chapter twenty-two.
the brightest light.

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It took an hour for Edwin to wake up from his nap, and the moment he opened his eyes he looked around the room, as if he was searching for someone. Me, I thought as I stood up from the couch and walked towards him, he's looking for me.

When he finally laid his eyes on me, a smile broke out on his face and he let out a strained laugh and held out a hand, silently asking me to grab it. I did so and smiled back at him, glad that I would be able to talk with him.

"Hi," he said. His voice sounded tired and rough. "How—how long have you been here?"

"About an hour. You were sleeping."

"I was?" he wondered. "You could've woken me up."

I shook my head. "No. You need to rest."

He laughed again. "There'll be plenty of time to rest when I'm dead."

I stared at him, the smile wiped clean from my face. He was right, but it still hurt to hear him say it. His life was on a very short timer, and I didn't want to think about it.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing my sullen expression. He squeezed my hand.

"Don't say things like that." I told him.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He didn't look very sorry, but I couldn't blame him. Of course he'd be cracking dark jokes on his deathbed. "Wait—how long have you been here?"

I furrowed my brows. "What? You already asked that."

"I did? Shit." he laughed again. "Sorry. I'm sorta...loopy, and...confused. I don't know. Everything just feels weird and, uh, fuzzy?"

"It's okay."

He just kept looking at me strangely, as if he was fighting between loving my presence and also being confused as to who I even was and why I was there. It felt awful, but again, I couldn't blame the boy for anything.

"You know, you should kiss me right now." He said blatantly, blinking slowly.

I chuckled awkwardly, feeling embarrassed. "Your entire family is here. They just heard you say that."

Edwin shrugged the best he could in his weakened state. "Who cares? They don't, and I don't. So, you shouldn't either."

I just sighed and moved my head forward, pressing my lips to his. He kissed back, moving his hands to the sides of my face to pull me closer for just a few seconds before I pulled away, salty tears running down my face again.

"Why are you crying? Was the kiss that bad?" He grabbed onto both of my arms while he smiled at me.

"No," I said, tugging one arm away so I could wipe away my tears. "It was good."

"Good," he said, still grinning. "You know, I was wondering what you wanted to say to me at the park or whatever. You said it was secret and you were acting weird."

"That's not important right now," I told him. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Of course it does," he argued airily, a few of his words slurring together. "Did you somehow forget that every word that comes out of your mouth is important to me? Please, just tell me. I was really, really worried about you."

I glance nervously at his family members still in the room with us. I had no problem opening up with Edwin, but did I really want others knowing about my problems with my dad?

"If you're worried about my family knowing, it's okay," Edwin reassured me, as if he was reading my mind. "They don't care. Nathan would probably forget within twenty-four hours anyway."

"If you weren't literally dying right now, I would hit you." His brother spoke up from one of the plush chairs that was pushed against the wall.

Edwin laughed loudly at that, clutching his stomach. "Good one!" he finally exclaimed once he'd caught his breath.

"I'll tell you." I agreed. "Well, I guess, uh, my dad kinda found out we're dating. I mean, not really, he just thinks we are and I told him we're not but he still got really mad at me, and—and he's making me switch schools and stay away from you, I—I'm sorry," I spat out each word as quick as possible, my chest aching. "I should have told you sooner. I shouldn't have left you in the dark for so long. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize for anything," Edwin took a hold of my right hand and squeezed it. Tears sprang to my eyes. "I wasn't mad at you at all. I knew something was wrong and you didn't actually, well, mean to ignore me and stuff. I don't know if I'm making sense. Fuck."

I squeezed back. "It makes sense. It's okay."

"I don't know why everything feels so...wrong. I can't think properly," my boyfriend explained, glancing around the room. "It's only getting worse, and I'm—I'm scared. I don't like feeling out of control."

I took in a shuddering breath, struggling to not let tears fall from my eyes. I didn't know how to comfort him, to make it better. I wished desperately that I could take all his pain away and make the entire situation just disappear, to send us back to those days in the cafeteria eating together and talking about everything. I wished with everything that we could go back. I would have done anything to do just that. But there was no magic spell, no miracle coming to save the day.

Edwin was dying, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.

We spent the next two hours talking about random things, doctors and nurses coming in periodically to do things I didn't really understand. Part of that was my own fault though, as I quickly turned away whenever someone came in, as if looking away wouldn't make it real. I knew that it was pointless, but it still comforted me slightly, and that was enough.

At one pm, my phone began to ring, scaring the shit out of me. I excused myself and went into the hallway, my heart banging in my chest when I looked down at my phone in my trembling hands and saw that my dad was calling. Fucking hell, I practically screamed in my head. I don't need this right now.

I wanted to just ignore the call, but when I didn't pick up the first time, he just called again—and in between the two calls, I saw a few angry text messages from the man, asking where I was. I knew I'd need to pick up, to explain myself. I just didn't know what I would even say.

