about Mikey, but Jaime is going to the University of California, Los Angeles, so being the adorable boyfriend he is to her, he’ll probably follow in her footsteps. Lastly there’s Bradley, who is a jerk face and hasn’t told me where he’s been accepted.

“You are like, scarily pessimistic,” Bradley laughs, giving me a confused look.

“I am not,” I counter, closing my magazine, seeing that I’ve got a missed call from my dad. I make a quick mental note to call him—something I haven’t done since Bradley and Drew landed themselves in jail and I had to get his bail money. I mean, I didn’t have to but I couldn’t just let my lovely boyfriend rot in jail. Granted, I know his parents would have gotten him out, but still. We weren’t even dating at the time, I recall, but it’s not like I didn’t wanna be.

“You are,” Bradley insists as he tugs his black sneakers on and then walks over to me, leaning down and pecking me lightly on the lips. “But if you’re absolutely and positively sure that you don’t wanna go, I guess the guys and I’ll be going now.” Bradley sighs. “We’ll be back around like, dinner time,” He informs me, standing back up from his full height.

“I’m pretty positive,” I giggle with a nod. “But yeah, I’ll see you around dinner time, I guess. Have fun and don’t get him by flying balls,” I instruct him with a goofy grin. I almost want to go with him just because I know that our days left together are limited and I should be cherishing every single moment that I possibly can to be with him physically with him, but golfing really isn’t my cup of tea. When we were kids, my dad would take Arianna and me (Josh wasn’t born yet) to the country club where he golfed and I once got slammed in the face with a golf ball and knocked out seven of my teeth (my little girl teeth, thank God) and I haven’t been to a golf course since.

“I will try not to get hit by flying balls,” Bradley mocks with a chuckle. “Love you,” He adds casually as he heads towards the bedroom door, pulling it open. He sleeps in here a lot now, which I don’t mind at all considering the fact that when we first got here, he didn’t even talk to, look at or acknowledge me as a person, let alone his ex-best friend and ex-girlfriend.

“Love you more,” I call after him with a giggle. Like I said, the boy makes me giddy. That was before our breakup and now that we’re back together and all in love and perfect and happy, I’m even giddier than I was post-breakup, which is really, really giddy.

“You don’t, because it’s not possible, but whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” Bradley scoffs before walking out of the door and closing it quietly behind him. Outside the door, I hear his and the voices of Drew, Tanner and Mikey, but not Walker. I’m not really sure, but I think something is…wrong with Walker. Like, he’s just been really, really quiet these past few days and I’ve tried to hang out with him on two occasions but he’s like, politely declining each time.

I hope he isn’t mad at me. I don’t think that he’s mad at me. I haven’t really done anything to constitute him being angry with me, I don’t think. Then again, I guess it’s not personal, because he’s not really talking to any of us. The guys are convinced that he’s just on his “man period” (their words, not mine) but I’ve known Walker for a rather long time and I know when something is up with him. I guess the guys just don’t see it because boys don’t really pay as much attention to things as girls do, I don’t think.

I do know that something is definitely wrong with Walker though and I’m going to figure it out, whether he wants me to or not. I stand to my feet, prepared to go in and wrestle the truth out of him but as I’m walking towards the door, it swings open, revealing Jaime and Elena, who both have happy smiles on their faces though I’m not quite sure why. I do think that they’re gonna make me do something that I don’t feel like doing though. I can just see that happening because I know the two of them pretty well, I think.

In the short time that I’ve been here, I’ve gotten to know my cousin really, really well and my aunt too, actually and the fact that I didn’t know about either of them for eighteen years just really sucks because they’re both so amazing. Jaime, of course, is really cool and honestly, she’s probably the closest female friend that I have because she’s one of the very rare teenage girls that isn’t ridiculously melodramatic. Not to mention the fact that she’s amazing with Mikey and the fact that they’re together means that he’s not a man-whore anymore and that means that I don’t have to worry about him getting syphilis or something gross, which is nice.

