“I don’t want to like him, though,” I groaned in protest.
“We don’t always know what we want. I believe you, my friend, are in denial,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“I’m not in denial,” I had shaken my head no.
“You totally are,” she challenged.
“Am not,” I argued childishly.
Caitlyn sighed dramatically, leaning her head back a little in defeat. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore,” she said, as she stood to her feet.
“Thank god,” I muttered. “What’s the surprise, anyway?”
She grabbed my hands to help me stand on my feet. “Oh, I didn’t have a real surprise. I just rented a movie,” she shrugged.
I immediately plopped back down on the couch. “Good. Make some noodles, get the two bottles of wine, and start the movie.”
She had given me a strange look, appalled by my bossiness.
“Please?” I looked up at her, pouting a little.
She sighed, but she did as told.
We enjoyed the rest of what was left of our ninth friendaversary. We allowed ourselves to get drunk while we could. I hadn’t taken my scrubs off that night, and Caitlyn had fallen asleep face-down in my lap. I braided her hair, not caring about the choppy red strands that stuck out. I fell asleep there, just like that - right before the movie ended.
June 2nd, 1997, 8:08a.m.
Willow
“Today is our last day of high school, Will. You know what that means?”
Kennedy and I were sitting in the gym, waiting for the bell to ring so we could head to our first class. Today was our last day of high school, but I hadn’t exactly known what Kennedy was hinting at.
“I don’t know what it means, actually,” I responded.
“We have to fight the people we dislike the most. This is our last chance. Who do you dislike the most?” he questioned.
I stared at him, quizzically. “I’m not getting into a fight on our last day of high school, Kennedy. I want my diploma.”
“You’ll get your diploma, Will.”
“I don’t dislike anyone besides Calvin,” I shrugged, “And I’d have to be pretty stupid to start a fight with him.”
Calvin stood me up that day, and we never talked again since. I hadn’t cared all that much, because I had Kennedy. And that very day, I realized I couldn’t love anyone else. Kennedy and I were screwed, but there was nothing we could do about it. We just lived on. We continued being just Willow and Kennedy.
Kennedy’s eyes moved to where Calvin was sitting. He was sitting next to Valerie.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.
“I’ve never stopped wanting to punch that guy, so I call dibs. You can take Valerie, Will. You look tall standing next to her,” Kennedy said, nudging me with his arm.
I was expressionless. “Two weak females trying to punch each other would be a disaster. No, thanks,” I turned to face him, smiling weakly.
“You’d kick her ass, Willow,” Kennedy smirked. “She’s a gerbil. You’re a lion.”
I studied him silently for a moment. “What’s this about?” I asked quietly.
He sighed. “Neither of us has gotten into a fight with anyone before. It’s only okay to fight someone in high school. After graduation, it’d be too ridiculous to consider,” he shrugged.
“It’s ridiculous now,” I commented, grumbling. I was still in my “morning grouch” mood.
“Wouldn’t you like to punch her face, though?” he asked slowly, tipping his chin towards Valerie. She was checking her nails, and touching her hair too often. I could smell her estrogen from here. She was too female.
Honestly, I would like to punch her face. It was too pretty.
“I kind of want to pull her hair,” I admitted. “Maybe gut-punch her one good time, too,” I added, imagining the act in my head.
I was actually considering a fight.
“I don’t think you should fight Calvin, though, Kennedy. I don’t want you to get hurt,” I said, looking him in the eyes so he’d know I was serious.
He shrugged, “I’ll talk to him about you. I’ll tell him my feelings on what he had done. I’ll tell him he deserves a punch in the face, and I’ll give him just that. It’s his choice to punch me back, or not.”
“If he hurts you…” I trailed off.
Kennedy shook his head vigorously. “Bruises, blood, or anything of the sort does not faze me, Willow. If it comes to that, I can handle it,” he assured me.