After a few more seconds, I finally managed to press the green button and I pressed the phone up to my ear, bracing myself for the screams and curses that would soon sound out from the device. And sure enough, it came immediately.

"Where the fuck are you?" my dad practically yelled. "Why didn't you answer my texts? You're not supposed to leave without asking."

"My friend is in the hospital," I started explaining. "It was an emergency. I needed to rush over here immediately."

"Who? How the fuck did you even get there?" he demanded, his footsteps loud enough that I could hear them through the phone. "I'm coming to pick you up."

"No! No," I refused. "Please don't come here."

"No? What the hell are you talking about?" he sounded genuinely surprised, and I was too. I had never stood up for myself like that in my life. 'No' was never an acceptable answer in my house when I was given an order by him or my mother.

"Please," I begged, tears falling down my cheeks. "I need to stay here. He's dying," I tried to hold my breaths as if it would help stop my crying, but it didn't work. "I can't leave him. I can't." I sobbed, clutching my phone tightly.

"Who? That Edwin kid?" He asked. My lack of a verbal response answered for me. "I told you to stay away from him." My dad warned, venom woven into his words.

"I don't care," I told him. "I love him! I'm not gonna sit at home all day while he's dying."

"Get home right now."

"No! Fuck you!" I yelled back, anger pulsing through me.

There was silence for a few seconds while I breathed in and out, my face red-hot and my entire body shaking. I didn't mean to say that, but I was just so angry. He hears that my boyfriend is dying and asks me to come home? I was done listening to him.

"Do whatever the fuck you want. You're dead to me, you little shit," and he hung up, leaving me standing in the hallway in complete silence. I didn't even notice Nathan standing a few feet behind me, at the door, until I turned around.

"Shit, man," he exclaimed, looking at me. "Who was that? Are you okay?"

I nodded. "My dad. He's just...a dick. He's mad that I'm not at home."

"I can take you back if you need me to, it's not a problem—"

"No," I interrupted. "I need to stay here. If I go home now, they'll never let me leave."

Nathan briefly hesitated before nodding. "Okay. Just tell me if you need anything."

Despite the circumstances, I smiled at him. "Thank you." For a moment I wished that I would've had a brother like Nathan. Life wouldn't have been so lonely and hard if I had someone else, much older and wiser than I was, to guide me along and support me as much as possible.

I followed the man back into the hospital room. Edwin had his eyes closed, which scared me for a moment until I noticed the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His mom sat beside him, holding onto his arm while she stared at the wall, her expression blank. I couldn't even begin to imagine what she felt, knowing one of her children was dying, that she only had an unknown amount of time left with him. She just held tight onto his arm, as if his life would end the moment she let go of him. I wanted to join her, to try our best to save her son, but I knew it wouldn't make his death come any slower.

I sat on the other side of my boyfriend's body, bile rising in my throat, the anxiety creeping steadily into my body making it hard not to throw up. The corners of Mrs. Zepeda's lips raised for barely a second as I sat across from her, afterwards the blank face returned once more.

When Edwin woke up again, it was a lot more obvious that things weren't going well for him. Somehow he seemed even paler, his breaths became more shallow, and every time he spoke, he made barely any sense at all.

I was practically shaking from anxiety, trying not to show it as Edwin played with one of my hands, a smile on his face as if he had no idea what was going on. Or maybe he just accepted it already, and didn't want to waste time being sad over something he couldn't change.

I looked up when the boy squeezed my hand several times while laughing. "I'm going to miss holding your hand," he said, staring into my eyes. "Though, I don't know, really, well, if I will remember you when I'm dead. Maybe I'll go to...heaven and look down at you? Maybe hell, since I'm gay and all that. Whatever, I can look up too!"

I wanted to laugh, but my heart was in too much pain to even fathom laughter. Instead I just stared back at him.

"Not funny? Okay." he turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling, breathing quickly. "I feel awful."

"I'm sorry." I said. I made eye contact with his mother, who still sat beside him. She quickly looked away.

"It's not your fault, my love," Edwin giggled, his eyes closing.

"Edwin, baby, please don't sleep right now, your doctor is going to be here any minute to check on you," his mom said, brushing her fingers across his forehead lovingly. When he didn't reply, her eyes widened. "Edwin," she tried again, shaking him lightly. Nothing.

The next five minutes were a blur.

I left the room, feeling lightheaded, my eyes burning with tears. I wandered down the hallway, trying to find a bathroom I could throw up in. I heard footsteps rushing into the room as I left it, screams emitting from Mrs. Zepeda. Arms wrapped around me as I wailed, ones I quickly recognized as Nathan's.

He brought me to the bathroom where I promptly threw up in the toilet, my entire body shaking profusely, my head pounding.

"He's dead," I sobbed, clutching my legs that I dragged up to my chest, leaning my back against the side of the wall.

Nathan sat beside me, hugging me close to his own body as we cried together, his head pressed tightly against my neck, mine against his.

The brightest light in both of our lives was gone.

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