 “Erm, hey guys,” I greet, giving them suspicious looks as I run my fingers through my hair absentmindedly.

“Hey Sydney,” Elena chirps, the first to speak of the two of them. “Are you busy today?” She wonders curiously.

“Well, no, not really, I don’t think, since the boys are gone golfing,” I admit, shaking my head. “Why do you ask?” I question.

“Because Jaime and I are going on a much-needed shopping spree in Anguillara Sabazia and you have to come,” Elena informs me.

“Anguillara Sabazia?” I echo, raising my eyebrows and Elena nods in confirmation. “What even is that?” I query.

“It’s a town only like, thirty kilometers from here so we can be there in like, forty minutes by train,” Elena goes on to explain.

“That does sounds nice but I have to find out what’s wrong with Walker,” I tell them with an apologetic shrug. “But tomorrow, yes?”

“What do you mean?” Jaime asks. “Walker’s fine, isn’t he?” She queries, a confused expression coming over her flawless features.

“No,” I answer, shaking my head. “Something is definitely wrong with him and I’m freaking out and I have to find out what,” I sigh.

“You worry too much, Sydney,” Elena laughs. “I’m sure if something was wrong with your friend, he’d tell you. Wouldn’t he?”

“I mean, I guess so,” I sigh, realizing that she’s probably right because that rainy night a few months ago when he and Alison first broke up, he came over to my house in the pouring rain in tears and told me exactly what was wrong with him. But he’s not dating anyone (he and that one girl—  Annabelle have gone on two dates now and I think they’re hitting it off but it’s not like, totally serious yet, obviously) so I’m sure she has nothing to do with what’s wrong with him. He could be sick with the flu or something because he hates oranges more than anything else in the world so his immune system isn’t super strong.

I’m sure that’s it—  he’s just got a cold or something. But if it was just a cold, I don’t think he’d like, shut the rest of us out. Maybe something happened with his family or something. His family life is rather normal though, he has a sister named Shannon who’s like, twenty-one and a brother named Trevor who’s fifteen and his parents are happily married. So maybe that’s not it. It’s something though and I’ll figure it out soon enough, I know that for sure because I am a very, very obstinate girl when it comes to my friends.

“You guess so and we know so,” Elena replies with a giggle. “So, get dressed, affrettatevi, the next train to Anguillara Sabazia leaves at 13:40,” She tells me, using some Italian phrase on me that I obviously don’t understand because, well, you know. I do know military time though and I convert that to the time that we use in America and come up with 1:40. It’s almost 1:15 now, which means I didn’t get much of a notice for this little shopping spree but this is what we’re here to do. Have fun and shop and be reckless with our money and such. Plus I’ve yet to leave Rome since I’ve been here and I’m getting pretty excited about it.

“Okay, okay, okay,” I chuckle, rolling my eyes playfully at them. “I’ll get dressed and meet you guys downstairs in a second,” I say.

“Affrettatevi!” Elena exclaims in a sing-song voice before looping her tanned arm through Jaime’s and they gleefully skip out.

“Still don’t know what that means, you know!” I call after Elena with a laugh, shaking my head as I close the door behind them. I go over to my closet and pull it open, deciding that I have get all dressed up or anything since it’s just the two of them and we’re going shopping so I need to be like, comfortable so that I can actually walk around for a while. I take a simple summer dress out of the closet along with a sleeveless light wash denim vest and then strip out of the yoga pants and big t-shirt that I wore to sleep last night before getting dressed.

Once I’m dressed, I examine myself in the mirror and mentally thank my sister for making me by this dress last year, because it really is adorable. It’s like an off white color and has thick straps on the shoulder along with an edgy bodice and a zipper on the front. It’s one of those fit and flare dresses too, meaning that it’s really fitted until it gets to my waist and then it flares out a little bit. Over the dress I pull on my vest, which is just a normal vest with a cute little red Aztec design above the lapels. I slip on some thong sandals, run my fingers through my hair again since I haven’t really properly brushed it today, and then grab my purse and iPhone then head out of my room, turning the light out on the way.

