Standing in the middle of a cemetery in the pouring rain at ten at night was on my own personal bucket list of things I NEVER wanted to experience. Of course, Ryder hadn't given me any indication where we were going, and when we finally got there, it was too late to turn around and drive back home. I sat in the car for a good ten minutes before he was able to convince me to get out and follow him.

We stopped toward the back of the cemetery, in front of a large headstone, surrounded in dozens roses. I didn't have to read the name engraved in it to know who's tombstone we were standing in front of. After a moment, Ryder sat down and touched his trembling fingertips to the petals of one of the roses.

"There's a part of me that wants to be buried right here next to her so that we'll always be together." Ryder stated his thoughts aloud. "But the other part doesn't want a bunch of money wasted just for me to rot in the ground. That part wants to be cremated and have my ashes spread over all my favorite places."

I reached out and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I understand, Ryder. But that's not something you have to—"

"But it is." He interrupted. "This is something I have to think about, Zoey."

"She would be so proud of you guys." I said softly. "I mean, a little disappointed by some of the dumb stunts you guys pull, but all and all she'd be proud. Both of you graduated high school, I'm sure you've been accepted to a couple colleges, and—"

He nodded, throwing me a sad smile over his shoulder. "I got into UCLA. But, I'm about to just tell them to give my spot to someone else. There's no point in having false hope."

"I got in there too." I replied. "And my friends got in to USC. So we won't even be in the same school. I'll be starting over."

"You'll be okay. Everyone loves you, Zoey. It'll be easy for you to just up and leave and start over." He shifted his body in my direction, nudging my shoulder. "Turn around."

I frowned, ready to speak, but the words died in my mouth when I saw the beautiful lightning dancing across the sky behind me. Pulling my phone out, I quickly took a picture and slid it back into my pocket before it could get soaked. Ryder was quiet next to me, knees pulled up to his chest, arms stretched around them, and chin resting on top. He looked so young, so vulnerable and innocent, that I didn't want to disturb the peace by speaking.

I never would have thought I'd find a kindered spirit, a peace, with Ryder Blake. Yes, his dumb stunts nearly gave me a heart attack, but when he wasn't be a complete adrenaline junkie idiot who made annoying comments, he was actually sweet. He was genuinely a decent person, just scared and in fear of dying, though he'd never say it out loud.

"Ryder, I'm going to say something, and I want you to promise me you won't lose it." I broke the silence a few minutes later.

He didn't move from his position, but looked toward me, his eyes prompting me to go on.

"I think you should check yourself into the hospital." I breathed out, not looking at him. "I know you waited a while, and maybe the cancer has spread beyond help, but it's something. It's a chance for you to live."

"It's a chance for me to be doped up and lose myself completely, then die." He retorted angrily. "I've thought about doing it hundreds of times, Zoey. Ryan has tried to convince me. But I'm not doing it. I don't want to follow the same path my mom did."

I had to swallow the lump in my throat so my voice wouldn't crack mid sentence. "So you'd rather just keep going, keep doing all this crazy shit until you can't? Until your last breath? And what happens to Ryan then, Ryder? Cade? Me?"

"Ryan would be devastated any way you look at it, Zoey. Even if I was in the hospital, he would feel as he had with our mother all over again. And when the time does come, I already told you how I feel he's going to handle it, or should I say, not handle it. He's going to break so bad that I don't know if anyone will be able to bring him back." Ryder dug the heel of his palm under his right eye to stop the tears that were pooling in them from escaping. "Cade will get over it. He's my best friend, sure, but he's always had his own path and friends, and life. All of it. He'll be okay."

"And what about me?"

The flood gates finally opened and he couldn't stop the tears any longer. "You. . . I don't know, Zoey. You're strong, you're so so strong. You have a great heart. But you shield your emotions and bury them, and that, that's going to destroy you, but end up being the saving grace for everyone in the aftermath of my death. You'll be broken, hurt, shattered, all of that and more. But you'll be able to maintain the strength to comfort Ryan and everyone else. That's why I asked you for help and not some other girl from school. Because you're like Mom, you're strong, you put everyone else before you even when your own world is falling apart."

***

I had been so caught up in my thoughts and trying not to hydroplane that I didn't realize Ryder had passed out on the way back, his breathing deep. As if he felt the car slow to a stop, his eyes fluttered than opened a fraction.

"I feel like I was hit by a semi then run over by two cars afterward." He groaned.

His body was probably trying to recuperate from everything he'd done today.

"Do you need me to go get my stepdad?" I asked, starting to unbuckle my seatbelt. He opened his mouth, but headlights heading in our direction nearly blinded us and stopped his train of thought.

I immediately climbed out of my sister's car and looked at the Blake's driveway. Ryan had just pulled in, the engine of the truck slowly fading into a hum. My vision was still momentarily blocked by floaters from the bright lights.

"Your brother is a dick." I huffed, peeking my head back in to check on Ryder. He looked sicker than he had a few seconds prior, almost as if he were about to throw up.

I rushed to the other side of the car, throwing the door open before he could cover my sister's precious interior in vomit. I made it just in time, but unfortunately my shoes didn't. I immediately looked away, afraid I'd get sick too if I looked. When I finally grained enough courage to look back at him, my stomach did churn, but not because of the puke, but because of what it was. It was dark, crimson. It was literally almost all blood.

"Ryder?" Ryan was blocking my view of the sick bad boy before I could say anything.

Ryan shifted a few times, oblivious to the fact he was soaking his black work boots in throw up. When Ryder didn't say anything, Ryan looked over his shoulder at me.

