This is kind of short and it's unedited. But I like writing it so I hope you like reading it!

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I’m lying in bed in a too large shirt, reading when my door opens. I don’t look in the doorway, recognising the footsteps easily. They’re not dads; his are heavy ones, loud enough to be heard even on carpet. Ricks are softer but more constant; his legs are, after all, smaller than the rest of us. But mums are soft and light. That’s how I know it’s her as she steps closer to the bed. My machine beeps right by my ear, the rhythmic beeps anything but calming.

               “Hey, Ally,” I hear softly, before her weight settles next to me, the bed shifting slightly.

               “Hey, mum,” I whisper back, putting the book aside. “What are you doing?”

               She grabs the book out of my hand, studying it. “Talking to my daughter. This again?”

               “Favourite book ever mum; what do you expect?”

               She continues to study it, turning it over. A beautiful cover stares back at me, vibrant and bright, simple yet perfect. “It looks okay. Is it romance?”

               I roll my eyes, taking it back. Carefully setting it on my bedside table, I turn back to mum, propping my elbow under my head. Re-arranging the chords, I move them so I don’t cut off circulation. It’s the last thing I need. “Yeah. Sappy, beautiful romance that I’ve explained to you before.”

               She smiles, leaning against the headboard. When I put my head in her lap, her hand reaches out and strokes my hair. “I know. But I’m trying to get somewhere.”

               And I don’t want to talk about it—well, there’s a part of me that does but it’s tiny. “Uh huh. How’s your hand?”

               She laughs. “Diverting the conversation. Nice. And, if you must know, your father made me put ice on it when we got home. See?” She waves it in front of my face and I wipe away the drop of water that falls onto my face.

               “Guilty as charged,” I say, staring at the aqua roof. It had taken some convincing but eventually I’d convinced dad to let me paint them aqua—though I hadn’t painted any of it. I’d wanted to but dad hadn’t let me. Before the makeover they’d been white and I had to change that.

               Mum runs a hand through my hair, tugging on the end. “So, who’re you going on a date with?”

               I roll my eyes. “What’s happening to the principal?”

               I know I’ve achieved victory when she sighs. “Your dads handling it. He’s police, he’ll know how to deal with it. Probably a law suit. I don’t know for sure though, I just want to put this behind me. You don’t have long left; you deserve that time stress-free.”

               “Okay.” I fall silent, closing my eyes. The rhythmic strokes in my hair is better than any lullaby. I can fall asleep when someone’s playing in my hair and I’ve always been able to.

               “So, you’re date. Who is it?” How tense she suddenly is doesn’t escape me.

               “He’s not a drug dealer or anything. He’s safe,” I reassure, relaxing in her lap. It’s times like these when I can forget about the cancer all together. Right now, I can just be a normal teenager trying to avoid a conversation about boys with parents. The word dying doesn’t factor into it slightly.

               “He’s not safe until I say he is,” she says, hand running through my hair again. “When’s the last time you washed this?”

               “This morning. And he’s sweet mum. We’re friends.”

               She clearly doesn’t believe me, but I can’t expect anything else. I’m still a teenager, I still lie—about things that are minor. “Yeah and how do you know this?”

               “I’ve been texting him.”

               “He gave you his number? That’s what your father did when we first met. Are you sure you’re not dating?”

               I cross my heart, rearranging the tubes when one falls loose. “Yeah. We’re not. I have no interest in hurting someone like that. What’s the point of falling in love with someone only to have them disappear? It’s just cruel.”

               Her voice is a sad whisper when she says, “You deserve love, sweetheart. More than anyone else. So, if you like this guy, ask him out.”

               I stare up at her, wondering if it’s really my mum that I’m talking to. “Who are you? When I imagined this conversation I pictured a whole lot of yelling and arguing. Not this. Even dad seemed fine with it.”

                She frowns at me, her blue eyes the brightest thing in the room. “I can’t restrict you. You have to live before you . . .”

               Aren’t here anymore to do it, I add silently.

               She shakes her head, forcing a smile. “You want this date. You can go.”

               I raise my eyebrow. “Did dad tell you where it is?”

               “No, should he have?”

               Probably, considering you’re about to change your mind. “The museum. In the city.”

               She blinks at me, before glaring. “No. I change my mind. I’m not letting you into the city. Do you know how crowded it is? And you can’t spend a day walking around! You’re not going. If he wants to take you somewhere it’s not going to be an overcrowded city where you can get hurt.

               I sigh. And here’s the hard part. “He knows I’ll have to take my oxygen machine. He’s cool with it.”

               Mum laughs cynically. “Cool with it? When he has to walk around, accepting the stares because of you, he’ll be signing a different tune.” She blinks, before she looks at me apologetically. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not an embarrassment—”

               I clasp her hand in my hair, smiling at her. “I get it. I know you don’t think that. And he’s fine with it. We’ll be the odd people in the crowd; we’re both aware of it.”

               She frowns. “Why?”

               “He’s deaf, mum.” I quirk an eyebrow, winking. “Quite the pair aren’t we?”

               She stares at me, eyes wide, for the longest time. “He’s deaf?” is all that escapes, as if the news changes everything.

               I nod. “Yeah.”

               “Oh. Uh . . .” Abruptly, she laughs. “Well there goes all the threats I was going to make. How’d you two meet.”

               I choose my words carefully. “After the incident, he was sitting on his own. I approached. We talked. The rest is history.”

               She shakes her head. “Now I feel awful.”

               “He’s not invalid mum. He just can’t hear.”

               She nods, forcing a smile. “Okay. How old is he?”

               “My age,” I tell her, glad it’s the truth. Otherwise she’d flip out.

               “Okay. So yes to the date. But no to the city.”

               “Mum—”

               She glares at me. “I’m not letting you catch the train.”

               “Someone’s driving us,” I say, even though the words do nothing to relax her.

               “Who?”

               “His brother.”

               “His adult brother or immature teenage brother?”

               “Adult,” I say, though it sounds like more of a question than anything.

               “You sure?” she demands.

               “Yes.” To my annoyance, it doesn’t sound like I’m sure at all.

               She stares at me, eyes burning with overprotectiveness. “I’ll be talking to this boy. And if I don’t feel safe with you in a car while he’s driving, you’re not getting in it. Your dad and I will drive you.”

               Well, won that be awkward? “Mum, I love you, but—”

               She stands, walking to the door. “No buts.”

               When she’s gone I just stare at the wall, before taking out my phone.

               To James:

                              So, museum is a no right now but I’ll convince them. And your brother better be an angel when my parents meet him because otherwise they’ll be driving us.

               He responds ten minutes later—and, yes, I stare at the clock waiting.

                              I’ll tell him. And I won’t be able to hear what they’re saying—that’s a bonus.

               I respond, smiling.

                              You better. My dad can be scary.

               I read the reply.

                              I will promise. My brother is cool. Looking forward to meeting him ;) Goodnight, CG. Keep me updated.

               I reply before placing my phone on top of The End of Us.

                              Night DG.

               Then I fall asleep as soon as my head hits and pillow and my breathing machine is turned off and out of the way.

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~ Littlemissflawed