The Game That Breaks Us

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “Fuck yes it is.”

  She bends down as far as she can and I kiss her. I kiss her with everything I have in me. All the love, and hurt, and anguish I’ve felt is poured into that kiss as everyone in the stadium cheers.

  Grace smiles down at me and I think to myself; Fuck, this is my girl.

  I finally got the girl.

  I finally got it all.

  I slide the zipper closed on my last bag.

  I made it through a whole year of college and I didn’t die, so yay for small miracles.

  “I’m going to miss you so much.” Elle tackle hugs me.

  I laugh and balance myself so we don’t fall. “I’m sure I’ll see you before next year.”

  “But not every day.” She pulls away and frowns. “I was so wrong about you when I first met you and I’m sorry for that. You’ve taught me not to judge a book by its cover.”

  “Stop saying nice things,” I scold her. “You’re going to make me cry and this mascara is too expensive to ruin.”

  She busts out laughing.

  A knock raps against our open door and I look behind me to see Bennett standing there with coffees and cupcakes.

  “I figured since it’s your last day, you both deserved a treat.”

  The last few months have been beyond amazing with Bennett. We’ve spent as much time together as we could, but it’s been hard with school and his schedule. We’ve made it work, though, and we’re happy, so that’s what matters. Even though what happened to us sucked, I think it ultimately made us stronger. I hate that I ever doubted him for one second. I know it wasn’t my fault—I mean, with the evidence presented in front of me, there was only one way for me to think—but I know Bennett. I know his heart and soul and those things count more than anything else.

  “Thank you.” I smile at him.

  “Thanks, Bennett.” Elle takes a coffee. “Well—” she turns to me “—I have to get to the airport before I miss my flight.”

  Emotion tugs at my heart. “I’m going to miss you.” I hug her again. “Call, text, send a carrier pigeon—just don’t lose touch.”

  “I won’t,” she promises and picks up her bag. “Ryland’s outside waiting.”

  “Tell him goodbye from me, please?” I ask her.

  She nods. “I will.”

  As soon as she’s gone, Bennett picks me up and tosses me on the bed before jumping on beside me. My laughter fills the air as we bounce up and down.

  He props his head on his hand and gazes down at me, tracing his fingers lazily over my bare stomach where my shirt has ridden up.

  “Are you sure you want to live with me?”

  When he asked me to move in with him for the summer, I was ecstatic. The thought of going home and being away from him for all that time sucked. My parents weren’t thrilled with the idea, but they didn’t hate Bennett—they were just struggling with letting go.

  I bite my lip but my laughter still escapes. “Yes.”

  “Even if I snore?”

  “If you snore, I’ll just smother you with a pillow.” I shrug.

  His laughter booms and I grin.

  This is us.

  We smile.

  We laugh.

  We fight.

  We make up.

  But most importantly we always love.

  Because love … it’s everything.

  I can’t believe we’re here again. The end of another book. Thank you so much to everyone who made this happen.

  Regina Wamba, you have once again rocked another cover. I can’t handle the cuteness.

  Mackenzy and Jeff, thank you so much for bringing Bennett and Grace alive.

  Thank you to my beta readers, Haley, Raquel, Genesis, Stefanie, and Becca for helping shape The Game That Breaks Us into the book that is. I value all of your opinions so much.

  Wendi, you rock my socks off.

  To the girls and guys in my Micalea’s Minions group, I love you all so much. You have no idea. Whenever I go into my group I feel like I’m heading into my safe place where I get to hang out with my best friends.

  Regina Bartley, you are such a huge part of every book I write. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably die of boredom.

  To my family, I don’t say it enough, but thank you. Thank you for believing in my dreams when at times I didn’t. Because you I am where I’m at and I’ll always be thankful for that.

  And to my readers, without you I couldn’t do this. Whether you’ve been here from my very first book or you’re just discovering me with this one, I love you very much.

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  Excerpt from Regina Bartley

  Chapter One

  I hate hospitals. I hate how the room is always cold, how the pungent smell of cleaner gags me, and how the nurses are all waiting for the next shift change so they can get the hell out of there. I wished she’d take me with her. That young nurse who looked like she was leaving for the weekend, the one with the long painted fingernails, and bright pink lip-gloss. She seemed carefree as if she were about to leave work for a party or a girl’s night out. I’d kill for a girl’s night out. Hell, I’d kill for any kind of night out. Two nights lying in a hospital bed, was far too many.

  “The doctor will be in soon, he’s making his rounds,” the young nurse spoke to me as she tightened the blood pressure cuff around my arm.

  They’d been saying that for the last three hours, but I hadn’t seen the doctor yet.

  “Are you sure there isn’t anyone you want us to call for you?” She asked. Once again she was barging into the territory that she didn’t belong. It couldn’t be that rare that people came into the hospital with no family or friends.

  I glared up at her with an aggravated look on my face. I wanted to tell her to stop asking. She was a pushover.

  Instead I replied through gritted teeth, “Positive.”

  She shrugged it off like my attitude was no big deal, and I hated her even more for it.

  Sure I wished that I had someone who would be there with me in my time of need, but there was no one. My mother had passed away nearly six months earlier, and my grandma was in a nursing home without any recollection of who I was or who she was for that matter. I couldn’t visit her much because her immune system was so low, and lately I’d been very sick. Just weeks ago I’d been to the doctor, but he’d brushed off my sickness as something viral and said that it would run its course. Unfortunately, it had run me into the ground instead.

  Literally.

  I’d passed out at work, and woken up inside a hospital room; a hospital room that smelled like death, and only a few bitchy nurses to keep me company.

  I turned over in the uncomfortable bed so that I could face the window. The evening light from the sun was setting and the dark clouds were taking over. No matter how dreary it looked outside I still would’ve rather been out there. I couldn’t rest. The pain in my stomach was keeping me doubled over, and any more encounters with these dingbat nurses and I’d need a sedative.

  There was a light tap on the door, but I didn’t bother turning over. I stared off, lost in my own thoughts.

  “Ms. Holt.”

  An elder man came into view from the edge of my bed. He was wearing a dress shirt and tie and had long white hair that touched his collar. His eyebrows were raised in question as if he needed me to verify my name. It was obviously written on the chart he was holding in his hands.

  Giving him a knowing look, I sighed. Hospitals brought out the worst in me. I was an evil wench.

  The man whom I assumed was the doctor scooted the chair over next to my bed, and sat down.

  “I’m Doctor Lincoln,” he proceeded. “I’ve come to talk to you about your test results. Doctor Andrews ordered a second more detailed CT scan because of your inconclusive results from the first test. I can only assume he wanted to be certain of y
our diagnosis.” There was a slight clearing of his throat before he continued. “You have no next of kin listed on your admittance form. Is that correct?”

  I nodded, shifting upward in my seat. Sitting too long in any direction usually caused me discomfort.

  “You know what’s wrong with me?” I asked.

  It was his turn to nod, and I could see the strain in his forehead. It was bad news, also known as the story of my life.

  I swallowed the golf ball size lump in my throat and waited for the worst.

  “Pancreatic Cancer.”

  There may have been other words in his explanation but pancreatic cancer was all I’d heard. The “C” word had haunted me forever. It was the disease that took my Mother, and also my aunt.

  Now me.

  If there were ever a time for me to panic, it was at that very moment. Only I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. There was no right thing that would take away the very wrong thing that was happening. The pit of my stomach felt like razor blades as it twisted up in knots.

  “I’m very sorry.” His calloused fingers touched my shoulder and my eyes flicked toward his face. “We should run a few more tests and get you started on an aggressive treatment plan. There is a great cancer center off the west exit of the hospital,” He explained.

  “I know the place.” My voice sounded nothing like my own. It was laced with sorrow and hurt. I clenched my jaw and wiped the layer of sweat that gathered at the base of my neck.

  The Doctor glanced over his paperwork, scratching his head as if he’d written a math problem he couldn’t figure out. He studied it, flipping the pages up and down.

  I adjusted myself in the bed and straightened the wires that were attached to my body in some way, shape or form. The room had grown ten times hotter, and my mind flooded with memories of the many times I’d taken my mom into that cancer center. She had the cancer in her bladder, and stomach, and it didn’t take long for it to take over her body and run through her as rapid as a wildfire. She couldn’t beat it, and I knew I couldn’t either. I was no idiot. Pancreatic cancer was as good as a death sentence.

  Twenty years old.

  That’s all I was.

  “This is what we will do Ms. Holt,” the doctor stood up from his chair and the sound of his dress shoes made clanking noises as he paced the floor.

  “Wait.” I hit the arrow up button on the side of the bed and it let out a loud motorized noise as the head of my bed began to rise up. “No plans.” I shook my head. “I don’t want any treatment, or cancer center. I don’t want to be sick from that stuff like my Mom was. I just want to go home with my cat.”

  “But Miss Holt,” he interjected, but I waved my hand for him to stop.

  “I know about this cancer Doctor. I know that I won’t survive.” I spoke, and it pained me to say the words. I’d gone through this twice now with family and I didn’t have the strength left to fight for myself. It was a fight that I wouldn’t win anyway.

  He let my chart hang loosely at his side as he stared at me with a look that was anything but understanding. “The treatment could add months to your life.”

  “Yeah,” I huffed. “Months of me trying to find a way back and forth to a treatment that’s going to make me sick and tired. I don’t have anyone else in my life, and I don’t want to spend what little time I have left in that building where I watched my Mom die.”

  The tears welled up in my eyes, but I held them off.

  He glanced at my chart again and sighed before running his hand roughly down the side of his face. “Without treatment it’s likely that it will progress quickly inside you.”

  “How long?” I asked. I wanted to know just how long I had before I’d die.

  “I can’t say for certain, but I’d say you won’t see your next birthday.” He choked up.

  I closed my eyes to keep from crying. My birthday was only three months away; my twenty-first birthday.

  He thought I wouldn’t live to see my twenty-first birthday, and he was probably right.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  A tear fell freely down my cheek, and I nodded. “I’m sure. I would like it if you could give me something for the pain while I’m home, something good.” I smiled.

  He gave me a half-hearted smile. “Okay,” he replied. “I would offer you the diet plan we have that is very helpful for cancer patients, but I think if I were you I’d eat what you love.”

  I smiled back at him. “I plan to. Can I go home now?”

  “I’ll sign the papers, and the nurse will be in to discharge you. I wish you well Tori, and if you change your mind I’ll set up a rapid fire plan for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He hung his head as he left me in solitary confinement. The moment the door closed behind him I broke. I lost it completely.

  My heart ached, and felt heavy inside my chest as I cried. I was twenty years old, with no family, no friends, and a burden that I’d have to carry all by myself.

  I was going to die.

  I sobbed into my hands and rocked back and forth in my bed. I was so afraid.

  So afraid…

  I didn’t want to die alone.

  I couldn’t die alone.

  I couldn’t.