The Last First Game

by Gina Azzi

  I shake my head.

  “I got through it. Mind you, not alone. My family, they were a true pillar of strength. Now that’s support. You can’t get through this alone. Sometimes I was downright nasty with them, but they never gave up on me. I got through it and I’ll tell you something, coming out on the other side, I realized I could do any goddamn thing I wanted. That’s the thing with being scared, really scared shitless. It makes everything clear to you. Your priorities, your goals, how you want to live your life. And it gives you the realization that all of it, any part of it that used to seem unfathomable, it’s all within reach. Anything you want to do after this, anything you want to be, even a professional football player, you can do it. Trust me, ten, this will be one son-of-a-bitch lesson. But you will be tougher, smarter, and stronger because of it.” He sighs, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “You need anything these next few months, and I mean anything…” he levels me with his stare again “…you know where to find me. Don’t worry about the rest of them.” He waves toward the door to my room, indicating the other guys in the house, other members of the team. “They may seem unsure around you now, may treat you differently, not know how to act, what to say. They’re scared for you. And most of them, not all, but a lot of them, they’ve never been scared shitless. They’ve never had to deal with the raw realness of any of it. But you need me, I’m here. Got it?” His eyes penetrate me, looking right through me into my very core. Stay hungry. Stay focused.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He pats my shoulder as he stands up, his body creaking with age.

  “We’ll do this again when you’re on the other side.” He smiles suddenly. “Except then we’ll do it over a beer. I’ll even let you know my favorite kind.” His eyes crinkle. The entire team has been guessing his drink preferences for years.

  I laugh sincerely. “Deal.” I reach my hand out and he shakes it. “Thank you, Coach.”

  “Good luck, ten.”

  He doesn’t look back and the door closes softly behind him.

  * * *

  Today I start chemo. I’m not really sure what to expect, and I’m astonished when Lila offers to come with me. As does Miers. And Hendrix.

  In the end, I feel most comfortable with Lila, and I’m not quite sure why that is. Anyway, she’s sitting next to me as I pull my truck into the hospital parking lot. I reach over and palm her thigh and she smiles at me. It’s a natural smile, not a trace of pity evident, and I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

  I shoulder the bag I packed as we enter the hospital doors. Lila added some last minutes items, but I packed the practical things: Huntington’s book, my laptop, and a hoodie.

  She places her tiny hand in mine, and I squeeze gently. A silent thank-you.

  I register at reception and am quickly escorted to meet my oncology nurse, Amanda. Her eyes are warm as she shakes my hand. She runs me through the plan for today: a brief physical check, a blood sample, the chemo. She hands over a stack of papers to read and sign, and I’m grateful when Lila accepts them, sticking them into her shoulder bag. I smile, remembering the first time I ever saw her, struggling to haul her over-packed bags around the airport.

  Amanda checks my blood pressure, writes down my height and weight, takes a vial of blood. An hour later, I’m sitting in a comfortable chair, having an IV connected to the central venous catheter the doctors implanted into my chest before I left the hospital.

  Lila sits by my side and quietly reads her Kindle as I turn the pages of The Soldier and the State. But I’m not reading. I’m barely even seeing the words that cross the pages. After re-reading or re-looking at the same paragraph for the fifth time I sigh, already restless and ready to go.

  I lean forward to take the stack of medical papers and Osteosarcoma literature from Lila’s bag, but she stops me. “We can read that another time. I have a better idea.”

  “Really?” I ask, somewhat exasperated.

  She reaches into the bag and removes a deck of cards and a plastic bag of quarters. “You think you can beat me?” Her left eyebrow rises slyly.

  “Texas hold ’em?” My eyes widen in surprise.

  “I’d play you for clothes.” She glances around surreptitiously. “But we might get kicked out, and I can’t have that on my conscience.”

  I laugh, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness, her resourcefulness, her refreshing sense of humor. The guy next to me scowls in my direction.

  “We’ll have to play for quarters.” She empties the baggie of change onto a side table and divides it in half.

