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(Bonus points if they tell us which doctors secretly hate each other.)

If you still want all of the tea about the nurses and doctors, just ask Wes. He’s the biggest gossip girl I know.

6. Any new sick kid must pass a vibe check before joining.

(They have to prove they’re funny, good at keeping secrets, and willing to break minor hospital rules.)

If Maya made it, tell her I said she can finally join the Sick Kid Club like I promised. She was always so insistent that she got to join when I told her about it.

7. Fake diseases must be diagnosed at least once per chemo session.

(Example: “Acute Jell-O Deficiency” or “Advanced Poked-To-Death-itis.”)

Diagnosis: Severe Post-Cam Heartbreak Syndrome (SCHS)

Symptoms:

• Persistent aching in the chest (most commonly triggered by thinking about my stupidly handsome face)

• Uncontrollable crying at random times of the day

• An overwhelming urge to yell at the sky for how unfair life is

• Inability to sleep without stealing my hoodies and sleeping with them

• Sudden bursts of laughter at memories that shouldn’t be funny but somehow are

Prognosis: 100% survivable, but only with proper treatment.

Cure:

• One daily hug from Kinsley and at least three sarcastic insults from Wes every week.

• An unlimited supply of hot chocolate (marshmallows mandatory)

• Wearing my hoodies until it basically becomes part of your skin.

• Talking to me like I’m still there—because I am, even if you can’t see me.

• And most importantly…keep living. Keep laughing. Keep loving.

Side Effects of Recovery:

• Random moments of happiness sneaking up on you when you least expect it

• Feeling me in the warmth of the sun, in the wind on your skin, in the quiet of the night

• Realizing that a love like ours never really leaves—it just changes form.

Final Prescription:

• Time and knowing that I’m still with you, always.

8. No being sad alone.

(If you’re feeling miserable, you have to tell the other person so they can be miserable with you. It’s the law.)

I’m passing the torch to Kinsley and Wes now. You’re not alone, Gab.