I pause when I reach Walker’s bedroom door and peak into it but don’t actually go all the way in because I know that if I do, I’ll start interrogating him and then we’ll miss the train and Elena and Jaime will yell at me. So, I just peak in a bit and see that he’s lying on his bed in a pair of sweatpants and no shirt near the headboard with his feet extended and crossed at the ankles at the foot of the bed. He’s propped up a little bit, his hand underneath the pillow that he’s lying on and he’s watching some kind of game show on the television. I guess he looks okay but then again, looks can be deceiving. Maybe Elena and Jaime are right—  maybe I do worry too much.

I pull the door closed as quietly as I possibly can and then bound down the stairs, checking the time and seeing that it’s only just now 1:25, which means that I got dressed pretty quickly just now—  something totally and completely rare for me. I see Elena and Jaime sitting on the couch, talking about some new song or something and when they see me, the conversation disperses and they both stand up.

“Ready to go?” Jaime asks giddily and I can tell she’s really happy, to be going shopping in Italy, I guess.

“Ready, ready,” I confirm with a smile as I push a lock of my hair behind my ear.

“Then let’s ¡date prisa!” Elena says and I give her a strange look, placing the language as not Italian.

“Was that Spanish?” I ask her curiously as the three of us walk out of the house together and Elena locks the door behind us

“I’m a girl of many, many talents, Sydney—  languages included,” She playfully tells me as we walk down the sidewalk, I guess headed in the direction of the train station. I’ve never actually been on a train because they really aren’t a main system of transport in Michigan, so I guess riding one will be pretty cool. I know that I should be a lot more excited about this but I really am not the type of girl who likes to walk around on her feet for hours, picking up clothes, trying them on and spending hundreds of dollars on clothing. I mean, sure shopping is nice but I don’t really like to go on full out shopping sprees. I do get to spend time with Jaime and Elena though and that’s something I haven’t done much of since I got here, so it should be fun.

“And this is why Tanner is so madly in love with you,” Jaime concludes with a chuckle.

“He is not,” Elena murmurs, rolling her eyes at Jaime like she’s annoyed, but I can tell that she’s really not.

“He is too,” I interject, agreeing with Jaime. “Seriously though, like, he doesn’t talk about anything else,” I inform her truthfully.

“We haven’t even been dating all that long,” Elena reminds us, her tan complexion still slightly red in a blush.

“Yeah, but still, he’s obviously heads over heels for you. You know, Mikey and I only dated a few weeks before he told me that he loves me,” Jaime says matter-of-factly, twisting a lock of her long blonde hair around her finger as we continue to walk.

“And Mikey is a very big cheese ball,” I tell her with a laugh.

“Not bigger than Bradley though, I’m sure,” Jaime teasingly shoots back.

“You two are very weird girls,” Elena says in an accusing tone with a giggle. Soon after Elena says that, we arrive at the train station and purchase our tickets about five minutes before the train is scheduled to leave the station. When we have our tickets in hand, we find our way to our compartment—  well, Elena finds the way since everything is written in Italian and we just follow her. As we’re buckling our seatbelts, the conductor or whoever drives the train comes over a loudspeaker, wishing us a good afternoon and then he gives some really boring information about how long the ride will be—  a little under forty minutes, like Elena said. Once he’s finally done talking, the locomotive does this weird whistling thing and then pulls off, headed towards Anguillara Sabazia. 

“Elena, how much is thirty euros?” I ask about an hour later as we’re in this huge store in a shopping mall in Anguillara Sabazia.

“Erm, if my conversion skills are on point, which I think that they are, it’s roughly $40.59,” My cousin informs me looking at a shirt.

