What's Left of Me (22 page)

When I tell him I read at least three books a week, he’s astonished.
 
The only thing I can say in response is my favorite quote by Madeleine L’Engle.

 
“A book, too, can be a star, a living fire to lighten the darkness, leading out into the expanding universe.”

That sums it all up for me.

Tapping my foot against the seat to the beat of the music, I can’t get Wednesday out of my head.
 
My drugs are being changed to something stronger for my last two rounds.
 
Dr. Olson explained that in order to get my body prepared for the blood cells to be transferred back, I will need two different rounds of drugs, with the last two being the strongest.
 
All I took from that was the word strongest.
 
That means intense symptoms—or, worse, new ones.

I’ll get through.
 
I always do.
 
But I’m not sure I’m ready to give up my time with Parker.

“What are you thinking about?” Parker asks, breaking my stare out the window.
He’s wearing a blue and brown polo shirt and jeans, with his hair gelled just the way I like—messy, but sexy.

“Nothing important.”
 
Trying to figure out how to spend time with you while being sick.
 
“You?”

“This week.
 
Do you have class Wednesday?”

“Yeah.
 
I won’t be in the rest of the week.
 
Maybe not the following one either.”

“Why not next week?”

“I have a test and a project due that I need to spend some time on.”
 
That’s kind of the truth.
 
I do have a test and a project, but it’s not due for another three weeks, so I have plenty of time to procrastinate.

“Hmm. Well, you might need a dinner or movie break.
 
You know, to clear your head.”

“Yeah, I think I might.”
 
I give him a hopeful smile.

Or maybe it’s for myself.

Parker reaches over, taking my hand in his.
 
We stay like that for the rest of the ride.

The restaurant is a small Mexican place with a mariachi band moving from table to table.
 
Jean and her date haven’t arrived yet, but we’re seated right away.

“Are you coming to the Halloween benefit for The Love of Paws?”

“I didn’t know anything about it?”

“Really?
 
I was sure Genna would have mentioned it to you.”

“No, she didn’t.”
 
She probably figures I’ll be at home, curled up with my Kindle and not feeling well.
 
That’s one of the hard things I have to deal with.
 
People going out, having parties, and attending fun events without me.
 
I’ve become a forgotten soul.
 
Someone who will likely be too sick to go, so they don’t even bother inviting me.

“It’s two weeks before Halloween.
 
Saturday. I can’t remember the date offhand.
 
Nineteenth?
 
Eighteenth, maybe?”
 
He laughs at himself. “You’d think because it’s our benefit I would remember the damn date.
 
Anyway, it’s at the Landon Hotel and costumes are required.
 
We’ll have door prizes, silent auctions, a live band, drinks, and dinner.
 
Bryn mentioned something about a contest for best male and female costumes, too.
 
It should be a fun night!
 
All proceeds go toward the practice.”

“Bryn?”
 
Yes, I had to go there.
 
Why is she suggesting ideas for their benefit?

“The benefit was all Bryn’s idea.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun.”
 
Of course a beautiful girl like her would have a great idea like that.
 
She comes across as the type of girl who needs to be the center of attention in all that she does.
 
It wouldn’t surprise me if she went in a bra and thong to channel her inner Lady Gaga.

“What do you say?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

He laughs.
 
“To going?
 
With me?”

Did he really ask me that?
 
I must have been so caught up in my thoughts about Bryn that I wasn’t paying attention.

“Oh.
 
Um.”
 
I count the dates in my head.
 
That would be the weekend right after my last chemo treatment.
 
No wonder Genna didn’t tell me about it.
 
She knew I would be too sick to go.
 
“Maybe.
 
I’m not sure what my school schedule will be like.
 
That’s right around mid-semester break, so I might have a big test or a project to do.”

I’m disappointed.
 
I
really
want to go to the benefit.
 
Halloween is my favorite holiday.
 
Costumes, parties, decorating; it’s all entertaining to me.
 
I’ve never missed a year of dressing up.
 
I even went as Uncle Fester one year.
 
It was the only time I went out in public with no hair.
 
No one looked at me as if I was sick or like I didn’t belong.
 
My mom did my makeup to make it look as if I was wearing a bald cap.
 
It was one of my favorite Halloweens.

Jean arrives, saving me from the conversation.
 
The guy next to her is not quite my height.
 
He’s got sandy blond hair and dark chocolate brown eyes.

“Sorry we’re late!”

“It’s okay.”

Bending down, she gives me a brief hug before introducing me to the guy she’s with.
 
After learning his name is Tristan and exchanging greetings, I introduce her to Parker.

“Ah, the famous Parker.
 
It’s so good to finally meet you.
 
I can’t get Dre to shut up about you.”
 
She’s teasing, but it causes Parker to sit up taller.

Looking my way, he gives me wink.
 
“She seems to like making me the topic of conversation.
 
Which is good because I can’t shut up or stop thinking about her, either.”

My eyes widen at his words, as do Jean’s.

“Oh my God,” she sighs next to me, her eyes glistening at his words.

I look back at Parker and our eyes lock.
 
Searching them, I look for anything that says he’s joking.
 
