Always and Forever (24 page)

I cleared my throat, drew in a shuddering breath before barreling on. “I kept telling myself that I'd find some way to end things, make it look like some silly accident, and when each one failed, I told myself I'd just end it with you, sever that relationship before I went. That way it wouldn't hurt you so much when I finally did die. But each time I started to do just that, I'd find some new reason not to. ‘
In a little while’
, I'd tell myself. Like I was just delaying some tedious chore, and not a matter of life…well, in this case, death.”

Still, he said nothing.

“I hurt you,” I whispered, cringing a little as the muscle in his jaw started jumping even more erratically. “I didn't…well…I didn't handle things the way I probably should have. I just…I don't know what else to say here, Kal. I'm sorry. So terribly sorry. For everything.”

“Well,” he laughed bitterly, his face twisting into a cruel smile. “That is probably the best apology I've ever heard. Let me just fall all over myself as I forgive you for every single shitty thing you've done to me. Now that I know you're sorry, well, we can just pick up where we left off. Oh, wait. What was I thinking?” He smacked his palm against his forehead. “I forgot. You're dying. Not only that, but you're hell bent on killing yourself before the cancer can get you. Well, sweetheart, if that episode in the hall is any indication, you really don't have all that much time left. I suggest you don't waste it here, talking to me.”

I reeled back, the pressuring exploding in my chest as if he'd physically hit me. This…this bitter boy wasn't my Kal. My Kal was made up of gentle words, easy smiles, and thoughtful gestures. This cruel, dark Kal, with all his harsh tones and verbal daggers was one that I created. Me. I did this.

I'd single-handedly destroyed the only purely good thing I'd ever known.

Slowly, I nodded, accepting my fate to die with his anger, his hurt, plaguing my every step. My shoulders drooped under the weight of that knowledge. “I understand,” I whispered. I shoved up to my feet and headed toward the door.

“Mia, wait.”

I whirled around, hope and giddiness spinning through me. Joy stealing my breath, but in a good,
heart's on fire
kind of way. “Yeah?”

He stood up, grabbed the gift and took a step toward me, his arm extended, holding the box out to me. “You forgot this.”

“I…” I shook my head, the tears redoubling their effort to spring free. “But it's yours. For your birthday.”

“I don't want it,” he ground out. “It'd be wrong of me to accept something from you. We're not even friends anymore.”

Shot straight through the heart. A sucker punch to the gut. Agony ripped through me, and before I could stop it, a single drop leaked free, sliding down my cheek, a silent confirmation of just how
badly I'd fucked things up. Again. “I don't want it back, Kal,” I told him, tiredly. “I don't care what you do with it. Open it. Throw it away. Burn it. Just don't ask me to take it back. Please.”

He considered me for an endless moment. Then, he flung his arm out, shooting the box across the room, where it landed unerringly in the trash.

He didn't say anything more, and neither did I. Really, I just had to get out of there and fast. I refused to let him see me cry, and one tear had already fought its way free. More were likely to follow close behind.

I turned on my heel, and chin in the air, I walked out of his bedroom, out of his house, and out of his life. Not once did I look back.

The front door banged shut behind me. As I stepped onto our walkway, my foot skidded on a slick patch of pavement. I stopped, frowned, and made a mental note to come out later with a bag of rock salt.

Even though I'd promised myself I wouldn't do it, I found myself darting a quick look up at Kal's room. He wasn't sitting at his window any longer. Good, because the tears were sliding copiously down my face. I couldn't have stopped them if I'd tried.

I gave myself a mental head slap and started walking again, a little slower this time as the path was iced over pretty good. Only two steps away from my front door, I looked up again.

In that same second, my foot came down on a particularly slick spot, my heel sliding out from under me. For a long moment, I just hung there, suspended in mid-air. Flashbacks from that morning in the basement crashed into me as I landed flat on my back, my head thwacking against the concrete with a sickening crack.

Everything slid sideways, the world turned itself upside down. The pain was everywhere, but mostly it was right there at the back of my skull, screaming at me that
now, I've done it this time
.

This was so different from the basement. This time, it felt real, like I'd actually done what I'd wanted to do back then. But now, I wasn't ready to die. I still had things to say, to do. Please don't let me die just yet. Please. I'm begging here.

