And then, one magical day, her doctor came out, and he said that he saw no problem with me going in with them. I knew Julie had pushed this, even if her mom didn't seem to have a problem with it.
I thought about how strange that was. In the movies, parents always seemed to hate the boy that was going out with their daughter, and when something bad happened, they tried to push the guy away as much as possible, because they were protective over their daughter.
Julie's parents weren't like that. They wanted me around, and they seemed to accept me as Julie's boyfriend (the word was still strange. Boyfriend. Julie's Boyfriend).
Her mom actually squeezed my hand once, while we were waiting, and gave me a comforting smile. I knew I had to look like a nervous wreck.
Julie was the only one that never looked worried. While they were running numerous blood tests, or testing her for anything else, wherever else, she looked strong and determined.
It was Mrs. Michaels and me that looked like insane patients.
And then, we were sitting in the small room, waiting for the doctor. Two chairs, one for Julie, and one for Mrs. Michaels, and then the large, oak desk.
“It's always bad when you have to go to the doctor's Office,” Julie said softly. “Isn't it?” she asked, looking to her mom.
“Or extremely good news. He could have found a donor,” she said. I tried to hold to that thought, though Julie looked unaffected. It was the first time I saw her look worried.
A few minutes later, the doctor came in. He was a tall guy, about six three, and he towered over my short Julie. He looked nice enough, even with his Abraham Lincoln beard.
“Good morning,” he told us, shaking each of our hands. He sat down behind his desk, and he laid his folder against the desk. I knew that look, because doctors had given me the same look over the years.
I stood behind Julie's chair, bracing myself against the back. I was hoping for good news, but I felt the same pessimism as Julie. Even when her hand reached behind her and touched mine, I knew we were both expecting the worst.
And then, he looked up, and he drew in a deep breath. “Things don't look good,” he said.
It was then that my ears did what they did best, and blocked out his words, and returned to Julie. I saw her below me, sinking into the chair. I felt the way she had tightly gripped my hand as he said those words.
Things don't look good.
I didn't need to know that. I already knew that. I needed to know, and Julie needed to know, that we had a chance. It was all we needed. Just one ray of sunlight to prove we could still fight this.
And then, he said it, but Julie didn't realize it. She still looked lost, but I thought I might have been found.
“-bone marrow transplant looks like our only option for recovery, and even then-”
“We haven't been able to find a match. None of us were,” her mother said to him, her voice desperate.
“What are the chances that someone outside the family is a match?” I asked. The doctor and Mrs. Michaels turned to me, staring at me as if I was crazy.
The doctor cleared his throat and shook his head. “They're very slim-”
“Falon.”
“I need numbers, doc,” I told him, cutting him off and ignoring Julie. Her voice had been small and meek, but I had heard it, and she knew I had. She knew it.
“I don't have numbers. There aren't any exact numbers for that. But, it's possible. You just need to be checked to find out,” he said.
“How would I do that?”
“Falon.”
“You'd pay to have it done. They'd see if you were a match and then go from there,” he replied.
And if I'm a match, it would help Julie?” I asked.
“Falon!” Julie yelled, and stood from her chair. She was shaking, and she held my eyes angrily. “Stop it!” she demanded.
I shook my head. “I won't. There's nothing wrong with at least seeing if we coul-”
“No,” she said immediately.
“What's wrong with trying, Julie? You need it, and if-”
“No,” she said again, this time, more vehemently.
I wanted to shake her, but she looked determined. She looked to the doctor rather than meet my eyes again. “Tell him the risks. Tell him the risks if he's a match,” she told him.
The doctor folded his hands. “There are risks of complications with the anesthesia, like with any surgery. There's also a chance of nerve damage when we extract the bone marrow from you. Of course there's pain that can stick around longer than normal. There's also chances of muscle and bone damage, but they're rare,” he said.
“And, there's a chance it could not work too. There's a chance that my body can not accept it,” Julie told me.
I furrowed my brows. “And there's a chance it could work. I don't see why you won't at least let me see if I can help you,” I asked her.
She shook her head. “I refuse. I won't let you do it, and I won't accept it. I'll wait for another donor,” she said.
“They have the same risks,” I told her.
She looked up, and I saw the real fear. The fear she was truly feeling. She shook her head, and met my eyes. “They're not you.”
♥
The outcome was bleak. We walked out of the doctor's office with him telling them what they expected to hear. Chemo and radiation could be tried, but they wouldn't have much of a chance of making a difference.
I drove behind them, until they got home, and then continued on to my house. Julie texted me that she was going to bed, which I knew was code for she wanted time alone.
She knew I was right. That was why she was mad. The chances of us being a match were slim to none, but miracles happened all the time. We could have a chance, and she was unwilling to risk it.
The complications after surgery weren't a big deal. I knew all of the risks were minimal. I would be willing to risk everything for a possibility that I could save her.
I drove home, and went inside. Ava was on the couch, watching a movie with Jesse. I only call him that because the guy isn't leaving. I think he's one of the good guys.