“I’m gonna be poor by the time I leave here,” I sigh but throw the dress that I’m holding up over my arm anyway, which is where I’m holding all of the clothes that I plan on buying because even though this store has really cute clothes, they don’t have freaking baskets, which is super dumb. So I’m being forced to hold my things in my arm, which is painful after a while, I’ll have you know.

“Yes, but you will be poor and fabulously dressed,” My cousin reasons as she grabs a few dresses and gestures to the dressing room. “I’ll be right back,” She informs me before walking off in that general direction.

That’s where Jaime is too, trying on clothes but I’m pretty sleepy actually and I don’t feel like continuously taking off and putting on outfits and such, so I’m just getting stuff my size and hoping that I fit, which I think I should. I continue to walk around the store while Jaime and Elena are in the dressing rooms, occasionally picking up a dress or a skirt or shorts or something until my iPhone rings in my purse. After putting all the clothes down on a nearby table, I unzip my fringe purse and thumb around it until my fingers clasp around my phone. I take it out and then look down at the display, frowning when I notice that the number is one that I don’t know. I can tell it’s an Italian area code though, so I go ahead and answer it.

“Hello?” I answer politely.

“Sydney Barker?” A male voice asks in slightly rough English—  it’s clearly not his first language but he speaks it fluently, I guess.

“Um, yes?” I nervously reply, raising my eyebrows. I hate it when people call and ask if it’s me like that because that just makes me so anxious. I mean, haven’t you ever watched Lifetime or something? Because I swear, on all the movies on Lifetime, when something bad happens or is about to happen, the person gets a phone call and the person asks for them in a somber and emotionless voice, like this man just did. Then again, maybe I’m just paranoid.

“This is Dr. Benito Acardi at the Alberti Ospedale and we have your friend, Walker Davis, here in ICU,” He informs me calmly.

“What?” I shriek, my eyes widening and I immediately start to panic. So something is wrong with Walker. I knew I didn’t worry too much. “W-what’s wrong with him?” I ask, pushing my hair away from my face and starting to take little baited breaths so that I don’t freak out too much before this doctor guy tells me what’s up with Walker. “Is he okay?” I question him, my voice demanding.

“A lady by the name of Francesca Valentino called an ambulance for him about thirty minutes ago. She said that he was having trouble breathing and running a very, very high fever.” Dr. Acardi goes on to explain as if a nineteen year old boy not being able to breath and running a high fever is just normal. Which, f.y.i., it is not. I mean, everyone gets a little sick now and again but something tells me that this isn’t just your normal cold or influenza or anything like that.  

“W-what’s wrong with him?” I repeat, my voice growing shaky. “Can I speak to him?” I ask him desperately. If he can actually talk on the phone, that much means he’s not doing so terribly, right?

“Mr. Davis just woke up and we’re working very hard to get his vital signs back up—  he’s unable to coherently talk right now. He’s very, very confused, Miss Barker. But he did specifically request that I call you and he wants to see you and he wants to be able to tell you himself,” The doctor tells me.

“B-but, I— ” I’m about to try to force him to tell me, but I realize that that’s probably not gonna happen, so instead I just ask him where the hospital is. He feeds me the address and I quickly rememorize it and hang up, push my phone back into my pocket, turning on my heel, prepared to run out of this place and get back to Rome as quickly as possible but I’m stopped by Jaime, who’s returning with an armful of clothes.

“Hey, so all— ” She cuts off before she can finish her sentence though, noticing how watery my eyes are—  I can’t help it, I’m a crier. “Is everything okay?” She asks me with a concerned expression.

“Um, no, not really.” I say, shaking my head quietly. “Walker’s in the hospital and I don’t know why and I have to go see him and I’ll call you later because I need to get back to Rome like, pronto. J-just tell Elena that I had to leave and I’ll see you guys later,” I say before turning away from her and running out of the store, my high school track skills kicking into high gear.

