Just Wait » Boyf Riends

Yeah Okay, One Question: What The Everloving Fuck

this chapter is kinda shitty but i tried rlly hard rip

  Everything was the same when I woke up. Same house, same room, same pillow fort, same invasive thoughts.

  The one thing that struck me as different was the fact that Jeremy wasn't next to me anymore.

  For a split second, a thought crawled back out of the inferno where it originally belonged and said: "Yeah. Yesterday didn't happen. It was all just a big dream." And I seriously considered it for a moment before recognizing the blanket fort that we built yesterday surrounding me.

  So I just shrugged it off. He probably went home. It kinda worried me that he walked home alone though. He's sick, I can't expect him to stay at my house for too long. His dad was probably worried about him. Who knows?

  Then I heard a vomiting sound from the bathroom.

  I instantly shot up, slamming the door open, running to the bathroom as fast as possible: "Jeremy? Jeremy, are you okay?"

  There he was, sitting against the wall, one hand over his mouth, trembling.

  "Holy shit, dude, are you okay?" I run up to him and he shakes his head vigorously.

  "I, uh, I kinda threw up..."

  "Dude, it's fine. You're fine. Let's get you cleaned up, okay? You think you ate something bad?" I reach for the paper towel roll.

  Jeremy shakes his head and looks at me unsurely. He lets out a shaky sigh before slowly removing his hand from his face, revealing blood trickling down his chin.

  "Holy shit..." I stand there stunned for a moment before grabbing the paper towel roll and shoving it in his direction, "You threw up blood?"

  Jeremy stayed silent as he took a few sheets of paper towels, rubbing off his face. I took a minute to take an actual good look at Jeremy, and despite the fact that he threw up, the bags under his eyes were  getting a lot better. In other words: He slept well. That in itself made me smile slightly.

"I, uhm... thanks," he hands me the roll back, "I... I told you this was a symptom of esophageal cancer before, right?"

"Yeah, but you glossed over it saying: 'It doesn't happen often or anything!'" I mock his voice jokingly

"I, uh..." he laughs awkwardly, "I-It happened yesterday too. That's why... That's why I had trouble sleeping ereyesterday."

That explains the bags he had under his eyes yesterday. I bite my lip and look at him for a minute and then avert my eyes, "Dude. That's like... not okay."

Jeremy sniffed, curling in on himself, bringing his knees to his chest.

"Wait, hey, hey," I take one of his hands in mine, urging him to look at me, "It's okay. Don't worry about it, alright? You got this covered, I swear."

  "My chest burns, Mikey, it hurts really bad."

  I almost start tearing up, because I honestly have no idea what to do. I choke out: "I know, buddy. It's okay." I don't know how to deal with chest-burn or people throwing up blood. I'm just a stupid seventeen year old who cares about his friend and doesn't know shit about medical specifications.

Here I am, on my bathroom floor, sitting across this underweight kid who his classmates only know as "Oh, it's the cancer patient." My eyes were already burning but I almost felt tears begin to fall as soon as I saw that Jeremy looked like his eyes were burning too, probably because chest-burn must fucking suck.