Just a few more minutes. Just a few more hours. Just a few more days.

Please. I just needed a little more time. But the second hand of my life was gleefully racing around the clock, flicking off every last moment so much faster than I was ready for.

Darkness closed in. My body was sinking, sliding beneath tons of wet cement, all of it weighing me down. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't escape.

Please…just a few more minutes…

PART FOUR: DEPRESSION

T
WENTY
-E
IGHT

I CAME AWAKE BY SLOW, UNEVEN DEGREES
, the steady beeping of a monitor dragging me to the surface. Pain washed over me even before I could summon the strength to open my eyes. A low, desperate moan sounded, and it took me a moment to realize that that pitiful noise had risen out of me.

My eyes fluttered open, the room fuzzily sliding into focus after an endless moment. Ben looked up from the magazine he had lying open in his lap and scooted forward, reaching out to me.

“You're awake,” he said, master of stating the obvious.

“Yeah,” I breathed, struggling to get up. “I am.”

He snatched up the bed controls and fiddled with the buttons a second before the bed angled upward, doing for me what I couldn't seem to do for myself. “Better?” At my nod, he dropped the controller onto the bed beside me, and scooted his chair closer. “You scared the fuck out of me, Mia,”

His word choice startled a laugh out of me, the sound of it clanging around painfully inside my head. “Watch your language, mister,” I scolded him, rubbing at my throbbing temple. “Mom hears you talking like that, she's going to go ballistic.”

“Like she doesn't know who I learned it from,” he shot back, an impish grin riding his lips.

“Yeah, well, I'm older. Where are Mom and Dad, anyway?”

“In the hall…talking to Dr. Shreve.”

Oh, shit
. “Ben, listen, I—”

“You're dying,” he interrupted. “Yeah, I know already.” He laughed a bitter, hollow-sounding noise that cut through me, razor sharp, slicing the skin from my bones with little effort. “I've known for a while now, Mia.”

My head snapped up at that. “You have?”

He nodded, all traces of the smile he'd displayed moments before now vanished, only to be replaced by overwhelming sadness and hurt. “Since Christmas. I heard you and Mom fighting, and I knew. I've just been waiting for you to tell me yourself. I figured you probably had a reason for not saying anything, so…” He didn't finish the thought. He really didn't need to.

“Ben,” I whispered, reaching out for him. Tears sprang up, choking the air from my lungs, and for a terrifying second, I wondered if this conversation with him was headed in the exact same direction as the one with Kal. Honestly, it would be nothing less than I deserved for lying to him, but the agony of it all still rippled through me. “I'm so sorry, Benji. I just…I—”

His fingers found mine, slid up my palm to circle around my wrist, and then he pulled himself up into the bed beside me, curling into me like he used to do when I was sick before. “I know,” he whispered, sniffling back tears of his own. “I mean, it sucks that you didn't tell me yourself, but I understand why you did it. If it was me, I probably would've done the same thing.”

“Really? You're not mad?”

He just shrugged. “Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that, Mia. I mean, look at all the time that's gone by,” he whispered, agony filming over his every broken syllable. “Time that we'll never get back, but that doesn't matter now.” He burrowed further into my arms; his body shuddered with great, wracking sobs. “But right now is all that matters, and I'm not going to spend the months you have left being mad at you, not when I know I'll be losing you soon.”

“Oh, Benj,” I murmured, tears sliding down and off my cheeks to mingle with his as I hugged him close. “When did you get to be so wise? You're like a guru or something.”

He snorted out a laugh, one that shook his whole body and pounded into mine, bringing with it the warmth and happiness of better times. “Yeah, that's me. Guru Ben.”

Small smile tipping up the corners of my lips, I leaned back and pushed his hair off his face, dark curls springing back into place before I even pulled my hand back. “You need a hair cut.”

“Mom was going to take me tonight, but well…”

Cringing at his stricken look, I pulled in a deep breath. “Did you see me fall, Benj?”

Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded. “It was really scary, Mia. All that blood from where you hit your head, and then you wouldn't wake up. You didn't come around until the ambulance was almost to the hospital, and then all you could say was
‘Kal’
.”

“Did he see?” Of course, he saw. He'd have to be deaf and dumb—not to mention blind—to be completely unaware of what happened.