He did help get my truck.
“What's wrong?” Ava asked immediately, and they muted the movie. I hadn't realized that beneath my eyes felt wet, and hot.
I ran my hand beneath them, and sure enough, there were tears. Clear, hot water on my burnt hand, standing there without movement. Still waters, against burnt flesh.
“Julie,” I said.
Ava stood, her hands going to her mouth. Jesse stood behind her, placing his hands against her shoulders to steady her. I wished someone was there to steady me.
“What did they say?” she asked.
The world started spinning, and I knew if I didn't sit down, I might pass out. I walked to the chair, sitting down and holding my head in my hands so I didn't have to see their concerned faces.
And then I told them. I told them about chemo not doing any good, and her only chance being a bone marrow transplant. I told them how I wanted to get tested, and Julie put her foot down.
Ava looked somewhere between horrified and confused. She squeezed Jesse's hand for support. “If she doesn't find a donor-” she stopped herself, and I saw her trying to hold back the onslaught of tears that threatened to slide down her face.
“I'll lose her,” I finished for her, running my hands over my head. The thought made me angry, and depressed, and I wanted to hit something all over again.
Jesse held my sister, and he looked at me with those parent-like eyes. There was something strange in seeing him that way, but he had somehow taken the role in stride, and it didn't seem weird anymore.
“Even if you do get tested, there is a very small chance that you could be a close match. The odds are crazy,” he said.
I laughed bitterly and stood. “You think I don't know that? That's not the point. There's a chance. That's all I need, just a chance, and Julie refuses to even entertain the idea,” I told him.
He nodded, and
looked at me sympathetically. “I know. She was too young to tell her parents 'no' when she was first diagnosed. I was the one that tested them, and they were so upset when neither of them were a match,” he told me.
Biological was always at a greater chance to match. I guess that was one of those things you just knew.
“Even Liam got tested, but he wasn't a match. Most people just refuse to pay to get tested unless a family member is in need of a donor. Julie's match could be anywhere out there,” he replied.
From a doctor's point of view, I'm sure that gave him hope.
From my point of view, knowing that in every other aspect of life, Julie was my perfect match.
Why not bone marrow too?
♥
“Can I speak to Falon?” I heard her voice say, and I got from my bed. I went to my door to see Mrs. Michaels standing at our front door. She looked distraught, despite being in her hospital scrubs, and both Ava and I seemed to arrive at the same conclusion.
“Did something happen to Julie?” I asked, coming out of my room.
Mrs. Michaels saw me, and she shook her head. “No, not that. Hilary and Liam were with her when I left,” she replied.
“Then what's going on?” Ava asked. I came to her side, as she moved to allow Julie's mom to come inside our house. She looked older, and scared, but I saw something else too.
Determination.
“Did Falon tell you about what the doctor said?” she asked, and Ava nodded.
“Yes, and I'm so sorry. If there's anyway I can help-”
“Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to Falon about,” she replied, and looked to me.
For a moment, I expected that she might pull the 'parent hate boyfriend' routine, but there was a different expression on her aged face. She looked almost. . . helpless.
“Were you serious today? About donating?” she asked.
I held no hesitation as I nodded. “Yes ma'am. I'd do it in a minute,” I told her, and she nodded.
“What about now that Julie said no?”
“Doesn't change anything.”
She looked relieved. “So, if George and I pay for it-”
“I'll do it.”
Ava watched from the sidelines, and she suddenly gave me a weary look. “Are you sure about this, Falon? Isn't it risky?” she asked.
Mrs. Michaels looked like she might speak for me, but I looked to Ava and shook my head. “Not too bad. And it doesn't matter anyway. You would do it for me,” I told her.
She knew I was right about that one.
“Besides, it's just a test,” Mrs. Michaels replied. “He's most likely not a match since he's not family.”
But. . .
That was all that mattered. That one, singular injunction.
But.
I could be.
♥
I told Julie nothing of this. She would have killed me. The next morning, early, I went to the hospital, and they drew blood and cheek swabbed, and then, after everything was done, they sent me on my way.
I could tell Ava was worried, but I tried to assure her as much as possible that everything would be okay. It really wasn't a big deal.
♥
I went to the Michaels house a few days afterward, still waiting anxiously for the results. I ate dinner with them, played video games with Liam, and then, I went upstairs.
Julie hadn't been down all night, and though I had been dying to go up and see her, I knew she needed rest, so I stayed back. I tried to just be with her family, and Hilary, who came later and stole Liam for herself.
It was after her dad nudged me toward the stairs that I finally went up to see her. I was still worried that I might wake her, but when I creaked open her door, she was awake, and she was crying into her pillow.
“Julie?” I asked, coming the rest of the way in. Her room was dark, and cold, but I could see Julie, curled up in her blankets, clutching her pillow and sobbing.
She turned her face toward me, and then returned it back to the pillow. I went to her as fast as my legs would carry me, and quickly grabbed her in my arms.
