Five Feet Apart

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Five Feet Apart Page 17

by Rachael Lippincott


  She pulls the panda out of her jacket, holding it up. “Abby gave this to me for my first hospital trip. I’ve had it with me every time since.”

  I can see her, young and small and scared, coming into Saint Grace’s for the first time, clutching that ratty panda bear. I laugh, clearing my throat. “Well, that’s good. ’Cause I didn’t want to have to tell you that a third boob’s a deal breaker.”

  She glares at me, but it gives way quickly. She tucks the panda back inside, sitting up to zip the coat back up.

  “Let’s go see your lights,” I say, standing. She tries to join me but jerks back to the ground. Kneeling, I see that the strap of her O2 concentrator is caught on a root. I reach out, taking the strap off it, and hold out my hand to help her stand back up. She takes it and I pull, her body swinging up, the motion moving her inches away from me.

  I look into her eyes, the air coming out of our mouths intermingling in the small space between us, doing what I know our bodies can’t. Behind her I see our snow angels, a perfect five feet apart. I let go, quickly stepping back before the dizzying urge to kiss her overwhelms me again.

  We keep walking, finally making it into the park and to the giant pond, the lights just a little bit farther. I watch as the moonlight glints off the frozen surface, dark and beautiful. Looking back, I see Stella breathing heavily, struggling to catch her breath.

  “You okay?” I ask, taking a step closer.

  She nods, looking past me and pointing. “Let’s take a breather.”

  I glance behind me to see a stone footbridge, turning back to grin at Stella’s pun. We walk slowly toward the small bridge, edging carefully along the shoreline of the pond.

  Stella stops short, her foot reaching slowly out to touch the ice, and she gradually puts more and more weight on it, testing it out beneath her shoe.

  “Stella, don’t,” I say, picturing her going clean through it into the freezing water beneath.

  “It’s frozen solid. C’mon!” She gives me a look. The same look I’ve seen all night tonight: brave, mischievous, daring.

  Reckless comes to mind too. But I push that aside.

  If this is all we get, then let’s take it.

  So I take a deep breath, taking her challenge, and grab her hand as we slide onto the ice together.

  CHAPTER 23

  STELLA

  For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel sick.

  I grab on to Will’s hands as we slip across the surface of the ice, laughing as we struggle to keep our balance. I squeal as I lose mine, letting go of his arms so I don’t drag him down with me, and I fall hard on my butt.

  “You good?” he asks, laughing harder.

  I nod happily. Better than good. I watch as he takes off at a run, whooping as he slides across the ice on his knees. Watching him makes the hurt from Poe less blinding, filling my heart up to the brim, even though it’s still in pieces.

  My phone rings in my pocket, and I ignore it like I have for most of the day, squinting into the distance at Will as he skitters across the pond. The phone finally stops, and I slowly stand, but then it starts chirping loudly, texts coming in one after the other.

  I pull out my phone, annoyed, looking down to see my screen filled with messages from my mom, from my dad, from Barb.

  I expect to see more messages about Poe, but different words jump out at me.

  LUNGS. THREE HOURS UNTIL THEY ARRIVE. WHERE ARE YOU???

  Stella. Please reply! LUNGS ARE ON THEIR WAY.

  I freeze, the air sucking straight out of my current shitty lungs. I look across the pond at Will, watching as he spins slowly around and around and around. This is what I wanted. What Abby wanted. New lungs.

  But I look across the pond at Will again, the boy I love, who has B. cepacia and will never get the opportunity in front of me.

  I stare at my phone, my mind whirring.

  New lungs means hospital and meds and recovery. It means therapy, and potential for infection, and enormous pain. But, most important, it means I’d be apart from Will now more than ever. Isolation, even, to keep the B. cepacia far away from me.

  I have to choose now.

  New lungs?

  Or Will?

  I look up at him and he smiles at me so wide that it’s not even a contest.

  I shut my phone off and launch myself across the ice, sliding and skidding my way over, before crashing at full force into him. He grabs on to me, barely managing to hold on and keep us from slamming into the ice.