  She shuffles the cards expertly. “Ready?”

  “Oh, you’re going down.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  And by the time my chemotherapy is completed, Lila is counting her quarters.

  Yeah, she kicked my ass.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Lila

  Cade’s treatment is underway. So far, he’s lost six pounds, thrown up endless times, and slept through an exam. He’s disappointed in himself, frustrated, and feeling downright tragic. I really want to comfort him and help him through this, but I feel like I’m failing.

  How do I support him without it seeming like pity? How do I cheer him up without it seeming forced? I’m so far out of my comfort zone, and I don’t know how to act around him sometimes. I laugh at myself, remembering how it was my idea for Maura, Emma, Mia, and I to push past our comfort zones this semester, to be present in the moment. Well, I’m living in the freaking present. And reality is knocking me flat on my ass.

  My dad enrolled me in a preparation MCAT course that is now taking up what little free time I had to devote to Cade. My dad is seriously ruining my life. I’m so crazy busy now that I barely have time for normal socializing. I’ve bumped into Kristen a few times at the boys’ football house, but we haven’t had a chance to really catch up. Based on the fact that I’ve seen her walking out of Miers bedroom on several occasions, I’d say their date went really well. I haven’t seen Sam at all since the night he went out with Chris, but since he’s been MIA I am guessing his date was also wildly successful. The three of us are meeting tonight for happy hour at The Rabbit Hole to discuss all these new developments in detail. I’m really looking forward to a casual, drama-free (well as free as it can be with Sam present) night out with my friends.

  While I’m getting dressed to head out to The Rabbit Hole, Mia FaceTimes me from Rome. I smile just seeing her name flash on my screen.

  “Ciao bella!” I answer.

  “Ciao bellezza. Comé stai?”

  “Good, thanks! How’s all in Rome?”

  “Amazing! I love my classes and the city is incredible. You seriously need to come visit me.” Her smile is genuine and sincere.

  “I wish I could. And the boy sitch?”

  Mia grimaces, tugging on a lock of her rich brown hair. “Interesting.”

  “A diplomatic choice of words.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “And …?”

  “And I don’t have that much time to discuss now, but I’ll fill you in soon. For now, just know that I’m really torn between Lorenzo and Pete. I mean, Lorenzo is amazing and sweet and kind. But Pete is American and from Connecticut. I feel like we could continue dating back home. Like there’s more of a future with him. I don’t know. I can’t believe my dilemma is that there are two guys who like me!” She laughs at herself, rolling her eyes. “And I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Who do you connect with more?”

  She shrugs and looks away, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

  “The Italian? Lorenzo?” I guess.

  She looks up, her eyes serious and she nods slowly. “I think so.”

  “Then that’s the obvious choice.”

  “Yeah, but I’m leaving soon.” She bites her lower lip. “Then we’d be long-distance.”

  Uh-oh. Mia is smitten kitten. I can tell just by the way she looks when she thinks about trying a long-distance relationship wit
h Lorenzo. She looks like she’s about to cry her eyes out.

  “But if you’re both committed and you want it, you can make it work.” I point out logically.

  She nods. “I know. Anyway, I’m calling to check on you. Maura told me about Cade. What the hell?”

  “Yeah.” I sigh, sinking onto the edge of my bed.

  “How are you?”

  “I’m okay. I’m really worried about him. He’s not handling the chemo well. I think he’s having a hard time that his body isn’t doing what he expects from it. He’s embarrassed every time he gets sick and is angry at himself for being tired.”

  Mia nods sympathetically. “I know. But it’s a lot to handle, for anyone, at anytime. Try and imagine how it is for him, being so close to his dreams and having everything ripped away so suddenly? It’s devastating.”

  “Talking a bit from experience there, are ya?”

  She smiles sadly. “Yes. Just cut him some slack.”

  “I’m trying. I just don’t know what to do to make him feel better.”

