Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Erica nods, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. “I thought that might be the case,” she tells me. “Head on up to bed, and in the morning, you can give me some ideas on how I can break the news to your mom.”
“Shit.”
“My thoughts exactly,” she says.
Zoey squeezes my hand as we make our way up the stairs, and I press my hand to her lower back, not liking the way she sways on the stairs. Pushing through her door, Zoey heads straight for her bed, not even having the energy to stop by the bathroom to wash off her makeup.
She kicks her shoes off and drops down onto her bed as I shrug out of my shirt and let my jeans fall to the ground. I climb in beside her, knowing I won’t be getting even a single wink of sleep tonight, but that doesn’t matter to me. She scooches in right beside me, and I pull her into me, her head resting against my chest as her legs become tangled with mine.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs into the darkness as we listen to the softening rain hitting the roof. “This wasn’t the plan I had for us.”
I feel her tears against my chest, and I hold her tighter, every second of this breaking my heart. “Plans change all the time, Zoey, but that doesn’t mean we have to go through this blindly. It just means that we have a chance to make an even better plan. But for now, my only plan is to see you smile every day of the rest of our lives.”
“I think I can manage that,” she tells me.
“Damn straight, you can, Zozo. You’re a fighter, and I’m not nearly done with you yet.”
44
Zoey
Five days after Noah’s football game, I climb out of my bedroom window and sit on the roof, watching the sun peek over the horizon. Today, my life will change, and for the next few months, I’m not going to know if it will be for better or for worse.
My hands shake in my lap as I try to hold myself together. Noah hasn’t left me for even a second since I told him my cancer returned on Friday night, even risking my father’s wrath to demand that he sleep here. Noah has always had the greatest respect for my parents and their rules, but there’s not a single line he won’t cross to remain by my side.
The morning rays are almost as bright as my determination used to be, but they give me hope.
Today, I start chemotherapy and the thought alone has me ready to double over.
I’m terrified.
I remember the day I started chemo over ten years ago, and I don’t remember feeling this way. I went in with my head held high, ready to fight. Perhaps that’s because I was so young. I didn’t truly understand what was happening to me. I didn’t know what was at risk, but now at seventeen, I know exactly what I want in life, and I’m terrified of slipping away and leaving this world behind before I’ve even really had a chance to live.
I sit out on the roof until the sun rises above the treetops, and as I turn to make my way back inside, I see Noah standing at the window, watching me with an unbelievable sadness in his eyes. I creep closer toward him, and as I come back inside, he steps into me, propping my ass on the window frame and brushing his fingers down the side of my face as though I were the most precious thing in the world. “Are you ready?” he asks.
I shake my head, trying to hold myself together. “Not even a little bit,” I admit.
He moves right in, pulling me into his warm arms. “You’ve got this, Zo,” he tells me. “Don’t think of how horrible it’s going to be, think of this as the start of the rest of our lives.”
My bottom lip pouts out, and I drop my forehead against his chest. “I wish you could stay today,” I tell him, hating how the treatment center only allows one person to remain with the patient during chemotherapy, and for today, that will be Mom.
“I know,” he tells me, his hand brushing over the back of my hair. “But the second you’re done, I’m going to be right there.”
I nod. “Are you heading back to college?”
“Yeah, as soon as you’re settled in your room, I’ll start driving back,” he tells me. “I’ve requested a meeting with Coach Sanderson and the Dean to see if there’s any kind of leniency they can give me. Coach isn’t going to budge on my training schedule, but he might allow me to log my gym hours in East View. As for my classes, I’m hoping they might allow me to livestream my lectures or take online classes so I can be here more often.”