The Last Page

I step into the elevator, clutching the piece of paper to my chest with shaking hands. The doors slide shut and the elevator jolts as it rises. Taking deep breaths, I try to steady myself. I feel a hand on my shoulder. My mom is looking at me with concern.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" She asks gently. 

No, of course I'm not alright. I nod anyway. She smiles a little. "I'll pick up your homework later, okay?"

That's the least important thing to me right now, but I manage to muster a grateful smile.

"Thanks, mom."

The doors open, and we make our way down the hall. We pass nurses and doctors, all going quietly about their business. When we reach the room, we stop. My mom turns and regards me with uncertainty.

"You're sure you can handle this?" She asks. No, I'm not sure, but I have to do this. I take a deep breath and nod. She opens the door.

The light of the setting sun paints the room a ghostly red. A monitor beeps softly. I gaze at the figure on the bed. He appears to be asleep, his chest rises and falls slowly. I don't know what to do, whether I should wait or come back later. I don't have time to think about it any longer, because his eyes open. He stares at me for a few seconds, as if trying to remember who I am, then slowly smiles. 

"Ferran." He mumbles.

"Hey, Tyson." I say, trying to steady my trembling voice. He struggles to sit up.

 "You don't have to." I insist, taking a few steps forward. He eases himself back down as I walk the rest of the way over to him, and sit down in the chair next to the bed.

I'm shocked at how frail he looks. He's so thin, his hospital gown hanging loosely on him. The dark circles under his eyes starkly contrast with his pale skin. His lips are chapped and faded, and his once messy, brown hair is gone. He watches me, waiting to see the reaction he must have gotten from everyone else. Alarm, pity, maybe even disgust. I don't want to do that to him. I breath deep and smile at him.

"It's nice to see you, Ty." I say.

He scoffs. "Really? It's nice to see me?" I bite my lip. That was the wrong thing to say. He takes a long, shaky breath. "I look awful. That's what my dad said." His gaze drifts to the piece of paper in my hands, which I had forgotten about. He frowns. "What's that?"

"It's the last page, Tyson."

His eyes go wide. "Really?"

I nod and offer it to him. He takes it from me with trembling hands. I study his face as he pours over it, watching his expressions shift. He always was a fast reader, best in our class in first grade. He flips the page over. When he finishes, he laughs to himself and looks up at me.

"It's wonderful, Ferran!" He exclaims. "I can't believe it!" He lets his head fall back and sighs. "You did it."

I reach out and take his hand. "We did it. Most of this is you."

He frowns, handing the page back to me. "Yeah, but you came up with the whole thing. And provided emotional support as well!"

I shake my head, folding the paper and tucking it in my pocket. "You wrote it, you should take the credit."

"Most of it. I wrote most of it." He corrects.

I chuckle. "Right, most of it. You should still take the credit."

He smiles softly. "No, not when you've been such a big help. Especially since I need you to take it the rest of the way." 

I look at him, puzzled. "What...what do you mean?"

He stares straight ahead. "You're gonna have to be the one to edit what I haven't. You'll have to publish it." 

Dread starts to grow in my chest. "But, you'll be there with me...right?"

He takes a deep breath and sits up, grasping my hand a little firmer.

"Ferran," He pauses. "This whole deal with me and...and the hospital bills...well...my parents just can't afford it. And if Ali's gonna go to college some day...I don't want to ruin her future." He looks up at me with regret in his eyes. "They can't afford me and that as well, so they're stopping my treatment."

I stare at him, unwilling to believe what I heard. Tears well up and spill down my cheeks. My throat tightens. "Tyson," I choke, unable to find the right words. "You can't!"

He shakes his head. "It was my choice, Ferran."

This can't be happening. I sob and throw my arms around him, hugging him as hard as I can. He grunts a little, but hugs me back.

"It's okay, buddy." He mumbles. I can feel his body shaking from effort. "It's okay."

I shake my head, burying my face in his shoulder. "No, it's not. You're my best friend, you can't go!"

"You'll find another best friend."

"No, I won't!" I pull out of the hug. "I won't!"

He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes. "Forget about me, you'll find someone else, I promise."

"I'll never find another friend like you...they won't be you!" I sob. "I can't forget you!" He watches me as I miserably choke on my feelings. 

He puts a hand on my shoulder and I look up. Tears are streaming down his face. "Ferran..." He pulls me back into a hug.

We sit there, rocking back and forth gently.

"How long do you have?" I ask.

"The doctor said two weeks at the most." He takes a deep breath. "I'm so scared, Ferran. I'm scared of the pain. It's gonna hurt so bad." His whole body quivers as he sobs. I don't know what to say. I wish I could comfort him, but I don't know how. I say the best thing I can think of, the true thing.

"I'll be there for you, Ty."

"Really?"

"Really."

He hugs me tighter. "Thank you."

We stay like that for a long time, until a nurse walks in and states that visiting hours are over. I look at Tyson. He smiles and hugs me again. When we pull away I feel the urge to cry more, to say I won't leave, that I'll stay until the end. I push it back, swallowing hard and standing up. I make my way to the doorway where my mom waits. 

Tyson's voice stops me. "Ferran," 

I look back at him. He sits there, pale and thin, smiling through his pain and the knowledge of what's to come. "See you later." 

And for what might be the last time, I wave goodbye to my best friend.