The Rule of Thirds

Chapter Nineteen

I take the stairs up to the third floor, too impatient to wait for the elevator. I push open the door to the cancer center, expecting to see him right away, but he’s not there. His treatment probably long since fin- ished. I want to ask at the desk, to see if they know if he’s still at the hospital but there’s a line of patients waiting to be treated. I pull my phone out of my bag.

Me: Dylan! I’m at the hospital, are you here?

No reply. Callie will know. But in the caf there’s another girl on cash. I’m standing there, trying to work out a new plan when Callie comes out of the swinging door beside the hot counter. She’s drinking a Coke through a straw.

“Callie! Do you know where Dylan is?”

She looks surprised.

“I saw the board in the cancer center,” I say. “I know.”

She sighs, then nods. “Probably in the recovery ward. Back on the third floor, very end of the hall.” I race to the stairs, up to the third floor, down the hall, not letting myself think about what it all means. Past the nurses’ station to the end of the hall, then to the end of the next hall. I find the door to the recovery room, second to the end, and push it open, only then realizing I probably should’ve knocked. The room is lined with beds, one after another. I scan the room, not seeing Dylan. Then, I spot him, at the very end, on the left side, by the window. He’s sitting in a chair, reading. I rush over, and he looks up, startled. “Hey,” I say.

“What are you—”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Are you OK?”

He puts his book on the windowsill.

“What’s wrong with you? How did this happen?

How long have you had cancer?”

Dylan bites his lip, watching me. Then he stands up and pulls another chair over. I sit down. So does he. He pulls his chair close, our knees touching.

“Back in the summer, I found a bump on the back of my neck. It started to swell, so my mom made me go to the doctor,” he says. “They did some tests and figured out it was Hodgkin’s. So since then I’ve been getting treatments. Radiation every day at first, for weeks. Now I get radiation twice a week and blood work once a week to see how I’m doing.”

“So . . . you have cancer?” Tears well in my eyes.

He takes my hand. “It’s a form of cancer, yeah. It’s in my lymph nodes, but they caught it really early. It’s a pretty common cancer in teens. But things are looking good. I didn’t have to have chemo, only radiation, so I didn’t lose my hair or have any of the really bad side effects, which is good, I guess.”

“But on the chart it said today was your final treatment.”

He smiles. “Yeah. Oh wait—not in a ‘lost cause’ way,” he says, laughing, putting a hand on my knee. “Total opposite. They did more bloodwork just a few minutes ago, and I’ll find out soon if I have to do any more treatments at all, or if they’ve gotten rid of all the cancer. I’m pretty optimistic. In young people they say it’s highly curable, and that I could be totally cancer free.”

“So . . . you’re not a volunteer at all?”

He shakes his head.

“But not a deadbeat college dropout either?”

He laughs. “I deferred. To focus on getting better and to stay close to home. My mom was pretty shaken up. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I wasn’t telling anyone, really. I didn’t want their tilted heads, their sad, Poor Dylan eyes, you know?” He acts it out, and I let out a small laugh. “And you just assumed I was on the ‘music team’—which by the way, is so not a real thing. And I remembered about your dad. And I didn’t want to tell you I had cancer because, well, I didn’t want you to think of me as nothing but a cancer patient.”

“I definitely never thought that. With the bruises and the falling asleep and bringing Callie to the party. I thought you were a . . . slacker.”

“I really did fall asleep. It’s terrible. The radia- tion makes me so tired.” He shakes his head. “And Callie’s just a friend. Our moms are best friends. And even though she can be a bit possessive, she’s really sweet. She’s one of the only people who knows about the Hodgkin’s, so it’s just easy to be around her. I think I’m making her crazy talking about the elusive Philadelphia Greene, though.” He looks at me.

Neither of us says anything for a minute. There’s so much I want to ask him, but I don’t even know where to start. So instead I reach over, tentatively, and grab his hand, then give it a squeeze. “I get it.”

“I’m glad you know. Though I’m sorry this is how you had to find out.”

He squeezes my hand back and then it dawns on him. “The competition! How was it?”

I smile. “Second place.”

“You’re going to Tisch?”

I nod.

“Stand up. I want to shake the hand of the most talented photographer I know.”

I laugh as he stands, pulling me up, then grabs my right hand with his, shaking it goofily.

“Do you want to see my favorite photo from the display?” I ask once he’s dropped my hand. I reach into my bag, and pull out the envelope with the duplicates of the photos I used in my entry.

He studies the photo of the bench. “Where it all began,” he says, grinning.

“Where what did?”

“The relationship of Dylan McCutter and Philadelphia Greene.”

“We’re in a relationship?” I bite my lower lip,grinning.

“Philadelphia Greene, I think you’re one of a

kind. And you’re going to New York.” He shakes his head. “So impressive.”

I can’t stop grinning. “I owe you for the inspiration.”

“Oh really?” He raises his eyebrows. “Because I can think of a way you can repay me,” he says, play- fully kicking my toe with the toe of his shoe.

“How?”

“By letting me do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” He sets the photos on top of his book.

My stomach flips.

“What’s that?” I say, but I know exactly what he’s going to do. Finally.

“This,” he says, sliding his arms around my waist and pulling me close. I reach up to put my arms around his neck, closing my eyes as his lips brush mine, lightly at first, then with more intensity, and then, I can’t really think about anything else at all, and I lose myself in the moment. 

The End.

*If you liked this story, you can read Chapter 1 of the next book in the Pippa Greene Series here on Wattpad. It's called Depth of Field. 

Both The Rule of Thirds & Depth of Field are now available in paperback at your favourite bookseller, or ebook/epub for download. Thanks for reading!