Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
She’d definitely been hiding something, though, and whenever I got that feeling from a woman, it tended to put me on offense. Yet another thing I could thank damn Anna for.
Chapter 3
* * *
Hollis – 14 years ago
“You suck.”
“I have cancer, dude.”
I reached over and knocked the backward baseball cap off Adam’s bald head. He’d buzzed his hair the other day after finding the first patch missing because of his treatments.
“Yeah. And if I found a magical pill to cure it tomorrow, you’d still suck at this game. So don’t try to play the C card with me. You already have Anna fooled.”
Adam wiggled his non-existent eyebrows. “I might pretend to pass out the next time I see her in the hallway, just so she can give me a little mouth to mouth.”
I gave him a good shove. He fell over on the couch, but the game controller never left his hands.
“Keep your mitts off my girl.” I pretended to be pissed, but of course I wasn’t. Adam was only thirteen, and my girlfriend was almost seventeen. He had about as much chance with her as a blizzard in July in New York. Plus, Adam and I were buds. He wouldn’t do that to me, even if he’d had the strength. He just liked to bust chops.
And anyway, I couldn’t blame him for noticing, Anna made little boys and their fathers turn their heads these days. It wasn’t easy dating a hot girl.
“Let’s play again. Double or nothing?”
“You already lost ten bucks I know you don’t have. Not sure I want to wear out my fingers trying to win a twenty I’ll never see.”
“Chicken shit.”
I shook my head and got up to hit the reset button. As I returned to the couch, Nurse Pam walked into the lounge.
“Hollis, your mom’s nurse just called down. She’s awake, and you need to get ready for school.”
“Thanks, Pam. I’ll head upstairs.”
“Saved by your mommy,” Adam said. “I was about to kick your ass in the rematch.”
I walked toward the door. “Sure you were. I’ll stop in later to show you how it’s done again.”
“Better yet, send your woman to show me how it’s done instead.”
I chuckled and went to the elevator. On the ride up to the ninth floor, I caught a glimpse of the time on the watch of the guy standing next to me. Six o’clock already. I couldn’t even remember what time I’d wandered down to the pediatric wing. It had to have been about three. Adam seemed to be the only person with more trouble sleeping than I had lately, so I’d figured he’d be up playing video games in the pediatric oncology patient lounge like he usually was.
I’d found that hangout three years ago, the first time my mom was admitted overnight. She always insisted I go home, but I didn’t like to leave her alone in case she needed anything—or in case anything changed with her health. On the nights I had trouble sleeping, I’d go hang out in the pediatric unit for a while—the place was stocked with snacks and video games. That’s where I’d met Adam the first time. And Kyle. And Brenden. And over the years, a shitload of other teenagers that were too young for cancer. Hell, my mother was too young.
This was the third time I’d seen Adam back in for a long stay. I didn’t like to bring up his illness because he’d once told me that us hanging out and playing video games made him feel normal. I didn’t treat him differently because he was sick like most everyone else did. I’d done that to the kids I met at the beginning—letting them win at games, not arguing over who would go first, helping them do stuff they wanted to be left alone to struggle with on their own. I learned my lesson fast. Treating them like any other kid was what they wanted. Especially Adam—his mother handled him like glass, and I knew he hated it. He wasn’t as fragile as she thought. But I also knew it wasn’t good that he was back in the hospital again. It wasn’t good for my mom either.
Some people liked to say third time’s the charm. But in my experience, third rounds of chemo were anything but. Over the years, I’d lost two friends I’d met here to cancer—both after third rounds.
Mom was on her fourth this time.
She put down the book she’d been reading when I walked into her room. “There you are. I was beginning to get worried you fell asleep downstairs on the couch and would be late for school again.”
“Nah. Just hanging out and kicking Adam’s butt in Grand Theft Auto.”
“Oh.” Mom frowned. “Adam’s back?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
I nodded and grabbed my backpack off the reclining chair that often doubled as my bed. “What do you have planned for today while I’m at school?”