"Where did you guys go?" He asked quickly. "Did he seem sick while you were out?"

"To the cemetery to see your mom." I answered. "No, I mean, he seemed quiet and distant but not sick really."

I saw his body deflate a little at the mention of his mother, but he instantly reverted back to his worried self when Ryder leaned forward a little, grasping Ryan's bicep, shaking his head.

"I will kill you if you call 911 or take me to the hospital." He croaked, barely audible.

Ryan made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a snicker. "Then I guess I'll be dead. Come on."

"I'm not getting out if you're going to call or take me." Ryder repeated, then looked to me for back up. I swallowed, hugging my arms around myself.

"I think you should go in too, Ryder. You heard what I said tonight, I mean it."

As if he were done with both of us completely, Ryder stood, and nearly stumbled forward into the crimson mess at his feet. Ryan caught him, shifting his slightly so he was carrying almost all his weight.

"Your mom is a nurse." Ryan said. It wasn't a question, but a matter of fact statement. "Is she working tonight? Do you think she could help?"

***

Ryan and I stood in the hallway, watching from afar as my mother talked to Ryder. She was cradling him against her, something she'd always done with Kat and I when we were sick as kids. Seeing her do it with a kid that wasn't even her own started to shake the reality of everything into me.

Ryder really was going to die. This wasn't some cruel, sick, joke but a fact. My mom had loved Mrs. Blake, they'd grown up together. This couldn't be easy on her either, but she was holding it together like a champion as she comforted him.

"I can see where you get your strength from." Ryan commented, as if he had read my mind. He looked beyond exhausted and was even still covered in the dirt and grime from the cars he'd worked on before he'd come home. He hadn't even bothered to go jump in the shower real quick. He'd stood across the hall from me, pressed against a family picture, watching my mom and his brother as intently as I was.

I smiled a little. "Yeah, she's been through a lot. I couldn't even imagine going through what she did and still going to work a twelve hour shift the next night. She's a true superhero."

Before he could continue the conversation, my mom stood, dropping a blanket over Ryder's limp, almost lifeless body with a sad look. He thanked her quietly as she turned the lights out and stepped out into the hall with Ryan and me. She said something softly under her breath and shut the door gently, gesturing for the two of us to follow her to the living room. She clearly didn't want Ryder to hear whatever it was she had to say.

That in itself scared the crap out of me.

"He's horribly sick." She stated the obvious. "I'd need to bring him in and do blood work to know exactly how bad he is. But even just looking at him, I can see the life draining from him. The way he's describing his pain too, my God, that poor baby. I'm amazed he's even able to walk right now." She looked from me to Ryan. "Do you know how long he was keeping the diagnosis to himself? I'll try and pull up the records we have tomorrow, but I may be able to explain in more depth with more information."

"Did he get it from Mary?" I asked my mom. She sighed, crossing her arms.

"That's hard to say. Acute Myeloid Leukemia is one of the few that can be passed down genetically, even if it's just a few abnormal genes, but it's not very common." She explained softly.

Ryan shook his head to himself. "How long does he got?"

"If he doesn't come in and try chemo and treatment? Probably til the end of summer." Mom responded. "And that's pushing it."

"I understand where he's coming from, and I tried explaining to him that Mary was the same way, but he wouldn't have it. He ignored any mention of allowing us to treat him." Mom went on, eyes still on Ryan. "I need you to try everything in your power to get him to agree to at least try Chemo, Ryan, honey. I. . . I don't want to see this. I don't want him dying at my hands knowing I could have done something."

"I've tried." Ryan's voice caught in his throat. "He refuses. I've tried everything but I can't force him. He's eighteen."

"I'm assuming he probably left against medical advice." Mom rubbed her forehead. "I feel so incredibly helpless. I can't help him, guys, unless he's willing to help himself."

With that, my mom kissed my forehead and hugged Ryan tightly before stepping outside of the house and heading for our own. We watched after her in silence before Ryan looked down the hall, avoiding looking at me.

"You should head home too." He breathed, sounding so incredibly tired. I nodded to myself, starting to turn around, but stopped. I did the unthinkable then, I leaned forward and hugged Ryan Blake.

It may have been a little dramatic internally, thinking how I would have never done this months ago blah blah blah, but in that moment he looked so broken, so devastated, and helpless. He looked in desperate need of comfort.

He staggered a little, shocked by the gesture. He wiped his hands clean on a napkin from the table before hugging me against him, chin rested against the top of my head.

"Thank you." He kissed my forehead before releasing me and opening his front door. "We all need to get some sleep, Summers. We had a long day."

I agreed quietly and stepped outside the house. I started down the front steps, but stopped when I heard a loud noise from inside the house. I almost ran back up and in, but stopped when I caught sight of the commotion through the open blinds looking into the kitchen.

Ryan had either thrown or dropped a plate and was holding a fragment of it in between his index finger and thumb, blood trinkling down his wrist. He dropped it after inspecting it and buried his head in hands, completely blocking my view of him.

I stepped on to the hard pavement of the driveway, barely making it to my house next door and inside before tears started to break the surface. My stepfather was standing in the dining room with a cup of tea, eyes widening a fraction when he saw me.

"Oh, Zoey, sweetheart." He set his drink down and engulfed me in a bear hug, whispering everything would be okay in my ear.

I knew deep down that he was wrong, but I allowed myself to believe it then, even if it was just for a little while. I had to believe it. I needed to believe it.