TRAPPED

45

Celine

The days pass quickly. On the Monday, we go to my chemotherapy appointment.

My dad and Julien sit with me for the entire three and a half hours—including the time it takes to freeze my scalp, or whatever it is. Toward the end, my eyes become hard to keep open and I slump in my chair.

Julien tilts me back into a normal sitting position. I curl my arms around myself and look up, past my dad and past Julien. My eyes find Will, who's walking over to one of the chairs, staring at me like he's seen a ghost.

My eyes widen and I look away. "Dad, I wanna go home." I whine tiredly, trying to ignore the urge to look at Will again.

"I know, baby. Just another couple minutes and then we'll be able to go." He says, squeezing my hand.

"Just think—tomorrow at this time we'll be in France." Julien tells me. I smile. "Have you packet everything you're taking?"

I nod, yawning.

"Are you excited?" My dad asks gently.

I nod again, this time quicker. It's all I've been able to think about; when I became worried about this appointment, I just thought, when it's over I'll sleep and then I'll go to France.

"Can we go to Disney Land?" I question.

My dad smiles. "Sure, baby."

"And the Eiffel Tower?"

"They're both in Paris, but we can drive up." He answers.

"Okay." I whisper.

Adrien

Celine falls asleep in the back of the car a few minutes once we get into it. Julien leans back to wrap her up in a blanket tightly, and she stirs but doesn't wake up.

It takes us longer than usual to get home. When we do, I carry Celine into the house and upstairs into her bedroom.

Valencia is waiting there. She smiles at me as I set Celine down, and she quickly connects her to her IV drip. I run my hand through her hair and lean down to kiss her forehead.

     She stirs, opening her blue eyes. She frowns immediately, looking around. She relaxes a little when he sees me, and I sit down beside her.

     "I'll get a glass of water." Valencia says, quickly walking out.

     I take Celine's small, cold hand and warm it up between both of mine. "How are you feeling?" I ask gently.

     "Are we going to France now?" She asks tiredly.

     "Not yet, baby. Tomorrow." I tell her. "Is there anything you still want to bring with you?"

     She shakes her head. "Just.. my phone."

     "Okay. We'll get that tomororw."

     She's silent for a moment before she whispers, "dad?"

     "Hm?"

     "Are we going to France now?"

     I furrow my eyebrows. She just asked me that. "No, sweetheart. We're going tomorrow. Remember?"