  I don’t need new lungs to feel alive. I feel alive right now. My parents said they wanted me to be happy. I have to trust I know what that is. They’re going to lose me eventually, and I can’t control that.

  Will was right. Do I want to spend all my time left swimming upstream?

  I push off him and try to spin, throwing my arms out, my face turned toward the starry sky. Twirling around and around on the slick ice, I hear his voice.

  “God, I love you.”

  The way he says it is so soft and real and the most wonderful thing.

  My arms drop and I stop spinning, turning to face him, my breathing coming in short gasps. He holds my gaze, and I feel the same pull I’ve always felt toward him, an undeniable gravity that dares me to close the gap between us. To step across every inch of the five feet.

  So this time, I do.

  I run to Will, our bodies colliding, our feet giving way as we tumble to the ice, laughing as we land together. I pull his arms around me, resting my head on his chest as the snow falls around us, my heart beating so loud, I’m almost sure he can hear it. I look up at him as he leans in. Each magnetic breath he takes pulling me closer.

  “You know I want to,” he whispers, and I can almost feel it. His lips meeting mine, cold from the snow and the ice, but absolute perfection. “But I can’t.”

  I look away and rest my head on his coat, watching the snow fall. Can’t. Can’t. I swallow the familiar feeling that pulls at my chest.

  He’s silent again, and I feel his lungs rising and falling underneath my head, a sigh escaping his lips. “You scare me, Stella.”

  I look up at him, frowning. “What? Why?”

  He looks into my eyes, his voice serious. “You make me want a life I can’t have.” I know exactly what he means.

  He shakes his head, his face somber. “That’s the scariest thing I’ve ever felt.”

  I think back to when we met, then him teetering on the edge of the roof.

  He reaches out, his gloved hand gently touching my face, his blue eyes dark, serious. “Except maybe this.”

  We’re silent, just looking at each other in the moonlight.

  “This is disgustingly romantic,” he says, giving me a lopsided smile.

  “I know,” I say. “I love it.”

  Then we hear it. Criiick, crack, crick. The ice groans beneath us. We jump up, laughing, and scramble together, hand in hand, to solid ground.

  CHAPTER 24

  WILL

  “What’s your dream place to live?” I ask her as we walk slowly back around to the footbridge, her gloved hand resting inside of mine.

  We wipe away the fresh snow on the bridge’s railing and hop up, our legs swinging in time with one another.

  “Malibu,” she says, setting the oxygen concentrator next to her as we look out at the pond. “Or Santa Barbara.”

  She would pick California.

  I give her a look. “California? Really? Why not Colorado?”

  “Will!” she says, laughing. “Colorado? With our lungs?”

  I grin, shrugging as I picture the beautiful landscape of Colorado. “What can I say? The mountains are beautiful!”

  “Oh no,” she says, sighing loudly, her voice teasing. “I love the beach and you love the mountains. We’re doomed!”

  My phone chirps, and I reach into my pocket to see who it’s from. She grabs my hand, trying to stop me.

  I shrug. “We should at least let them know we’re okay.”

  �
�Some rebel you turned out to be,” she fires back at me, trying to snatch my phone from my hand. I laugh, freezing when I see my screen filled with texts from my mom.

  This late at night?

  I pull Stella’s hand off to see every message is exactly the same: LUNGS FOR STELLA. GET BACK NOW.

  I swing my legs around, jumping up, excitement filling me from head to toe. “Oh my god! Stella, we have to go right now!” I grab her hand, trying to pull her off the railing. “Lungs—they have lungs for you!”

  She doesn’t budge. We need to get back ASAP. Why isn’t she moving? Doesn’t she understand?

  I watch her face as she stares off at the lights, completely unfazed by what I just said. “I haven’t seen the lights yet.”

  What the fuck?

  “You knew?” I ask, shock hitting me like a tractor trailer. “What are we doing out here, Stella? These lungs are your chance for a real life.”

  “New lungs? Five years, Will. That’s the shelf life on them.” She snorts, glancing over at me. “What happens when those lungs start to fail? I’m right back to square one.”