  “Give him some time to come to terms with everything. And if he starts to wallow too long, that’s when you step in with some tough love. Like you guys did for me.” She smiles briefly, but then her mouth morphs into a serious line. “Like I think we’re going to have to do with Maura soon.”

  “What? Why? What’s going on with her?”

  Mia holds her finger up to me, talking quickly in Italian to someone in the next room. “Sorry. I got to go. We’ll catch up soon. Just be there for him, whatever he needs. And keep acting like yourself. If you change around him, you’ll only make him feel worse about everything he’s already trying to deal with.”

  “Yeah, he said something similar to me already.”

  “Let me know if you need to talk about anything. Love you, Li.”

  “Love you. Have fun and call soon with your scoop! I want to know more about the Italiano.”

  “Will do. Ciao.”

  “’Bye.”

  I disconnect FaceTime, watching as Mia’s smile and wave linger on the screen for a few seconds. I miss her. I wonder how serious she is with this Lorenzo guy? Or with the other guy, Pete? And what the heck is going on with Maura? I mean, I know she hasn’t been acting like herself lately and she’s been having a really tough time coping since Adrian’s death, but if Mia is staging an intervention, then it’s serious.

  I sigh. When did everything get so complicated? I can still hear the four of us girls laughing, huddled around the café table and eating pizza the night before Mia left for Italy. Now it’s like we all suddenly grew up and became adults, handling serious issues and real problems. Not just the usual dilemma of black or nude pumps.

  “Oh good! You’re here.” Kristen walks into our room. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I jump off the bed quickly. “I was just getting dressed.”

  “Cool. We have to leave in ten or we’re going to be late. I’m just going to change really fast.” She scrunches her nose up at her reflection in our full-length mirror. “I look rough.”

  “You look lovely.”

  “What should I wear?”

  “Seriously? We’re meeting Sam.”

  “I’m seeing Joe afterward.”

  “Oh?”

  “Just help me get dressed and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “Deal.” I reach into my closet and pull out a casual blue and black floral print dress. “Your boobs will look awesome. Trust,” I say, handing her the dress.

  She sighs, relieved. “Thanks.”

  We dress quickly. Kristen looks cute and adorable in my dress and silver sandals. She tosses a black cardigan on over the dress, cuffing up the sleeves. Her hair has grown out a bit, her layers framing her face nicely. She still sports a warm tan from summer, but really her face is shining with happiness, the glow of her cheeks creating a lovely shimmer. She exudes pure bliss.

  I had that look when I first started seeing Cade.

  Before he got sick.

  * * *

  The Rabbit Hole is noisy and boisterous when Kristen and I enter. The front windows are open, allowing people to pour out onto the front patio. Girls in short dresses and guys in jean and T-shirts litter the sidewalk, smoking cigarettes, talking animatedly, joking loudly.

  I spot Sam in the back, already sitting at a table. Kristen and I weave through the throng of bodies to reach him.

  “How’d you pull this off?” I ask, pointing to the table.

  “I dated the owner’s brother.” He sighs.

  “Of course you did,” I remark. This clearly makes perfect sense.

  Kristen and I sit down around the circular table. Kristen reaches for a menu. “I’m starved. And dying of thirst.”

  “Glad I could be of service.” Sam smiles as a tray with three Bloody Marys arrives at our table.

  I smile at him. “You really are amazing.”

  “I know.” Sam pushes two glasses over to Kristen and me. “Cheers, ladies.”

  “Cheers,” we echo.

  The spicy tang coats my throat and instantly reminds me why I love happy hour so much. It’s such a magical time, suspended between real life and good times, working hours and playing hours. And everything is half price!

  Kristen orders nachos, wings, and bruschetta for us to share.

  “Okay…” I lean forward, my elbows resting on the table “…spill it.”

  “I’m in love,” Sam declares.

  “With Chris?”

  Sam rolls his eyes. “And my tailor. But yes. With Chris.”

  “He’s been sleeping at his place like every night for the past week,” Kristen adds.

  “What? How come no one told me?” I ask.

  “Because you’ve been MIA and we understand why,” Sam says, reaching over and placing his hand over mine in a rare display of concern and comfort.

