by Cait Marie
Her words turned and twisted in his head as they drove to the hospital. They grew into dark, gnarled knots within him. Cancer. Tumor.
He couldn’t catch his breath or stop the tears from rolling down his cheek. No. Gavin slammed his hands on the dashboard. “No!”
His mom pulled into a parking spot outside the local hospital, cut the engine, then turned to draw him into a hug. He couldn’t remember the last time his mom held him while he cried. But she hugged him close, rubbing the back of his head while he sobbed against her shoulder.
After a few moments of silence, she said, “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go in.”
Gavin nodded. He took a deep breath and pushed his door open. The sunset turned the sky a dozen shades of pink and orange. Its beauty and peacefulness contrasted with the storm building within him.
Their footsteps echoed through the sterile, luminescent halls as Gavin and his mother made their way to Lila’s room.
“Gavin, Susie,” Mrs. Weston said, spotting them. She walked from the opposite end of the hall toward the same door with two coffee cups in hand. “Thank you for coming, but you didn’t need to close the Scoop down to be here.”
Gavin’s mom told her they did need to, but he could barely hear their words. He stared at the glowing light of a TV reflecting off the partially open door.
“You can go in. She’s awake,” Mrs. Weston said softly.
He met her eyes and nodded. When he still didn’t move, she led the way. His mother placed a hand on his shoulder with a sad smile before they followed.
“Susie,” Mr. Weston said, standing from a short blue chair next to the bed. He gave her a one-armed hug while grabbing a coffee from his wife. Then, he noticed Gavin, whose eyes stayed on the petite figure sitting in the bed, and indicated his vacant seat. “Why don’t we give you two some privacy?”
Gavin stood still as their parents left him and Lila staring at each other. The wires and hoses connected to her made his knees weak. The world shattered around him.
“Are you just going to stand there all night?” Her quiet, teasing tone snapped him back, and he let out a breath that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
He walked closer and sat on the edge of her bed, ignoring the open chair. He hesitated before reaching for her.
“It’s okay,” she said. “You won’t hurt me.”
He wrapped her up in a hug, holding her close. “Are you in pain?”
“No, not really,” she said. “Not anymore.”
“Lila.” He leaned back to see her face. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have—”
“That’s why,” she cut him off with a sigh. “I didn’t want you to treat me differently. I wanted to check off everything on my list and just not think about it for a little while.”
Gavin placed a palm on her cheek. She covered his hand with her own, leaning forward to brush her lips across his. When she laid back against her pillow with a smile, his heart fluttered.
“The headache I had yesterday didn’t go away. I kept telling myself it was a normal hangover, but it just got worse. Last night, I started running a fever and had to come in to be monitored.”
He nodded, unsure of what to say. “I’m so sorry. Running around yesterday, and then with the rain… did I make this worse?”
“No.” She slid over in the bed to make room for him. After he sat beside her, she whispered, “It’s operable. I’m having surgery in a week.”
“That’s why you needed to finish the list in two weeks,” he said, putting an arm behind her head as she leaned into him. “Is this why you’re not going to Bennu anymore?”
“Not really. I will always love music, but it’s not what I want to do with my life.”
“You don’t want to sing?”
“I do but not professionally.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I just… I don’t want to leave Summersville, and I would have to for any big music career.”
Gavin thought about that as he kicked off his shoes and pulled the blanket over his lap. For years, Lila only spoke of escaping their small town. She’d wanted to live in a big city as a singer or Broadway star. He didn’t know why that had to change. If the tumor was going to be removed, and she would be fine, why couldn’t she still do that?
“Lila, what is the surgery you’re having?” When she didn’t comment on his change of subject, his chest tightened.
“The tumor is laying against my frontal lobe.”
He looked down at her, wishing he’d paid more attention in health class.
Tears brimmed her eyes, and her quiet voice shook as she continued, “There’s a chance the surgery will permanently damage my memory.”
His breath caught. What did that mean? “How much… what part of your memory?”
He didn’t know much more than the basics of the brain’s functions, but she said the doctors would be more sure when they went in, and there was a chance it could be her long-term memory. He couldn’t breathe. The pressure around his chest grew.
“You might forget me?” he finally managed to ask.
“Yes.”
14
Tuesday
Bright light filtered into Lila’s room as someone slid the curtains open. She yanked the blankets up over her head and rolled to her side, putting her back to the window. Behind her, the bed dipped down.
“Mom, not today,” she groaned. “My head is killing me.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” a voice that most definitely did not belong to her mother said. He quickly got off the bed and went to close the curtains.
When he returned, she moved to her back. “What are you doing here?”
Gavin sat beside her, the image of relaxation. His hands clasped behind his head, where he leaned against the headboard, and his ankles crossed out in front of him. Everything about his pose screamed nonchalance, but there was a tension there as well. She could see it in his shoulders—in the way he looked down to where she laid on her pillow.
Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. She tried to hide the wince of pain, but he saw and immediately reached out to help her. They’d released her from the hospital that morning. The fever had gone down a couple hours after arriving Sunday evening, but they’d kept her an extra thirty-six hours to make sure it stayed level and to help ease her pain.
“I’m fine,” Lila told Gavin, leaning in close. The door opened, startling them both apart. With a hand to her heart, she yelled, “Mom!”
Her mom chuckled but came in and turned on a small lamp. Balanced on one hand was a small tray with two of everything. The smell of French toast made Lila’s mouth water. As her mom placed the tray on the bed, she asked, “Did you take your medicine?”
Lila looked down, shaking her head. “Not yet.”
Gavin’s fingers gently covered hers. Even after everything the past couple days, the touch still surprised her.
Her mom smiled. “Well, there’s food for both of you and some juice. That’ll help with the nausea.”
“Thanks,” Lila said.
“I’m home for the day, so let me know if you need anything.” She kissed the top of Lila’s head and started to walk away. At the door, she paused, turned, and gave them a pointed look. “Keep the door open.”
“Mom!” Lila hissed.
Gavin chuckled at her side. “Will do, Mrs. Weston.”
Satisfied, she left them alone. Lila covered her heated cheeks with her palms, refusing to look back around. Gavin stood to get under the covers then pulled the tray to his lap. She finally faced him and rolled her eyes at the smirk waiting for her.
“Shut up.” Grabbing one of the forks, she cut off a piece of French toast and jammed it in her mouth. Around the food, she said, “You never answered. What are you doing here?”
“Can’t I just come to visit?”
She raised a brow at him, trying to fight a smile.
He sighed. “I thought maybe we could check something off the list.”
Lila swallo
wed. “I’m not feeling up to an adventure today…”
Grinning, he reached over and grabbed the controller from the nightstand. “Which is why I thought it would be the perfect day to stay in bed and watch movies.”
Gavin couldn’t focus on the movie. It was their third or fourth of the day—he wasn’t even sure what number they were on. The singing animated characters could not hold his attention. Not while he sat in bed holding Lila. He’d dreamed about moments like that for years.
“Stop staring at me,” she said without taking her eyes from the TV.
He saw the corner of her mouth quirk up, and he leaned forward to kiss it. She turned, holding his gaze for a long moment before pulling him close once more. As she tugged him over her, sliding down in the bed to lie flat, he froze. He hovered above her. Her bright blue eyes stared up at him with her pink hair flared out across the pillow. That was all he’d wanted for so long.
But he couldn’t move.
The image of her in the hospital bed flashed through his mind. She wasn’t sick at that point—she’d said she felt better—but he still saw the exhaustion. The fear. She’d looked small and vulnerable, and he hated it. He hated the amount of pain she’d lived with the past few months. The thought of her upcoming surgery twisted his stomach into knots.
“Gavin?”
He wanted to kiss away the worry lines and the slight frown forming. He wanted to hold her against him and never let go.
Instead, he pushed himself back to his knees. Her eyes widened a fracture, and the hurt that ran through them tore at his heart. She sat up, not speaking. They stared at each other for a long, silent moment.
“This is why I didn’t tell anyone.” She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away.
The guilt struck him hard. With gentle fingers, he tilted her chin back up to face him. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers once before pulling back. Still holding onto her, he said, “I have wanted this—you—for so long. That hasn’t changed.”
“Then, why?”
He heard the unspoken words. Why was he pulling away? Why kiss her when a future might not exist for them? So many questions lingered between them.
He let go to sit back on his feet. Only inches separated them, but it felt like an entire chasm had opened up in front of him. He knew that if he leapt to close the distance, he would fall too far into the deep, dark depths. It was too easy to love her—he always had—but where would that leave them? In less than a week, she might not remember him.
With a sigh, he shoved a hand through his hair and whispered, “What if you forget?”
Because that was a very real possibility. He’d heard it from her and then again from her parents. The surgery could take it all away, and he didn’t know if he could handle losing her a second time. Not like that. If he let her completely in and showed her just how much he cared, it would destroy him to not see any recognition in her eyes.
He pulled back farther. She didn’t need to answer—she knew the likelihood. She understood the fear without him saying it. He saw it in the way her gaze softened.
It was too much. All of it was too much.
Gavin stood from the bed, frantically looking from her to the bottle of pills on her bedside table. He took a step back and stumbled over the small trash can her mother had placed on the floor next to the bed “just in case.” Because the pain often made her nauseous, as did the medicine. There was no getting around feeling sick it seemed.
He gulped down a breath, shaking his head.
Lila moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Please don’t do this.”
Her words gutted him. He knew he didn’t have a right to react that way. The surgery would save her life. The possibility of losing her memory was worth the risk, but that didn’t make it easier.