  This is all my fault. The Stella from two weeks ago would never be this stupid. But now, all thanks to me, she’s about to throw everything away.

  “Five years is a lifetime to people like us, Stella!” I shout back, trying to get her to see. “Before the B. cepacia, I would’ve killed for new lungs. Don’t be stupid.” I pull my phone out, starting to dial. “I’m calling the hospital.”

  “Will!” she shouts, moving to stop me.

  I watch in horror as her cannula tubing catches again on a gap in the stone footbridge, her head jerking back as she loses her balance. She tries to grab the slippery railing ledge, but her hand slides right off and she goes plummeting down.

  I try to grab ahold of her, but she slams onto the ice, landing on her back, the concentrator landing with a plunk next to her.

  “Stella, shit! Are you okay?” I shout, about to launch myself over the side to her unmoving body.

  And then she starts laughing. She’s not hurt. Oh, thank god. She’s not hurt. I shake my head, relief filling my chest.

  “That was some—”

  There’s a loud crack. I see her scramble, but there’s no time.

  “Stella!” I call out as the ice shatters beneath her, sucking her in, the dark water swallowing her whole.

  CHAPTER 25

  STELLA

  I thrash, icy water all around me as I try to swim to the surface. My coat is so heavy, the water clings to it, dragging me farther and farther down into the deep. I frantically unzip it, starting to slide out of it when I see Patches, floating away. My lungs burn as I gaze up at the light from the hole that I fell through, the thin cord from the oxygen concentrator a guide to the surface.

  But then I look over to Patches.

  My body sinks deeper and deeper, the cold pushing the air out of my lungs, bubbles pouring out of me and up to the surface.

  I go for the panda, reaching desperately for him, my fingertips grazing his fur. I cough, the last of my oxygen leaving my body, my head pounding, and the water fills my lungs.

  My vision blurs and darkens, the water changing in front of my eyes, slowly morphing into a black sky, tiny pinpoints of light appearing.

  Stars.

  The stars from Abby’s drawing. They swim toward me, surrounding me, and circling all around me. I float among them, watching as they twinkle.

  Wait.

  This isn’t right.

  I blink, and I’m back in the water, strength filling my body as I pull with everything in me back to the top. A hand reaches out to me, my fingertips wrapping desperately around it as I’m heaved effortlessly out of the water.

  I lie there, gasping, and sit up, looking around.

  Where’s Will?

  Reaching up, I feel my hair. Dry. I touch my shirt and my pants. Dry. I lay my palm flat on the ice, expecting to feel the cold. But . . . nothing. Something is wrong.

  “I know you miss me, but this is taking it a little far,” a voice says from beside me. I look over, taking in the curly brown hair, hazel eyes identical to mine, the familiar smile.

  Abby.

  It’s Abby.

  I don’t understand. I throw my arms around her, hugging her to make sure she’s real. She’s really there. She’s—wait.

  I pull back and look around me, at the frozen pond, at the stone footbridge. “Abby. Am I . . . dead?”

  She shakes her head, squinting. “Eh . . . not quite.”

  Not quite? I am so happy to see her, but the relief at her words overwhelms me. I don’t want to die yet.

  I want to actually live my life.

  We both hear a splash somewhere in the distance. I turn, looking for the source of the sound, but don’t see anything. What was that noise?

  I strain my ears and that’s when I hear it, like an echo, somewhere in the distance.

  His voice.

  It’s Will’s voice, ragged, coming between sharp, shallow breaths. “Hold on, Stella!”

  I look at Abby, and I know she hears it too. We look down as my chest starts to slowly expand and fall, expand and fall, over and over and over again.

  Like I’m getting CPR.

  “Not . . . now. Come . . . on, not now. Breathe,” his voice says, clearer now.

  “What’s happening?” I ask her, watching as the view in front of me starts to slowly change. Will. His silhouette begins to form, close enough to touch.

  He’s leaning over a body.

  My body.