  “Well tell me now.”

  “I’m having the best sex of my life.” Sam smiles holding up four fingers on his right hand. “Last night.” He nods as my mouth falls open. He holds up two fingers. “This morning.”

  “Oh my God! Stop!” I swat his hand away.

  “I’m serious. I take back ever being jelly of you for getting it on with Cade. I’m sated now.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Do you guys do anything else?”

  “They eat. Sometimes,” Kristen adds again.

  Sam laughs. “Oh, I eat the meat.”

  “Ew! Stop.” Kristen covers her ears.

  Before Sam can continue, I turn to her. “Spill the beans about Miers.”

  Her face transforms, a soft smile playing over her lips. She suddenly seems shy, hesitant. “He’s great.”

  “Great? That’s all you’re giving me.”

  “I really like him,” she says quietly.

  I smile at her. “I can tell.”

  “He’s introducing me to his parents at the end of this month.”

  “What?” I yell.

  Sam nods eagerly, chiming in. “Isn’t it crazy-soon but still so amazing?”

  “They’re visiting the last weekend of October and he invited me to dinner to meet them.”

  “Wow.”

  Kristen smiles serenely. I feel a quick pang of envy over her bliss. Why can’t Cade and I still be frozen in the happily-floating-on-clouds-lost-in-each-other moment?

  “Hey.” Sam breaks into my thoughts suddenly, plucking a nacho from the heaping plate that just arrived. “How come you didn’t tell me you enrolled in the MCAT prep course?”

  I sigh. “Ugh. My dad signed me up.”

  “Without asking you?” Kristen asks.

  I nod, miserably. “I don’t want to take it. Especially not now. It’s like the only extra time I have to spend with Cade.”

  “But we should all be taking a prep course this semester. It will complement our internships nicely and ensure we have extra prep time next semester to go over the material comprehensively before the MCAT,” Kristen says. “It’s smart that your da
d enrolled you now. I wonder if my parents even know I have to take a qualifying exam for med school?” she wonders a loud.

  “I’m sure they know. Everyone knows that.” Sam samples a wing. “Mm, these are amazing. Oh, I may hit number three yet today.”

  I choke on my Bloody Mary.

  “Lila, it’s good that you take the prep course now. You’ll be ahead of the curve. I’m going to enroll next month,” Sam adds.

  Kristen nods her head seriously.

  I squirm in my seat. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Why are you being so weird about it? Are you nervous about the MCAT? I’m sure you’ll do great and get accepted into some impossibly elite program.” Sam stops eating to look at me.

  I sigh. Do I want to get accepted into some impossibly elite program? My dad would be delighted and offer to pay for it all. He’d probably throw in a new car to sweeten the deal. He’s been extra generous with my monthly allowance since I’ve been at Astor, and I’m sure it has nothing to do with his feeling bad about Brenda but is directly related to my internship at Henry Harper.

  But what if that’s not what I want?

  “Ahem. You okay?” Sam is studying me, his neck tilted to the left, his eyebrows bunched in his “pondering” expression.

  Even Kristen puts down her chicken wing and faces me, her eyes concerned.

  “I don’t know if I want to go to med school.” I sigh miserably.

  “What?” Sam screeches, slapping a palm against the table. “But you’re so good at everything. Why would you apply for this program if it isn’t what you want?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I think I’m just realizing it now.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Is this because of Cade?”

  “What? No! He has nothing to do with this. It’s my decision and one I’ve been thinking about for a while now.”

  Kristen takes my hand sympathetically. “Is it your dad?”

  After a moment I nod.

  “What? What’s your dad have to do with it?” Sam asks.

  “For being gay, sometimes your EQ sucks,” Kristen tells him.

  Sam sticks out his tongue.

  “You need to talk to him. It’s fine to change your mind. That’s why people even go to college these days, to figure out what they want to pursue next. Just tell him now before he starts sending you Harvard Medical School hoodies.” Kristen releases my hand.