And she cried. She cried against my chest, and she hurt. I could feel her pain, and I could see the small purple dots along her arms and chest. I was sure there were more on her stomach. The bruises caused by my tickling.
And I said nothing, because I knew what she was feeling. I just held her, because sometimes, that's all you can do.
♥
That night, I stayed, and Julie feel asleep with tears still in her eyes. I held her the entire night, and slept little. Mostly, I stared at her, and tried to commit everything to memory.
I memorized each tiny freckle on her face, the ones that were light and pink across her nose. I ran my fingers through the strands of spun gold in her hair. I traced her mouth, her nose, her neck, every part of her, felt like a part of me.
She was me, and I was her. I would love her no matter what happened. She knew that, and I knew that, because this didn't come often. Soul mates were hard to find, but they were out there, and the time that came when you might lose them was not something easy to get through.
I loved her, and she loved me. That would never change.
I would stay here for as long as she needed me, holding her and loving her.
♥
It wasn't until the next week that the doctor called Julie. We went to the appointment, but I already knew what he wanted to talk about. I just needed to hear the result, and I would deal with Julie later.
She was getting worse. She was taking chemo, and radiation, and she told me that it always looked bad before it cleared, but I wasn't accustomed to seeing Julie so frail.
She had lost weight, so much that she looked too small to hold to me. I was always afraid I might crush her, or break something, though she would laugh at it.
She needed a transplant. She was dying in my arms.
And then the words came out, and we all stared at him.
“You're sure?”
“It's not a strong match, but it is a match,” he told us.
Julie smiled. “You found a donor?” she asked.
The doctor nodded. “There's still a risk that your body could reject it, but it's the best we got. It's the closest we've gotten to a match for you,” he told her.
That was when Julie looked at me, and she knew what had happened. She stood from her chair so fast it scared me and her mom. The look of fury she held was terrifying.
“How could you?” she said to me, and her body was quaking in anger. “How could you go behind my back-”
“I told him to,” her mother said, and for a moment, Julie turned her anger to her.
“So, everyone has just been keeping quiet about this all week? Everyone has just been waiting to hear if the lying and backstabbing paid off?” she asked.
“Julie-”
“No, Falon. You lied to me,” she said, looking at me again. “You sat there and lied to me. You went behind my back, and didn't care about what I wanted!” she said, and started to leave. When I tried to stop her she pushed me away and disappeared.
Her mother looked distraught, but it was Julie I was worried about. Julie and her dizzy spells, and her headaches, and her fainting in the middle of traffic.
I ran out behind her. She had already pushed through the doors to the waiting room, and I saw her going outside. I called her name, but she didn't stop. She looked like a woman on a mission. A fragile Cinderella running away before the clock turned twelve and turned all the glimmers into pumpkins and mice.
I came outside, having to block my eyes from the momentary blindness the sun had caused. It's heat was evident, and gave me yet another reason to find Julie.
She was walking out of the parking lot, on the sidewalk. She moved with a fierce determination, and was not slowing down, especially for me. She was headed somewhere.
“Julie!” I yelled, and picked up my pace. She didn't stop, and she didn't speed up. Instead, she chose to completely ignore me. She kept wa
lking along the sidewalk, and pretended I wasn't there.
I ran toward her, finally catching up with her moderate pace. I reached out to grab her hand, the make her stop, but she snatched it away and kept walking.
“Julie, I'm sorry!” I pleaded, watching her face. It remained impassive, and unchanged. “I only want to help you,” I told her.
“Help me?” she said, laughing bitterly. “Helping me would be listening to what I want. Not going behind my back and doing whatever you and mom or dad think is best for me.”
I furrowed my brows, her words rubbing me the wrong way. They sounded an awful lot like she was ready to go, and that particular thought sent chills up my spine.
“Why don't you want my bone marrow? You looked happy when he said it, until you found out it was mine,” I asked her.
Julie stopped walking. I did too, and I watched her. She finally turned her face to me, and I saw a mixture of anger and sadness, and confusion. Julie looked ready to explode.
“What if they're right, and your bone marrow works. There's a chance that my body could reject it, and then that leaves us right back here,” she said, holding out her arms, as she shook her head. “And then, there's always the risk that you could get hurt, and I couldn't live with myself if something went wrong and something happened to you.”
“Nothing will happen to me,” I stressed to her, holding her hands instantly.
She shook her head. “That's not the only thing that scares me. I know you're probably going to hate me when I say this, but a part of me wonders if maybe things would just be easier if I was to stop trying and just die,” she replied, and she wouldn't meet my eyes this time.
It was probably just as well, because her words felt like arrows shooting straight through my chest, where I would have placed my soul. The pain was terrible.
“Easier?” I questioned. “For who? Me? Because without you here, I'm nothing, Julie. Just an empty shell, and you know that,” I told her. I wished I could have erased the anger in my voice, but that was impossible. Her words pushed me over the edge.
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