I sighed longingly. He was right. He was strong, and he could handle this. He could take on the world with his hands tied behind his back. Kennedy could beat cancer. Kennedy could do anything.
“We got this,” I said calmly.
“We do,” he confirmed. “When the bell rings?” he asked.
I nodded. “When the bell rings,” I echoed.
We looked straight ahead, taking in the sight of our student body for the last time here, in our high school’s gym. His hand found mine, and he squeezed it.
It had taken four minutes, and then the bell rang. We stood up, still holding hands. We exchanged glances before walking towards our destination.
“I think I’ll just punch him once, and then I’ll walk away,” Kennedy whispered.
We were about five yards away from them, now. They were standing in the corner near the exit. It looked like Calvin and Valerie were conversing.
I nodded. “I think I’ll just punch her once, too, and then I’ll walk away.”
We were at an agreement. We were going to pull through with this fight. We were going to fight the popular kids that we disliked the most.
But then Valerie started crying, and I hadn’t wanted to fight her anymore. I looked at Kennedy. We paused.
“I don’t want to punch her, now,” I told him.
He nodded, and then took a deep breath. “I still want to punch Calvin,” he said.
“I want to punch him, too,” I said, and then we both looked at him in unison as Valerie walked away. She was rubbing at her eyes, her black hair falling around her face in defeat.
Calvin stood there, unaffected. Then he looked at me - and he winked.
Calvin fucking winked at me.
“We can take turns,” I looked up at Kennedy.
He looked unsure. “You can slap him one good time. Then I’ll take the reins, and punch him one good time,” he sort of agreed.
We sped up as we dropped our hands. Kennedy stood behind me as we neared Calvin. My fists were bunched at my sides as I stared this asshole in the face, my teeth gritting.
“Hi, there,” he greeted, smiling that smile that was so disgustingly different from Kennedy’s. He looked up to acknowledge Kennedy, as he stood protectively behind me.
I cleared my throat like I was about to speak, but instead, I quickly drew my hand all the way back, and slapped him hard in the face.
Super hard, I had hit the asshole in the face. I felt like I was at the peak of a mountain top as his head forcefully turned to the side, his cheek red.
“I was going to call, but-” he started, but he had gotten cut short.
I moved to the side, and Kennedy had caught him mid-sentence, and had punched him in the face. The same side I had hit him. He punched him harder than I anticipated, and I could already tell that Calvin would have a bruise there. People would know.
People were looking, now.
Calvin stumbled backward, caught by surprise. He made eye contact with Kennedy, his demeanor changing. “What the fuck?” he shot a glare towards Kennedy.
Kennedy looked angry. He looked so angry.
“You wanna go, stretch?” Calvin made a cocky hand gesture, antagonizing Kennedy.
“You’re a piece of shit,” Kennedy sneered, practically spitting the words at him. “Come on, show me what you can do. Or are you a shit talking kind of guy?” Kennedy took a step forward; he was in Calvin’s face, really.
People were forming around us, making encouraging sounds. Some were
chanting, “Fight!”
I stood there, motionless. I was afraid.
Calvin pushed Kennedy against his chest with both hands, but he wouldn’t budge from where he was standing. “Go away, man. I’m not going to fight someone who has fucking cancer. I can’t,” Calvin turned his head, refusing to look Kennedy in the eyes.
Kennedy hadn’t moved. “Tell her you’re sorry,” Kennedy raised his voice.
I was starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Fuck off!” Calvin pushed him again, annoyed.
Kennedy flared his nostrils, and stood his ground. “Who is she to you, huh? What were your intentions? Tell me now.”
Calvin shook his head, keeping his eyes focused on anything but Kennedy. “I was going to take her virginity, but I backed out, man. It was a stupid bet, but I backed out. Why the hell are you mad at me? She’s your girl. You should be happy I didn’t show to pick her up.”
Kennedy grabbed him by the shoulders, and literally pinned him to the wall. He pinned him. Calvin tried to get out of his firm grasp, but surprisingly, he hadn’t. He gave up. Kennedy just stood there, pinning him. Calvin let out a sigh through the dead silence, and finally made eye contact with Kennedy - and I knew that was what Kennedy was waiting for.
“That’s the thing, though,” Kennedy said, his voice hushed. “You think you had me fooled? No, you didn’t, fucker. You made her believe you could be someone worth her time, is what makes me mad. She’s everything to me. Luckily, she is a smart girl. Regardless, just to make it clear…you stay the hell away from her.”
Like in the movies, Kennedy pushed him harder against the wall before walking off, away from Calvin. I was standing about two feet away from them. Kennedy grabbed my arm, and we turned towards the exit. People were making “Ohhh” sounds, like they were impressed by what had taken place.
“We’re going to get stopped by an administrator eventually,” I whispered to him.
Kennedy made a nodding gesture, so I’d look ahead. “Yeah, that’ll be right about now,” he responded.
Our principal, Doctor Wilber, was standing near us. Her arms were crossed. She was shaking her head at us, disappointed.
We met her there where she was standing, and we all sighed in unison. “You two had to wait until the last day to get into mischief?” she exasperated.
“Sorry,” Kennedy and I both muttered.
“Well, you know what this means,” she said, raising her eyebrows.
We nodded, slowly.
“What can we say? We’re a couple of knuckleheads,” Kennedy tried to make a joke, but it hadn’t gotten through to her.
Failed attempt there, but nice going, Kennedy, I thought.
“Follow behind,” she instructed. “Detention on me,” she piped.
Kennedy and I exchanged looks of horror as we moved to follow behind Wilber’s footsteps.
Detention in the principal’s office: what a joyful time that’ll be.
“What happened to Shirley?” I asked in a small voice, from behind her. She hadn’t even bothered turning to look at me.
“It’s the last day of school. Mrs. Shirley is at home, I believe,” she said flatly.
I shot Kennedy a death glare. He shrugged his shoulders lightly, though there was a smirk there, sitting on his lips. He thought this was funny, but it was not. I was not looking forward to this.
“How long do we have?” Kennedy asked.
We were almost there, to her devastatingly saddening office. The walls were pasty white, and she had no pictures to light up the place. It was like I was being sucked into a black hole of misery.
She opened the door for us, and as we walked passed her and into the office, she said, “You have until lunch, then you two are free to go.”
We had to stay in Doctor Wilber’s office for four hours, nearly. Just until first lunch. Kennedy was able to switch lunches a few days ago, but they only allowed him to because it was our senior year, and we wouldn’t be coming back - so they figured, why not?
“Have a good day, you two,” Doctor Wilber muttered, as Kennedy and I scurried to leave her office at exactly twelve o’clock in the evening.
“You, too,” Kennedy said aloud, as he held the door open for me. I was quick to leave. He was quick to catch up with me.
As we walked down the hall, I looked up to make eye contact with him, and he smiled.
“We do everything together,” he said.
I sighed, my smile crooked. “It couldn’t be any other way.”
He grabbed my hand, and he squeezed it.
Somehow, I knew he hadn’t grabbed my hand this time to try and comfort me - but he grabbed it just because he wanted to hold my hand. That reminded me of something.
Something was sitting on my mind, so before we reached the students that were rushing to claim their lunch, I made it appoint to say that something just so I’d get it off my chest.
“Kennedy, why didn’t you correct Calvin when he said you had cancer?”
Kennedy had beaten cancer a long time ago. It had been gone for a while. It had been gone for almost eleven years, now. The worry settling in the pit of my stomach grew as the silence grew. He hadn’t said anything. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
Kennedy had dropped my hand from his.
“Willow, I… I tried to tell you at our home the other day. We can’t talk about it now. Everything is okay, I promise,” he said, his words pooled together. Kennedy sounded panicked, and that made me want to panic. The possibility of Kennedy having cancer again had to be the worst thing that could happen in this world.
“Kennedy, you have to be okay,” I whispered, desperately.
He sniffed. “Will, please wait, and we can talk about it later,” he said, begging me.
I was scared. I hadn’t known what to do.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere, and cry.
Instead, I held Kennedy’s hand, ate lunch with him at our table, and I waited.
August 30th, 2006, 6:38a.m.
Willow
I was hungover. I dreaded facing the sunlight. Caitlyn never got up, and she was still facedown asleep in my lap. I wanted to push her off, because I believed my legs were so asleep they could possibly fall off.
I slapped her face lightly, once. “Wake up, woman,” I mumbled.
She groaned. She hadn’t gotten off of me.
I grabbed her chopsticks from the side table, and then started lightly beating her head with them. I was getting rhythmic with it.
“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” I chanted.
I hadn’t paid attention to the time, though I had work to attend. I was sluggish, and hadn’t cared at all.
I stopped with the chopsticks, and held them in one hand when I sensed she was awake. Caitlyn groaned again, but this time, she turned her head, and looked at me. Her eyes were squinted, because she hadn’t wanted to open them all the way.
“I’m awake,” she said, her voice hoarse. Slowly, she sat up.
“Did we drink all of that wine?” she asked, as I got up from the couch to stretch. I had given her the chopsticks I had in my hand.
“We drank both bottles of wine,” I responded. I regretted drinking so much. Caitlyn regretted drinking so much, too.
“I have to go get Annette from my mom’s house, and take her to school,” Caitlyn grumbled. “I really don’t want to go outside.”
“Sunshades are on the desk,” I pointed out. “I appreciate you,” I offered.
“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes, yawning. She wrapped a blanket around her, then stomped her feet as she walked towards her bedroom. “I hope you have a good day at work,” she said in a nonchalant tone, before she had shut her door behind her.
I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a croissant sandwich from the fridge, and shoved it in my mouth. I hadn’t heated it up. The sausage and the egg and the croissant were cold, and I hadn’t particularly liked cold breakfast sandwiches.
Chewing - I was chewing at a fairly fast pace
.
I changed my clothes, deciding against showering, though I probably smelt a few shades under fresh.
I stood there alone, lost in thought - I sighed.
I needed to talk to the head nurse about vacation leave. I just started working at Chicago’s smallest hospital, and I hadn’t known who the head nurse was, exactly. I’d find out today. Wyatt would be okay without me. He needed a reason to leave the hospital. I wasn’t going to be his reason to stay anymore.
8:58a.m.
Once the same-old drive to work was over, I was now standing in the elevator. I pressed the buttons that led me to the second floor, and I stood there clutching the strap of my workbag, and I waited.
Saying goodbye to Wyatt would be difficult, but it needed to be done. I also needed a break. I hadn’t remembered the last time I had one.
The doors opened, and I caught Denise’s face; she was sitting behind the desk where she always was. Her smile was bright.
I was not smiling at all.
“Morning, Willow,” she greeted. She scrunched her eyebrows together as I neared, her smile slowly falling. “Are you okay, Hun?”
I paused, but only briefly. “I have to say goodbye to Wyatt today,” I said in a low tone. I cleared my throat. “Also, who’s the head nurse?” I questioned.
I wanted to go ahead and get it over with.
She shook her head, studying me. “You’re looking at her,” she replied.
My eyes widened. “Oh, really?” I whispered in disbelief.
Denise shook her head, simply. I was stalling, though I was the one that initiated this conversation in the first place. I wasn’t good at this. “So…” I trailed off.
“So?” she pushed.
I was confusing Denise. She thought there was something wrong with me.
I sighed. “Is it possible for me to go on vacation leave?” I asked slowly. I remained where I stood, though her stare was very parental and intimidating.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” she pursed her lips, and then she exhaled. “Are you okay, Willow?” she asked me a second time.
Our Last Time: A Novel Page 12