I'm fine. |stiles stilinski•

Part 13

I get at least 30 sympathetic looks today. People I've never even spoken come up to me saying they hope I get better. People watch me as I walk weakly up stairs and around school, trying to carry things whilst clutching my oxygen tank. They stare at my cannula and beanie-covered head. Everyone looks at me with pity and guilt, including my own friends. All exept Lucy. She's rude, laughs at me, and honestly, is a complete bitch. But I know it's not her fault, it's this stupid thing we both have growing inside us, killing us, destroying us, until there's literally nothing left.

I check my watch: 1:58pm. Only an hour to go until I get to see Derek and go home. But I also know I only have a week left until my next block of chemo starts, so I try to make the most of school. I talk to people, contribute in class, listen to my teachers. I try to act normal.

I check my timetable and see that I have chemistry, upstairs. As I slowly climb the steps, I drop the pile of heavy books I was desperately struggling to carry.

"Ah, crap!" I mumble under my breath, and with my light weight oxygen tank in one hand, I attempt to bend down and pick up the books single handedly, which is easier said than done. I feel a pain in my chest when I bend over, probably my catheta. I wince in pain. No one else is around; everyone must've gone to class. I stand up straight again, breathing heavily, trying to figure out what to do. In the end I sit down on the steps, my head in my hands. I'm so damn useless.

"Stiles?" I hear a familiar ask. I look up and see Malia stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking at me unsurely.

"Oh, hey..." I trail off, looking at the books around me.

"You okay?" She asks slowly, stepping closer.

"Uh, yeah... No, I don't know, not really." I say quietly, my hand over my mouth, muffling my voice.

"What happened?" She asks softly.

"I, er... The books were too heavy, I dropped them, and I couldn't bend down because it hurt my chest and I was trying to pick them up with one hand but my cannula was in the way and then I just..." I trail off and feel myself start to cry. Malia climbs the steps, picking up each book, then sits next to me.

She leans on my shoulder.

"It's okay," she soothes, stroking my arm.

"No, no, no it's not." I cry, my head buried in my hands. "I can't do anything anymore." I cry. "I'm jut so useless; I can't even carry some freaking books up the stairs without having a meltdown!" I say. She puts her arm around me and pulls me close to her.

"Stiles, you're far from useless. You're incredible- you're strong, a real fighter. It's not your fault." She says, rubbing my back with her hand in a circular motion.

"I'm not strong." I whisper.

"Stiles, you're the strongest person I know. Now, come on, let's go to chemistry. I'll carry your books." She smiles, holding the books in her arms, as well as her own. I smile at her.

"Thanks, Malia." I say.

When we arrive late in the chemistry, I just look at my cannula sadly and the teacher doesn't question anything. Cancer perk.