Thankfully, the store is on the first floor of the mall, so there’s no stairs or elevator or anything like that to go through. I run out of the mall and to the parking lot, quickly jumping into a cab as a guy who looks like he’s maybe a few years older than me gets out. I quickly tell the man the address and then then throw a few Euros over the seat at him, even throwing in a fairly large tip so that he’ll step on it. And he does, going at least like, 80 miles per hour, speeding back toward Rome.

__________________________

“Walker Davis,” I breathlessly demand about twenty minutes later, running into the Alberti Ospedale.

“Are you family?” She asks in the same kind of accent the man over the phone did as she looks up at me boredly.

“Yeah,” I quickly lie, still trying to catch my breath from running all the way in here. I know that if the lady knows that I’m not really related to Walker, she won’t let me go and see him but he’s like my brother and that should be enough. The cabbie drove really fast, going way faster than what could be considered safe, but I’m thankful that he did because we got here in half the time.   

“He’s in ICU, room 6314,” The lady tells me after a few minutes of typing on her computer and reading the screen.

“Thank you so much,” I breathe, turning away from the reception desk and taking off running down the corridor of the hospital.

I quickly find an elevator and jump in, pushing the button with a ‘6’ on it, assuming that the ICU floor is located on the sixth floor since that’s what the room number starts with. The elevator moves excruciatingly slow, which makes me wanna cry because I need to see Walker and I need to see him right now and this stupid elevator is making that impossible. After the longest two minutes of my life, the elevator opens on the sixth floor and I run out of it, looking at the numbers on the rooms as I swoosh past them.

6310…6312…6314. When I spot the number the nurse told me, I come to a quick halt and then push down the handle on the door, walking into the room, feeling like I’m about to pass out because I’m just so out of breath from so much running. Jesus Christ, I’m out of shape.

“Walker,” I say, breathing a huge sigh of relief when I see him lying on the hospital bed, staring up at the television. His eyes are open and that stupid little annoying machine that monitors your heart is constantly beeping, meaning that he is obviously not dead.

“Hey Syd,” He greets weakly, his voice hoarse as he turns his head to look over at me.

“Oh my gosh, w-what happened?” I demand, running over to him and leaning down, wrapping my arms around him as best I can.

Walker doesn’t really say anything at all for a few minutes even though I know he heard me. He breathes in a deep breath through his nose and then blows it out of his mouth, blinking a few times. He does this repeatedly for a few minutes and just when I’m about to ask him again, he speaks.

“I’m sick, Sydney,” Walker informs me in a subdued voice.

“Obviously,” I respond, standing back up all the way and looking at him suspiciously.  

“No, I don’t mean like, the flu or a cold or even the measles or anything like that,” He murmurs.

“Well, what do you mean? Walker, I’m freaking out right now and if you don’t tell me, I’m gonna start crying,” I weakly say.

“You might wanna sit down,” He advices, using the buttons on his bed remote to adjust his bed position so that he’s sitting upright.

“No, I don’t want to sit down. Walky, please, just tell me,” I practically beg, grabbing his hand and noticing that it is like, ice cold.

“I’m gonna die, Sydney,” Walker says after a few seconds of silence as he squeezes my hand lightly.

“Walker, what are you talking about?” I ask him, my voice trembling slightly as I start to hyperventilate.

“Don’t be mad at me, okay?” He pleads, looking over at me, his eyes full of tears.

“I’m not gonna be mad at you, Walky, I swear,” I promise him, sitting on the edge of his bed, still holding his hand.

Walker takes a deep breath and I watch as the tears begin to fall from his hazel colored eyes. He doesn’t like to cry in front of other people, Walker doesn’t and this is only the second time I can remember seeing him cry. The first being when he and Alison broke up and that in itself was pretty heartbreaking but this is a whole heck of a lot more heartbreaking because he’s lying in a hospital bed and he’s just not telling me why and that’s how I know it’s something bad. Something, really, really bad. Besides, he just said that he’s going to die, which I really doubt is going to happen anytime son.

“I have cancer,” He sighs loudly, rolling his eyes.