  I watch as he shivers, coughing, his body swaying as he starts to collapse. Every single breath is a struggle, and I watch as he gasps for air, trying desperately to fill his lungs.

  And every breath he gets, he gives to me.

  “He’s breathing for you,” Abby says as my chest expands again.

  With each breath he blows into my lungs, the view in front of me grows more and more vivid. I can see his face turning blue, every breath painful.

  “Will,” I whisper, watching as he struggles to push the air through my body.

  “He really loves you, Stell,” Abby says, watching. As the scene sharpens, she fades.

  I turn to her, frantic, feeling again the loss that keeps me up at night. The unanswered question.

  Abby smiles at me, shaking her head, already far ahead of me. “It didn’t hurt. I wasn’t scared.”

  I take a deep breath, letting out a relieved sigh that I’ve been holding for more than a year now. My chest heaves suddenly, and I begin to cough, water pouring out of my mouth.

  I watch as my body, just a few feet away, does the exact same thing.

  Abby smiles wider now. “I need you to live, okay? Live, Stella. For me.”

  She starts to fade and I panic. “No! Don’t go!” I say, grabbing on to her.

  She holds me tight, hugging me close to her, and I can smell the warm, flowery scent of her perfume. She whispers in my ear, “I’m not going far. I’ll always be here. Just an inch away. I promise.”

  CHAPTER 26

  WILL

  My throat is on fire.

  My lungs are done.

  One more time. For Stella.

  “Not . . . now. Come . . . on, not now. Breathe,” I beg her, the cold pounding at my body as I hold her face in my hands, pushing all my air into her lungs.

  It hurts so bad, I can hardly stand it.

  My vision begins to fade, black swimming in from the edges, slowly overtaking everything until all I see is Stella’s face surrounded by a sea of black.

  I have nothing left to give. I have nothing left to—no.

  I straighten, desperately pulling in one more short breath, knowing deep in my chest that it is the last breath I will ever get.

  And I give it to her. I give everything I have to her, the girl that I love. She deserves that.

  I push every bit of air in my body into her lungs, collapsing on top of her, no idea if it was enough, hearing the sirens of the ambulance
I called blare in the distance. Water trickles over my head as my hand finds hers and I finally let the darkness consume me.

  CHAPTER 27

  STELLA

  I feel something pricking at my arm.

  My eyes fly open, my head spinning as my vision slowly comes back, bright lights overhead. But not the holiday lights, wrapping beautifully around the trees in the park. They’re the fluorescents of the hospital.

  Then faces block them.

  Mom.

  Dad.

  I sit up, pushing out from under the blankets, and look over to see Barb. She’s standing next to the ER nurse, who is drawing blood from my arm.

  I try to push the nurse’s hands away, try to get up, but I’m too weak.

  Will.

  Where is Will?

  “Stella, calm down,” a voice says. Dr. Hamid leans over me. “Your new lungs—”

  I rip the oxygen mask off, looking for him. Dr. Hamid tries to get it back over my face, but I turn away, squirming out of her reach. “No, I don’t want them!”

  My dad wraps his arms around me, trying to get me to settle down. “Stella, calm down now.”

  “Honey, please,” my mom says, grabbing my hand.

  “Where is Will?” I cry out, but I can’t see him anywhere. My eyes scan frantically, but my body gives up, falling weakly back onto the gurney.

  All I can see is his body slouched over mine, all of his air given to me.

  “Stella,” I hear a weak voice say. “I’m here.”

  Will.

  He’s alive.

  I turn my head toward the sound of the voice, my eyes finding his.

  We can’t be more than ten feet apart, but it feels farther than ever. I want to reach out, to touch him. To make sure he’s okay.

  “Take the lungs,” he whispers, looking at me like I’m the only one here.

  No. I can’t. If I take the lungs, I will outlive him by close to a decade. If I take the lungs, he’ll be more of a danger to me than ever. They won’t let us in the same zip code, let alone room. And if I got B. cepacia after I got the healthy lungs all CFers want? It’d be wrong. It’d be devastating.

 

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