Something that says his words don’t have much meaning behind them.
 
I need them to say we’re just friends, nothing more, but I don’t see that.
 
Instead, I see a guy who I’m developing feelings for, and who, I know, returns them.

We finish our dinner quickly, then pile in one car together to save on parking.
 
I can tell Jean really likes Parker; she taps my leg or grabs my hand when he says something she likes.
 
Which is almost everything.

Walking into Tainted, Jean and I are stopped immediately to show our I.Ds. The bouncer ushers Tristan and Parker through without even a look.

After I get my stamp of approval on the inside of my right wrist, Parker takes my hand and leads the way into the three-story night club.
 
We find a small table against the metal railing that overlooks the dance floor directly across from the stage.

The dance floor is considered to be on the first floor, but really it’s sunken down by a few steps.
 
There is a large staircase on either side of the club leading to the third level where there are more round tables.

Parker motions for me to take a seat, but Jean tugs on my free hand.
 
“Hey, we’re going to go get drinks.
 
Save our spot!” she yells over my shoulder to the guys.

Pulling me toward the bar, I yell, “I can’t drink tonight, remember?”
 
The music is blaring so loud I can’t even hear my own thoughts.

“Why?”
 
She still has my hand in hers, pulling me through the swarm of people.

I try yelling over the noise of the music and people but she doesn’t hear me, so I wait until we reach the bar.

“I’m getting my drugs changed Wednesday for the last two rounds.
 
I had specific instructions not to drink for at least five days prior.”

“No shit?”

“You’ll survive a night without me drinking.”
 
I laugh.

With a vodka cranberry, two beers, and water for me, we make our way back to the table.
 
I slide into the chair next to Parker.
 
His arm is resting on the back of my chair and once I’m seated he scoots his chair closer, bringing his other arm around my waist.
 
I give him a smile and hand him a beer.

“Not drinking tonight?”
 
He motions his beer toward the water bottle in front of me.

“Nah.”

We chat, dance in our seats, and laugh about anything and everything.
 
I’ve never seen Jean so into a guy.
 
She is hanging on his every word like they’re her lifeline, eventually making her way onto Tristan’s lap.

Shortly after the band comes on, I overhear Tristan yell in Jean’s ear that he wants to make his way down in front of the stage.
 
Glancing in that direction, I see the mosh pit already forming.
 
No way in hell I’m doing that!

Parker nudges my side.
 
“Doesn’t that look like fun?”

“No!”

Laughing, he takes a swig of his beer.
 
“Ah, come on, babe.
 
Just think of how close our bodies will be down there.
 
It will be like old times.”
 
He gives a slight wiggle to his eyebrows before rumbling out a deep laugh.

“Our bodies can be close right here.”
 
I scoot even closer to him, wrapping his arm back around my waist, putting my free hand in his, and clasping our fingers together.
 
“See.
 
We’re close.”

That causes him to laugh harder.
 
Jean and Tristan stop mid-conversation to look at us.

“What’s so funny?” Jean asks.

“Aundrea wants to go down in the mosh pit!” he yells between laughs.

“I do not!” I yell back over the music.

“Oh, come on, Dre!
 
Think of how fun it will be.”
 
She beams.

“No.”
 
I don’t feel like getting pushed around.
 
It’s not even the fact that I feel minor aches and pains in my joints.
 
I can push through that, but I can see me slipping on someone’s spilled beer and falling to my death in the middle of the sticky, dirty floor.
 
No one will be paying attention because they’ll be jumping and slamming to the music.
 
I’ll end up getting stomped on, kicked, and probably with someone’s bodily fluids sprayed all over me.
 
Or, worse, I’ll be pushed and my wig will go flying to the ground.
 
That does
not
sound like a good time to me.

“I think there’s a small opening in the center we can squeeze our way into,” Tristan points.

Or not.

Yeah.
 
The center.
 
Right in the middle of the action.

Parker and Jean both turn to get a better look.
 
I take this opportunity to look for the nearest exit sign because I’ll be using it a lot sooner than I intended.
 
There is no way I am risking losing my hair over this.

Clapping her hands, Jean bounces in her seat like a five year old.
 
“You’re right!
 
Come on, let’s go.
 
It will be so much better down there.”
 
She grabs Tristan’s arm, pulling him away from the table.

Better?
 
How is being pushed and shoved better?
 
I need this explained to me.

“Come on, Aundrea,” Parker says, standing.

He doesn’t take my shaking head as an answer because he starts to pull me up from my chair.

“I’ll keep my arm around you the entire time.
 
I’ll shield you from harm’s way,” he says protectively, while winking.

We walk side by side to the floor where all the crazies have formed.
 
Parker’s arm remains tight around my waist.
 
We stand in the back of the crowd away from the mosh pit.

Parker starts to dance and it’s nothing like our dancing before.
 
It’s carefree.
 
He’s
carefree.
 
He throws his hands in the air, dancing and screaming with the crowd.

He looks so young, like he hasn’t a care or worry in the world.
 
He’s free.
 
He has the largest smile on his face, fist bumping the air, splashing beer out of the bottle, and trying to sing along to the lyrics.