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“Hey Tay. I just went and met with an advisor to change my major. Now I need books for winter quarter,” I tell her.
She moves to the desk in the center of the library and I follow her. After she places the stack of books on the counter, she turns to me and gives me a quick hug.
All of my friends do this now. Hug me anytime they see me. I get it. I could have died. Shit, I still can. I’m not completely out of the woods yet. I don’t let them bother me, the hugs. I try to embrace them, no pun intended. Be grateful for the amazing friends I have and how much they care about me.
“That’s great,” she says. “What’s your new major?”
“Biology,” I tell her, letting a proud smile form.
Taylor squints at me.
“Biology?”
I know she’s surprised. Shit, I’m surprised. It’s a stark contrast to communications. A biology degree is something I never thought I’d go after and I knew my friends would be skeptical.
“Yup. I want to do cancer research.”
Her expression softens and her eyes take on a sheen.
Shit. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. I get nervous around people when they get emotional like this. It’s been one of the hardest parts about having cancer–besides the actual having cancer part. People have been getting teary-eyed around me for months and I don’t know what to say or do, especially when I’m the cause of the emotion.
When you think about it, my fear of other people’s emotions is probably why I’ve never made it past the fucking part of a relationship.
“Emmett, that’s great, really. Are you prepared to take on that kind of course load, though? I’ve heard it can be seriously—”
“I can do it,” I say, cutting her off.
My tone comes out harsher than I meant it to be. Taylor reaches out to me, placing a gentle hand on my arm.
“Yeah, you can Emmett. You definitely can.”
We stand there, letting the conversation we just had and the emotions of it settle between us for a minute.
“Well–let’s find your books, shall we?” Taylor says, her eyes bright again and her smile even brighter.
I pull out the list of books I’ll need, hand it to her, and we get to work scouring the rows of textbooks.
I’m lying across the couch in the barn the next day, scrolling through the names in my phone and getting increasingly more disappointed in myself.
Bridget -big boobs
Jessica - red lace underwear
Holly - Florida spring break hookup
The only girl names in my phone that aren’t labeled in this way are family, Tay, and Madison. Even Jackie, who everyone assumes I’ve hooked up with but I haven’t, is saved in my phone asJackie-Henderson’s Sloppy Seconds. I’m starting to think maybe I’m the asshole everyone assumes I am.
I originally thought I’d scroll through the names and pick a girl at random to call for some fun. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it, and I could use a distraction to get Aubrey out of my thoughts. But apparently dying, or almost dying, or living with cancer or whatever the fuck I’m doing—has upset my moral compass. Instead of calling one of the dozens of girls, I’m deleting the contacts. One by one.
Bye-bye Alicia who gives amazing blow jobs. See ya never Paige, who had a kink for doing it in my car in the middle of the day when we might get caught. It was nice knowing you Stephanie, who had a treasure trove of elaborate lingerie outfits.
By the time I’m done, there are only about six female contacts left in my phone, but I feel lighter. I feel renewed. It did nothing to help get the girl with the bright green eyes and fiery hair out of my mind, but that’s a problem for another day.
My phone rings in my hand–Jesse.
“What’s up?” I say, as I put him on speakerphone and lay the phone on my chest.
“Can you give me a ride?”
