For Every Missing Shade

Entry 39

I sat waiting in my car as the minute hand ticked to the point where I couldn't physically get to my class without being late. I was scared to go inside. I was scared to sit in class while the teacher mumbled about pointless shit and everyone looked at me.

I'd be the boy who loved a dying girl. A boy who chose to shatter his world alongside someone else.

"For her it was inevitable," they'd say, "but for him it was a choice."

I didn't know what to think, I didn't know what to do. I watched people walk past my car and look at me like they'd just seen a ghost, then turn away like my face was a forbidden secret. They'd talk to their friends like I had become exactly what I thought I'd be: school's hottest piece of gossip.

The minute-hand turned dangerously close to eight o'clock so I got out of my car and walked in. Luckily, everyone else had already gone to class so my walk into school was pure bliss. I looked at the empty walls, the shitty lockers that held every useless class's books and every stupid person's backpacks. For the first time in a long time, the walls looked the way they did before Her: white, grey, and black.

I stood in front of the door to my first-period class for as long as I could.

The bell rang to start class and I stood still.

I saw the teacher go up to the front of the class and I stood still.

I chose the seat I would take once inside and I stood still.

Eventually, I went inside.

The doorknob felt cold and hollow.

I wonder if it gets that feeling from me.

I walked inside, trying not to stare at the thousand eyes staring back at me.

"So, uh, I guess I need to go get a tardy slip," I said quietly.

"Oh, no. No no, I get it. It's hard to find classes on the first day back. Just, uh, try to be more on-time next time," he said back.

I bit my cheek. And so the pity party begins.

--

I walked out of the school doors without talking to anyone. It crossed my mind that Stew would be at school, but I didn't have the energy to talk to him. I had the energy to do one thing.

Drive to the hospital.

I walked into the hospital room and she was already up. I almost started crying. It felt like years since I last saw her. She looked over at me and smiled. Subsequently, my whole world smiled back. I ran up to her and hugged her.

"Easy on the tumors, big guy," she said gleefully.

I looked her in the eyes and kissed her. She kissed back. Let's run away forever. "How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Been better, but been worse as well."

I smiled. "Can't complain too much then, right?"

She breathed out a laugh. "Try me."

I took a seat right next to the bed and held her hand, taking care not to mess with the IV.

"So," she began, "how was work, honey?"

"Take a guess," I laughed exhaustedly back.

"Full of laughs and pity?" she asked.

"Take out the laughs and you're spot on," I muttered back.

"Oh no, the big man doesn't want anyone else's hard feelings, does he?"

"Shut up, you know you're the reason it's happening anyway. I should be mad at you."