The password had actually worked. So why was I here? At the aqua park? I should have just thrown away the ticket. But for some reason, I wanted to see the shark. I needed to see him. For all the time I’d spent trying to save him, I’d never actually visited him in the flesh. Probably because I was actually terrified of sharks. While some kids had gone through a shark stage when they were little, I thought even toy sharks were scary. And it was shark specific. I loved monsters and aliens. I wasn’t scared of a T. rex or the snow creature in Frozen. It was just sharks. One of the few memories I had of my dad was watching Jaws with him. When I was four. He said it was an old cheesy movie. He was a fucking idiot.
It was late afternoon on a Tuesday and the place was pretty empty. I hid my face in my hoodie, just in case they recognized me from the protest. Slinking past the gift store and the IMAX theater, I made my way through the aqua park, looking for the shark exhibit. I passed huge tanks filled with turquoise-colored water where schools of fish commuted in circles. An instrumental version of that Disney song, “Under the Sea,” murmured through hidden speakers. A trio of human-sized animatronic fish with smiling faces and top hats sang along to the song. I hated how these places always anthropomorphized the sea life. They couldn’t just be the magical and mysterious creatures that they were. They seemed to think they had to present them as human so we could relate to them. Couldn’t a fish just be a fish?
I followed signs of a bloody-toothed shark pointing the way, finally coming to the exhibit. The area was crammed with families, shrieking and shouting as they strained to see the great white. On the surface of the massive pool, a few surfboards drifted aimlessly, cheekily implying their riders had already been eaten. To one side there was an amphitheater-like viewing deck from where you could presumably see the iconic fin skulking, or if you were lucky, where the shark would burst out of the water for the terrified entertainment of children. Fear sold tickets. But I knew he was really just a rare, beautiful creature who needed to be free.
To one side a cave advertised the entrance to an underwater viewing area. It was decorated with more smiling fish. I entered a very dark hallway and the piped-in music became more ominous. Of course they had to make the shark a monster. That made keeping him in a cage easier. Oversized warning signs were plastered everywhere to underscore the danger. Finally, I emerged from the hallway into the Shark Zone. It was a massive glass wall that allowed a view into the special tank that connected to the open ocean. This was how they fooled everyone into thinking it was humane. The shark could look at the ocean that he would never be able to swim in.
I gawked into the dusky green tank to find him. Smaller fish, doomed to be his lunch, swam about anxiously. One school passed close by the glass and then darted away. Beyond them, floating bored in the middle of the tank, was the shark. He was even larger than I’d imagined, like a zeppelin in a bird cage. His two-toned gray skin looked weathered. There were small gashes on his fins. And he had that great white smile. The one that revealed a row of jagged teeth. The one that said he would enjoy eating you at any moment. The one that reminded me of Steve.
Steve.
Why had he given me the password? Why was he being so nice? What was this “favor”? What was I missing? Was he going to eat me?
I shook it off. He wasn’t a shark. He was just Steve. We’d hit the fundraising goal. There was nothing else he could do.
I refocused on the great white and how depressed he seemed to be as he lazily coasted toward the side of the aquarium.
“Hey, poor fella,” I said calmly, as if he could hear. “We’re gonna get you out of here.” I took a tentative step to the tank. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, is there?” I took another step. The way he moved was so effortless and confident. He knew his strength and how to use it. Kaia would probably like him. Especially if he had cancer.
Stop!
“You’re just a fish,” I reminded myself. “You’re not going to suddenly come around the corner and eat me, right?” I took a deep breath and absorbed the calm of nature. The way the water undulated. The dance of seagrass as it swayed in the tide. The white noise of distant crashing waves. The way the shark suddenly jerked toward me. His eyes wide! His power surging! His jaws agape! Grinning! Laughing! Plotting!
I stumbled away.
And fell ass backward over a toddler. The little boy screamed. The dad barked, “What the hell are you doing?” I scrambled to my feet and apologized.
“Shark!” the kid announced with delight as he pointed at the tank. Excited, he held up his own toy shark that he was definitely not afraid of.
A van that exclaimed “KYET—Ventura’s #1 Local News Team” was parked in front of our school. My mind raced as I tried to imagine how this was part of Steve’s “favor.” But it must be. The only other time we’d had a news van here was when Mr. Jenkins locked himself in the women’s locker room.
Walking into the quad, I came upon a crowd of students milling around a stage where a podium was set up. On the stage with his parents was Steve. In a suit. My prank radar was peaking.
“Oh great, you’re here,” said a heavily made up woman in a blazer, holding a KYET microphone. She grabbed my arm and led me forward. Steve waved to me and smiled.
“What is this?” I asked, but she was all business as she led me onto the stage. “You’re gonna stand on that X next to Steve.” We approached him. His face was inscrutable. I stood on the X and turned to Steve. “What are you doing?”
“Be chill. It’s a surprise.” He flashed that grin and a familiar vomit-like taste appeared in my mouth.
“Steve? Cam?” It was Kaia at the foot of the stage. “What’s going on?”
I shrugged. Steve smiled. “Get a spot in front.” She furrowed her brow. She seemed tired of Steve’s antics, too. But she went to the foot of the stage and waited.
Steve approached the podium and grabbed the microphone. “Hey, everyone. Thanks for being here today. Not that you have a choice. School and all.” The crowd laughed and a guy called out, “We love you, Steve.” Steve gave the kid a thumbs-up. With his bald head, Steve had an air of class to him that his swooping mop usually hid. “I have a little announcement to make.”
There was a gasp and a girl cried out, “Don’t die, Steve!” Kaia looked a little stunned.
Steve held up a hand to quiet her and continued, “I’m not dying.” There was an audible exhale of relief from the students. “Most of you already know that my cancer is highly curable and I’m down to my last round of chemo. And thanks to all you generous people”—he motioned to the crowd—“my girlfriend, Kaia”—he nodded to her—“and especially my good friend Cam”—he held his arm out in my direction—“my family has all the money they need to pay my medical bills and then some.” There was a burst of applause and some whoops. Kaia smiled at me and I tried to return it, still unsure where this was going. Steve’s voice then dropped lower and, with uncharacteristic sincerity, he explained, “But there are a lot of kids out there with cancer who aren’t as fortunate as me. I’ve sat in waiting rooms with them. Had chemo with them. I’ve learned a lot about how our medical system works. And how even if you have insurance, there are still tons of costs that don’t get covered.” The crowd had become silent. Kaia was looking up at Steve in a way I hadn’t seen before. Like she was seeing someone new. With a bright inflection, Steve then announced, “So with the extra money from Save Steve, I’ve started a new foundation: the Cam Webber Hero Fund.” I had heard my name but didn’t register it until I saw Kaia mouthing, “Oh my god.” The crowd burst into a cheer. “Cam Webber has been by my side. He has been steady. He has been brave. He has done things no person should ever have to do!” With each word of praise he gave me, I saw Kaia’s face soften. Steve turned back to me and flashed a toothy grin. “You deserve all of this and more.” He picked up a plaque that was on the podium and walked it over to me.
“Thanks. I . . . Uh . . .” I took the plaque, stunned. I could feel the news camera zoom in. He motioned for his p
arents to come over. They both hugged me, his dad a little too hard. I caught Kaia wiping away a tear.
“You’re welcome!” Steve said, and grabbed my shoulder the way a politician running for office would. He then turned back to the crowd. “Oh yeah, and before we get off this stage, one more thing.” He bounced up to the podium like Ellen DeGeneres and screamed, “CARDI B CALLED AND SAID SHE WANTS TO PLAY PROM!!!!!!!”
Pandemonium. Steve triumphantly raised his hands in the air. I saw Kaia say, “Holy shit!” And I felt the floor slipping out from underneath me. The crowd chanted, “Steve! Steve! Steve!” Steve surfed on their tsunami of excitement.
Then, just when things couldn’t get any more surreal, Steve jumped off the stage, right in front of Kaia. From absolutely nowhere, he produced a long-stemmed red rose. “Hey there, Kaia . . . ,” he said in his smokiest voice.
She blushed.