“I just need…” What did he need? He didn’t know. To scream? To punch something? “Time. I just need some time.”
“Gavin,” she called as he turned and ran out the door.
He didn’t stop. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the Westons’ living room and hesitated. Lila’s Mom looked up in alarm from her spot on the couch. She started to rise, but he didn’t wait for her to speak. He bolted out the door.
He stormed across both front yards until he was back in his own house. His mom shouted his name, but he ignored her. He quickly made his way up to his room and slammed the door shut before toppling face first onto his bed. He grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, trying to let out the hopeless frustration building up inside.
A knock sounded on his door, but he didn’t move. He heard it open, then the bed shifted beside him.
“It’s going to be okay,” his mother said, running a hand through his hair.
He turned to face her. “But what if it isn’t?”
She seemed to think about it for a moment. Her shoulder dropped as she exhaled. “Then, you start over.”
His brow scrunched as her words processed. Start over. He sat up, holding the pillow in his lap. “What?”
She nodded. “Just because she might forget the past doesn’t mean there can’t be a future.”
He let out a breath as his vision blurred. It hadn’t occurred to him that if she didn’t remember him, they could just start over. It didn’t have to be the end. Even if they were just friends, he’d take it. As long as she was in his life.
A thought struck him. “You knew.”
His mom nodded.
“How long have you known?” Then, another realization hit. “That’s why you wanted me to work with her.”
With a sigh, she pulled up one knee to turn toward him more. “I found out about six months ago, shortly after the test results.”
“Six months?!”
She plucked the pillow from his lap and hugged it to her chest. “They caught it early. It’s small enough that it’s not doing damage other than causing headaches, which are mostly under control. She started chemo over Christmas break, trying to avoid an invasive procedure, but she had a bad reaction to it. Well, worse than normal. It’s rare, but apparently it does happen. They did some more scans and determined surgery was the best option. It will be fairly easy to remove. The biggest risk is her memory, so she begged them to wait until after graduation.”
Each word twisted his insides more and more. He covered his face with his hands and let out a frustrated groan.
“It wasn’t severe enough that waiting a few months would cause more damage. She’s been going to get scans every other week since then to keep an eye on it. Other than the headaches, it hasn’t progressed. The pain only just started getting severe, but the surgery is already scheduled. They didn’t see an immediate need to bump it up a few weeks unless they couldn’t get it under control.”
The headaches. He’d seen her rubbing her temple throughout the last week, but he assumed it was just a tick of hers—something she did when tired or annoyed with him. He never expected she was in actual pain. She even brushed off her headache in Chicago like it was nothing.
“You had me start working with her on purpose. Did the other girls really quit?”
“No, they’re on vacation. They’ll be back in a few days.”
“But you’re training Kaley?” He stood from the bed, unable to look at the guilt filling her eyes. His voice dropped. “She’s Lila’s replacement.”
“It was her idea. The job will still be there for her if she wants it.”
Gripping the ends of his hair, Gavin leaned against the corner of his dresser. His hands fell to his sides as he asked, “So why send me in there to work with her?”
“Did you know that when you were five years old, you told me you were going to marry her?” He shook his head, and she smiled before continuing, “You were born just three days apart and introduced a couple weeks after that. We used to lay you together in the crib or on the playmats. You’d nap side by side.”
He knew all that. He’d seen all the photos, and they’d heard the story countless times growing up.
“When you were about four months old, there was one day Lila woke up and started crying. She woke you up, but instead of joining in, you reached your little hand over to grab hers.”
Gavin crossed his arms, failing to hide his smirk.
“You held onto each other, and Lila stopped crying,” she said, rising from the bed. She moved to stand closer. “You held on to her, and you’ve never let go. You’ve always known what she needs—how to make her happy.”
His shoulders dropped. “You think she needs me to let go?”
“No, Gavin.” She gripped his wrist. “Hold on. You need to hold on tighter than ever. Don’t let the fear of the future hinder your time together. Talk to her.”
She patted his shoulder twice before leaving him alone. He thought about her words, knowing she was right. That was why Lila had the bucket list after all. She had such focus on the future that she forgot to live in the present.
Gavin pulled out his phone and sent a text to Lila. He apologized and told her he’d see her the next day. Then, he created a group text without her.
Gavin: Hey guys, I need your help.
Lila’s Summer Bucket List
Sleep under the stars
Attend a party
Get a tattoo
Use fake ID to sing karaoke in a bar
Stand under the lights on the football field
Go on a date ❤️
Sneak out of the house
Visit the baby goat farm
Go to Chicago
Midnight swim
Spend a day in bed watching movies
Stay up to watch the sunrise
❤️ Be kissed in the rain
Run through the halls of the high school
Conquer a fear
Paintball