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“Yeah, because I don’t think our moms were impressed with her skimpy shorts and tiny ass shirt.” I mean, I love skimpy clothes as much as the next guy, but I would never bring a girl like her home. Priscilla is captain of the cheerleading squad, she thinks in her little spazzy brain that she is supposed to be with a jock, and rumor is, she slept with half the baseball team.
“Well, that too.” He smirks but turns serious. “I have a tumor on my brain, Cuba.”
He studies me, taking in my reaction. I know he’s not lying although I wish he were. Now the look on his parents’ faces make sense. I try to analyze what he means but, my mind is refusing to.
“They’re going to try and get a sample of it,” he continues. Jackson knows me well enough to know I’m still sorting it out in my head. “They said it’s going to be difficult to get it all out, but hopefully they can get enough to test. It might be cancerous.”
I have to force out a humorless laugh. “Shut the fuck up J, what’s really going on?”
He narrows his eyes. “I’m not joking. I have tumor on my brain and there is a chance it’s cancer.”
A knot forms at the base of my throat, and I can’t swallow. “Jackson, stop playing.” My voice cracks. “Don’t play with me like that. You’re fine, man.” I have to convince myself he’s fine, so I need to convince him too.
Jackson takes a deep breath; his lips press into a thin line. “This is my fucking life, Cuba,” he grits out. “I can die. This isn’t a joke man.”
His blue eyes are glossing over and my heart stops. He can die. But he’s too young. We’re just kids, we just celebrated his twenty-first birthday a few months ago.
“Nah, man. You’re not going to die.” A tear slips down my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away. “You are not dying, J.”
Jackson chokes back a sob, tears now running down his face. “I don’t want to die.”
Grabbing his hand, I shake my head. “You’re not going to die, man.”
“We have too many girls to fuck, C.” He tries to joke but it falls flat. “We have dreams.”
“And they’re going to come true,” I tell him. “You’re going to be good.”
We fall silent, but I don’t let go of his hand. I let him cry, and I don’t say anything. He doesn’t need me to, he just needs me here. My mind is still trying to process what is happening. But only four words are repeating in my head.
Tumor. Cancerous. Cancer. Die
I jolt up awake, sweat forming on my forehead, with shaky hands I wipe at it with the back of my hand. What the fuck? I haven’t dreamt of that day in months. I rub my eyes, adjusting to the darkness, I’m in my room. Of course, I am, where else would I be?
A hand slides against my bare stomach and I jump back, falling off the edge of my bed. I curse under my breath, trying to balance myself on one hand on the floor.
“Babe, are you okay?” Bliss looks over the edge, her blonde hair in a messy knot on her head. “Babe?” she says again yawning.
Somehow, I manage to get myself on the bed and upright. Bliss is lying on her side looking up at me in the darkness. Grabbing my phone, I see it’s three in the morning, but I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep.
Leaning over, I caress her face and she leans into my touch. “I’m okay, get some sleep.”
She nods slowly as her eyes flicker closed. I watch her for a few more moments before sliding off the bed and heading downstairs. My mind is a mess, I have no idea why these dreams are starting back up, and I would really like them not to, not right now at least.
Falling back on my couch, I rub my face and groan. It doesn’t help I’m surrounded by him. I refused to redecorate or move any of his things because I couldn’t handle the change. I still can’t.
My chest tightens, painfully… I miss him so much. I miss sitting in this very living room playing video games and talking shit. I miss Jackson waking me up at the crack of dawn to make me do an early morning work-out. I just miss him being here, being the good guy to my bad. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I get to move on while he doesn’t. It’s not fair that I’m falling for this great, fucking girl while he will never get to fall for anyone. I get to live out our dreams while he haunts mine. It’s not fucking fair, and I want to scream. I want to hit something.
Balling up my fist, I squeeze my eyes shut, tears escape as I pound into the couch cushions. I hold in my scream, making my chest feel as if it will burst from the pressure.
“Bow.” I hear her before I feel her slide onto my lap, straddling me, her arms wrap around me, and I let her bask me in her warmth. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head against her chest. Her fingers glide against my wet cheeks to dry them.
“Is it about Jackson?” she asks, and I nod. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Again, I shake my head, wrapping my arms tightly around her small waist. Bliss lets me hold her while she embraces me, and I can’t remember the last time I have been this calm since losing Jackson.
I need her, and I hate it.