Uh-oh.
“I think you know what’s coming next.” On a little Bluetooth speaker, Jay-Z’s apology song to Beyoncé came on. Steve got down on one knee. Whoops and cheers came from the crowd. Kaia looked away, shy but smiling. “I know I messed up. And I know you got a little mad. But I’m sorry.” Kaia looked back at him, right into his super apologetic eyes. The entire student body melted. “I was kind of hoping, if you don’t mind going with a bald, disease-riddled cancer boy—”
“Steve . . . ,” she whispered.
“Who also happens to be a terrible dancer . . .”
“Stop . . . ,” she playfully objected.
“. . . you might go to prom with me?” He held out the rose.
She mooned over him and then nodded, too moved for words.
Steve teased, “I think the TV cameras need to hear you say it.” The crowd cheered in agreement. He held the mic up.
“Oh my god, yes. Yes!” The crowd had a collective fucking orgasm as Steve pulled Kaia close and kissed her.
I stood, holding my plaque. Helpless. Disintegrating. And then Steve pulled out the final dagger. He looked into Kaia’s eyes and, even though it was off mic and only for Kaia, I could clearly see he said, “I love you.” Kaia’s mouth slacked open. I could feel the emotion in her welling up. And I could see she was just about to say something.
But then Steve’s body became stiff. And Kaia’s swooning turned to concern. “Steve?” His eyes rolled back. “Steve?” The crowd gasped. And then Kaia couldn’t hold him, and he slid to the ground. “Steve!”
Steve’s dad jumped into action. “Someone call 911!” His mom followed and soon there was a crowd around him. I rushed to the end of the stage but couldn’t make out anything. “Get back, everyone. Get back!” Steve’s dad demanded.
I took a step back. Then another. Until I was invisible.
Moments later I was in the parking lot by the ambulance, waiting for Steve. I needed to see if he was okay. I hadn’t organized the event, but I felt somehow responsible. And so confused. Had he really made a fund in my name? Had he really been that thankful? Had he really changed?
There was a surge of activity and then I saw the medics rolling Steve on a gurney toward the ambulance. Kaia and Steve’s parents were close behind. I rushed over to him.
“Steve? Steve?” I pleaded, praying he’d respond, but he didn’t move. My heart slammed against my chest. Was he dead? “Steve . . .” Panic spread through me. Darkness. Void.
Just then, Steve turned his head to the side and opened his eyes.
“Thank god!” I exclaimed.
And then he . . . was that . . . did he just . . . wink?
I stumbled over a crack in the concrete. Hold the fuck on. “Are you faking it?” I said, still not really believing it.
Steve beckoned me to get closer and then he whispered, “You can’t beat the dying guy.” And then he winked again. My organs iced over.
The gurney stopped. And before I could form any words in response, Steve was shoved into the ambulance. He weakly raised his head and cried out, “Kaia!”
She scrambled into the back. “Steve. Oh my god. Steve. Shhhhh. I love—”
SLAM! The van doors closed.
Steve’s parents ran to their car and before I knew it, the ambulance was rushing away.
A few minutes later I hadn’t moved. Instead, I just stood there holding my plaque. And thinking about how right Patrice had been all along.
15
Shailene Woodley sat in her car and read the letter Ansel wrote before he died. Lying on the grass, her oxygen tube in her nose, she looked up at the stars and said, “Okay.”
Click.
Tears slid down Keanu Reeves’s cheeks as he stood alone in a park. Charlize was gone. She couldn’t bear to let Keanu see her die.
Click.
“I told you not to fall in love with me,” Mandy Moore whispered in the night. Then she got married and died.
Click.
I shoved my laptop off my lap and grabbed for another tissue. Dammit, Patrice was right. She was so, so, right. (I blew my nose.) A cancer love story was an unstoppable force. No one could resist the combination of true love and untimely death.
And you know who else knew that? Steve. Steve the faking fucking faker. He was like an evil version of that kid from my mom’s favorite movie—Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But instead of faking a head cold to get out of school, Steve was faking complications with cancer to manipulate Kaia.