I nearly fall off of the bed and onto the titled floor and I think the only thing that keeps me from doing that is the fact that he’s actually holding my hand. My jaw drops and the tears that have been gathering in my eyes ever since I got the phone call all spill over, suddenly running down my face. Walker moves a little bit, scooting away from me and I’m not quite sure why, but then I realize what he’s doing when he pulls on my hand, pulling me down beside him on the bed. It’s a tiny bed, but an okay fit.

“But you can’t have cancer,” I croak, wrapping my arm around his midsection tightly.

“But I do,” Walker murmurs, wincing slightly as I tightly my hold on him. “Uh, they drew blood there,” He says.

“Sorry,” I blubber through my tears, jerking my hand away and biting down so hard on my lip that I taste blood in my mouth.

“I was gonna tell you when you got back from wherever you went with the girls,” Walker tells me, his voice still really weak. “I promise I was, Sydney. I was gonna tell you and then I was gonna tell the rest of the guys. That’s why I haven’t really been doing anything. It’s not that I didn’t wanna hang out with you, because hanging out with you is like the best thing ever but I’m just so tired, Sydney. My oncologist called me only a few days ago and she told me that all the test were back and that I do have cancer and we had to like, prepare and stuff,” He explains.

“What kind of cancer is it?” I ask him quietly, squeezing my eyes shut tightly as I lie there by my best friend.

“Does it really matter, Syd?” He asks with a humorless laugh. “It’s cancer and it’s killing me and I’m gonna die,” He says.

“Walker, please stop saying that,” I beg, starting to hyperventilate because that’s what I do when I cry for too long. I also feel like I’m gonna vomit because I guess that’s another thing I do when I’m emotional. “Tell me, please, I wanna know, Walker,” I plead.

“Acute lymphoblastic leukemia,” Walker tells me, heaving a sigh. I try to say something, anything, but I really can’t. Because I really just feel like I’m having a heart attack or a stroke or maybe just a panic attack or something. Tears stream down my face like water streams down rivers once dams are broken. My heart pounds so hard in my chest that I feel like it’s gonna like, explode. A hear shatteringly painful sear runs through my head and it feels like I’m being stabbing in the back of my cranium repeatedly.

I feel Walker try to console me, whispering semi-comforting things to me, but it just doesn’t work at all. I just curl up beside him, burying my face in his chest as I cry. Then I start to feel a bit guilty because he’s the one with cancer, the one who is like, terminally sick and I’m the one crying like a newborn baby. I try to stop, I really do, but I can’t. So Walker and I just lie there together and I cry and I think he cries too, but my sniffles and whines are so noisy that I can’t really hear him. It’s not fair. It’s not fair at all and I know that it’s really selfish to say this but, of all seven billion people in the world to get cancer, why did it have to be Walker? Why not me? I mean, of course I don’t want cancer but Walker is such a beautiful person inside and out and he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve it at all and I wish it was anyone else in the world. Just not him. Please God, let this be a really, really bad nightmare. Please just let me wake up and let this be a forgotten memory in a matter of minutes. Please God. 

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Author's Note: I missed last week and I had a legit reason for doing it but I cannot recall it at the moment. It was probably school because I think that's what causes every single problem that I have. Annnnyways, are you surprised? I think you're surprised. I've been planning this for a while and I'm in the process of doing a crap load of research about Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. I obviously don't know anyone with this cancer (or any cancer, really) so please don't yell at me if I get things wrong, though I'm trying to make it all as acurate as possible. Anyways, don't forget to comment and vote, por favor! The updates will now return to Mondays and the only way I'll miss a day is if I'm like, deathly sick or my internet isn't working or something like that. Thoughts on this chapter? Predictions for the next? The picture is Walker!  (Josh Hutcherson) </3 And the song just like, a friend-sy song that's good for Walker and Sydney, I think? Anywho, I like it, so yeah. I'll see you lovely people Monday! (: