Part 1

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 “So, I just take a variable wherein squaring it gives me the highest degree of the function?” I asked, blowing eraser dust off my bedspread.

“Yeah, then you just solve for the new variable then substitute it back to the original when you get a value for it.” Ryan replied through my computer screen as he started solving for x on his math module.

It was Sunday night and as usual, I was cramming my math homework with Ryan through Skype.

My X was just about to lose its anonymity when I heard a scream from downstairs.

Maggie.

I jumped off my bed and ran downstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

*

The last time she had an episode was almost a year ago. I was in English class when I was excused by our school’s guidance counselor to go see her at St. Jonah’s Children’s Hospital. Apparently, she hyperventilated during her school’s fire drill and fainted on the spot.

She’s had this heart complication since birth. I never fully understood all the medical terms behind it but all I knew was that her aorta was narrower than usual ones and that made it hard for her heart to pump blood all over her body. This means she couldn’t do any strenuous activities. No sports, no running, no nothing. She was easily tired and was under constant medication. You’d think she would see her life as a curse, but she didn’t. It’s what I admired most about her. She always saw the bright side, when I wouldn’t have.

Her bright side? She wasn’t supposed to live. But she did. And she lived normally enough. Over time, her condition became less severe, her episodes less frequent, and she learned to cope with it. She went to regular school, had tons of friends, and eventually, was even allowed to go to concerts and parties. She just had to be kept under a good eye.

When I walked in her room, she looked so pale and tired on her bed, I thought it was coming soon. And by “it”, I mean the D-word. I can’t even say it.

I was proven wrong when she suddenly gave me the biggest smile you could ever see from a girl in a hospital gown with tubes attached to her.

“He tweeted me,” she said gleefully. She sounded so full of life, so merry, that seeing her there on that metal bed broke my heart. If you were blind, you’d think you were hearing the voice of a girl at a sleepover filled with little thirteen year old girls and ice cream.

But no. It was just me, her, and my Auntie in that cold white hospital room.

“Who tweeted you what?” I asked.

“Connor,” she handed me her phone. “from Before You Exit.”

“Oh,” I said, reading the tweet, “it’s the boy you like.”

Maggie rolled her eyes at me. “How many times do I have to tell you, Jane? It’s TOBY. He’s the one I like. Connor and Riley are his brothers, and Thomas and Braiden are-“

“Maggie, I’m going to the cafeteria downstairs for some coffee,” Auntie interjected. “You want anything?”

“No thanks,” she replied, yawning.

I shot my auntie a grateful look as she left and Maggie drifted back to sleep. I love her but I couldn’t stand her obsession with these boybands. I mean, I love music as much as the next girl, but I don't fall head over heels for the artists. I just don’t get it.

  * 

“What is it, what happened?!” I screamed, almost tripping over the last step as I ran to the kitchen, where I heard the scream come from.

I expected her on the floor, with Auntie fanning her as she dialed her doctor’s number into the phone.

She wasn’t.

Instead, she was jumping up and down, screeching silently, while Auntie calmly chopped up some carrots on the island.

“Oh boy,” I said, resting my back on the wall as I caught my breath. “did you get another tweet from what’s his face?”

“It’s TOBY,” Maggie said, stretching out each syllable. “and no. You’ll never believe it, Jane. Mom got me the best birthday gift EVER.”

She was waiting for me to ask her what it was but I just stared back at her expectantly.

“I’M GOING TO A BEFORE YOU EXIT CONCERT!” She practically spat in my face. “AND A BUS PARTY. I’LL MEET TOBY AND RILEY AND CONNOR AND THOMAS AND BRAIDEN AND HAVE USIES WITH THEM AND-“

“Have what?” I asked, interrupting her fangirl rampage.

“Never mind,” she said, still unable to remove that huge smile from her flushed face. “I’M GONNA MEET THEM. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.”

“Wow,” I replied, unaffected. “You’re so lucky.”

“Actually,” Auntie spoke up, while little bits of carrot slices flew off her knife, “You’re both lucky. Because you’re coming with her.”

“What?!” I said, indignantly. “Can’t she go with her friends?”

“Yeah, mom,” Maggie said, turning to Auntie. “Sarah and Max are going, can’t I just go with them? I don’t wanna be with the old lady that doesn’t know who the band is.”

“I’m only five years older than you,” I retorted.

“Yeah,” Maggie tipped her head to the side. “but you’re eighteen. Which makes you old.”

“Auntie, I don’t wanna go.” I said, in a pleading tone. “I’ll be the only one with a stable non-boy worshipping mind there.”

“And the only girl with no taste in music,” Maggie added.

“It’s final,” Auntie said, before I could whip out a comeback. “you’re both going, or NONE of you goes. Now Jane, can you go set the table? It’s almost time for dinner.”

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