“He's the one who called the ambulance for me…and Mom and Dad. I was a little freaked out. I wasn't thinking clearly.” He swallowed visibly. “But don't worry. I told them your fall was from the ice and nothing more, but…” He darted a quick look over his shoulder toward the hallway. “They insisted on calling Dr. Shreve in.”

“They're just worried,” I offered up, lamely.

“Ben, hospital beds were made for one person, not two,” Dad growled as he entered the room. “And, you better not be lying on top of your sister's IV.”

“It's okay, Daddy. Look.” With my IV-less arm, I hugged Ben tighter while I waved the other in the air. “It's completely fine and in perfect working order.”

“And, it needs to stay that way, princess,” he countered, his voice gentling for me, the dead child. “Ben, up.”

Expelling a loud, mournful sigh, Ben crawled out of my arms and shoved up to his feet. “I'm going to go get a pop. You want one, Mia?”

“Thanks, Benji,” I smiled and lifted my arm up to wave the IV line. “But I got my own.”

A laugh jumped out of him, and he shook his head. Then, mumbling an apology to Dad, he turned on his heel and exited the room.

Thick, tense silence descended as I waited for Mom or Dad or even Dr. Shreve to drop whatever bomb they had hiding behind their backs. “Okay,” I sighed, long and loud. “Lay it on me. How bad is it?”

“Mia,” Mom began. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she moved to my side. “You could've been seriously hurt—”

“I'm fine, Mom,” I hurried to assure her. “The path was slick, and I fell. That was all. It had nothing to do with the cancer. I promise. It was just bad luck. I don't see why you should be so upset. If I wasn't dying, we'd all be—”

“That's just it,” Dad cut in, his voice a strange mixture of anger and fear, one that was so at odds with how I always thought of my father, strong and unperturbed. “Any injury, no matter how small, could turn disastrous. You have to be more careful, Mia, or we could lose you.”

“You're already going to lose me,” I muttered, sadness coating my words. But it was the truth. We all had to deal with it, right?

“Well, this may be a hard concept for you to grasp, princess, but we'd like as much time as we can possibly get with you, surly attitude and all.”

“I-I'm sorry,” I whispered, tears reaching up and choking the life out of me. Of course, they wanted more time with me. Only a supremely selfish jackass wouldn't see that. “I just…it really was an accident. I didn't try to hurt myself.”

“Oh, Mia.” Mom folded her arms around me, pulling me in close to where it was safe, where no monster dared to go. “We know that, honey. We're just worried, is all. What if Ben wasn't home when you fell? Or, Kal for that matter? What if you'd been all by yourself when it happened?”

“But I wasn't.”

“And, you won't ever be again,” Dad interjected, all firm words and commanding tones.

“But Dad—”

“Mia,” Dr. Shreve finally stepped in. She'd been so quiet, watching our by-play, that I'd almost forgotten she was there. Almost. “The severity of your condition is worsening every day. As time goes by, you won't be able to do even simple tasks for yourself. It's the nature of the disease.”

“I didn't get dizzy and fall, Dr. Shreve,” I told her. “The damned walk was icy. Anyone would've fallen, not just living dead girls.”

“That may be true,” she replied, evenly, completely unruffled by my snotty tone. “But the living dead girls need to be extra careful.”

“Fine,” I gritted out, pushed myself fully upright, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “I'll take your damned babysitters, if that's how you all want to spend the rest of my life. I promise you it won't be very entertaining.”

“Mia, honey,” Mom chided gently. “Now, don't be like that. We're not trying to punish you. We just want you to be safe.”

“I said it's fine.” I pinned Dr. Shreve with a frigid glare. “Can I go home now? Or are you going to tell me I need someone to wipe my ass, too?”

“Amelia Elizabeth Gordon!” Mom exclaimed, horrified.

Dr. Shreve just shook her head, her lips twitching like she was fighting back a grin. “I'd like to keep you overnight for observation, Mia.” She raised a hand, effectively halting any arguments I might have conjured up. “The MRI showed a small amount of swelling, which is consistent with a concussion. We require all patients—whether they were the picture of perfect health before the injury or not—to stay for at least twelve hours for monitoring.”