Then it hit me. Ferris Bueller had only taken one day off. Was Steve going to fake these extra symptoms forever? How could he be Steve if he was always fainting and drooling and droopy eyed? How could he always be awesome? His plan was unsustainable.
I took a deep breath, blew my nose one last time, and told myself to stop worrying. Kaia was almost ready to break up with him that night on the beach. This was just the act of a desperate man.
The next day, I walked through the halls to my locker, head down, hoodie up. I wished I had some earbuds on me because the whole day, no matter where I went, there was only one topic of conversation.
“Dude, Steve looked like shit, man.”
“Did you hear? Steve’s on a feeding tube.”
“Kaia had to hold his hand all night.”
“He can’t even speak anymore. He just blinks in Morse code. And he only says one thing: ‘I love you, Kaia.’”
A guy from econ watched as I took a drink from the water fountain. When I finished, he came closer, put both hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eye, and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss,” then walked away.
“He’s not dead!” I called after him. “He’s fine. He was in the hospital for an hour and then went home! He’s playing video games right now!” But the guy had already disappeared down the hall. “Ugh.” I kicked the wall.
“Let me guess, everyone thinks Steve is dead.”
I turned. Kaia was holding a piece of poster board, her backpack slung over one shoulder. “You too?”
“I had three girls cry on my shoulder this morning because I’ll never love again.”
“Wow. It must be hard to realize that at only sixteen you’re basically a husk of a human being, facing an endless desert of sadness.”
“I bought a bunch of black lace veils on Amazon.” Kaia’s eyes danced with laughter and I relaxed, sensing that she hadn’t been taken in by Steve. She saw how ridiculous this all was. Her “I love you” had just been a heat of the moment thing. “Anyway,” Kaia continued, “I’m glad I ran into you. There’s something I want to ask.”
“Go for it.” She looked nervous. Was nervous good or bad? Good, right?
“I know it’s weird. We had that whole talk on the beach, but I was wondering if maybe . . . ?”
She mentioned the beach! This was definitely good. I tried my best to sound casual. “Yeah?”
“Kaia! There you are.” A skinny guy from student council came barreling toward us. I watched helplessly as Kaia turned.
“Hey, Cole! I got the poster board.”
No! No! The poster board can wait!
; Cole’s face fell. “That’s not poster board.”
“Yes, it is.”
Enough with the poster board! Let’s get back to the beach.
“No, it’s too thin. It needs to be thicker. It’s, like, you know, made out of . . . foam.”
I cleared my throat. “What were you wondering, Kaia? About the beach?”
Kaia tilted her head at Cole. “You mean, foam core?”
“Oh, is that what it’s called? Sorry, I told you the wrong thing. Can you get foam core?”
“Sure.” Kaia’s smile seemed a little strained.
“We need it by tonight. Thanks!” Cole bounced away. Kaia crumpled the poster board and threw it in the trash but then instantly regretted it. Pulling it back out, she mumbled to herself, “I’ll just glue some cardboard to the back after prom committee.”
“Just for the record,” I said, “I know the difference between foam core and poster board.”
Kaia laughed. “See, that’s why I like you.”
Oh my god, she said she liked me. I needed to get this back on track. “So . . . there was something you wanted to ask me?”
Kaia shook her head, remembering. “Oh, that’s right. I was just wondering, if it was okay with you . . .”
Anything she said would be okay with me.
“. . . and you could totally say no.”
Like I would ever say no to her.
“Maybe you could share Best Person with Steve?”
I’d never been punched, but I knew what it felt like now. Suddenly there was no air in my lungs. “Oh . . .” My voice came from somewhere far away. “The yearbook thing.”
“I feel terrible. I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything. You’re still really great. It’s just . . .”
“Steve.”
“Yeah. It’s just, the last twenty-four hours really changed things. I think I saw for the first time who Steve really is, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never met anyone more thoughtful or selfless.”
Not only had I been punched, now someone was taking a blowtorch to my face. At close range.
“Steve is selfless.” I thought if I said it out loud it would make sense. It did not. Somehow, in one pratfall, he had stolen my entire identity.
Save Steve Page 13