Date: Thu, 17 Feb 2011 22:07:50 -0800 (PST) From: Joey Young Subject: Untitled Love Story, Chapter 6 Usual disclaimers apply. This is a complete work of fiction. All rights reserved by the author. If you are underage, object to gay erotic fiction, or it's illegal where you are, please leave now. Send all comments to Joey Young at untitledlovestory23@yahoo.com Untitled Love Story Chapter 6 "Caleb, is in stage three of the cancer," explained Dr. Cater, "which is rapidly reaching stage four." My mom gawked at her 56 year old boss, "Are you certain? Where are his x- rays?" He pulled his arm from behind his back and handed my mom glossy black paper with my x-rays. "As you can see, we took a full x-ray of his chest and face," he continued, "and we thought that the cause of his nose bleeding was due to a fractured nose, or maybe another problem in his brain. So we x- rayed his skull, but found no other alternatives." "Except," he paused momentarily. "Except?" my mom asked nervously and placed a small delicate hand over her mouth. He then pulled out another x-ray from behind him and pointed to the image on the page. It was of my head this time, but he wasn't pointing to my nose. He was pointing at my throat. "The tumor has grown rapidly, since the last time." he said somberly. "It has fully encompassed his trachea, lymph nodes, and much of his neck. If we were to operate it would be almost impossible to extract the entire tumor. Not to mention the risks involved with the operation." "With its rapid growth, I would expect it to reach his chest eventually. I'm surprised to see hardly any signs around his throat at all. Normally it would be evident that he had a tumor, but his neck was perfectly fine. It was subtle this time and snuck up on us, without warning." "Other than the bruises from the choking," he said, "we would've never known." I stared in disbelief. I was right. I slowly shook my head back and forth, trying to will myself away from this suddenly cramped room. "Now what I suggest is an immediate treatment of radiation therapy. We could start with the chemo as early as next week. In the meantime I could prescribe you some immune efficiency medication to help you fight off some of the side effects. They might work, but it depends on how aggressive your condition is." He pulled out my chart, "I see that you suffer, from chronic nosebleeds, fatigue, and dizziness. Am I right?" "Yes," I replied distantly. He nodded as if he needed to confirm my response. "Well this is just the first wave of symptoms I'm afraid," he said still reading my chart, "if not handled right away, it will get worse." I slowly shook my head again, "I'm sorry, but no Dr. Cater." Dr. Cater quickly looked up from the charts. His faced blanched in surprise. He looked to my mom for an answer. "Honey!" my mom exclaimed. "No," I repeated finding my voice, "I'm refusing the treatments offered." My mom frowned at me and turned back to Dr. Cater. "He doesn't know what he's saying," my mother said to the doctor, "he will take the treatments." "Mom, no," I replied, "I know what I'm talking about, and I refuse the treatments." Dr. Cater silently closed his charts and hooked his pen back into his pocket. "I'm going to let you two, talk in privacy," he said and stepped out of the room. I turned to my mom and addressed her fully. "Mom I'm 18 now. I can make my own decisions for my future." "No. Not of this magnitude. This is too important." "Mom," I said my voice thick and gravelly. "I saw what the treatments did to dad and he still left us. The radiation therapy almost killed me last time, my kidneys shut down, and I was so raw nobody could touch me. . . I've been in and out of hospitals since I was little. I've always been in here. Either getting checkups, taking medications, or pushed through machines. . . . Pretty soon the treatments won't work and my body will eventually shut down." She was slowly shaking her head with her eyes closed. I grabbed her hand and held it in mine. "I'm dying," I whispered so fiercely she let out a small whimper, "you know that. I know it. Doc knows it. And I'm not getting any better." Her hand squeezed back with great intensity. She lifted her head and stared into my eyes. Her eyes. Our eyes. The beautiful dark auburn eyes that made us ordinary. "I just don't want to spend what little time I have left, stuck in a hospital bed, away from my family and friends... So please mom, please don't be my nurse . . . be my mother." "I want to be home with you, Stace, and Justin. I want to finish my senior year and graduate. I want to wear that cheap polyester cap and gown. I want to earn that diploma by attending school, rather than just getting it because I might die. I know what I want. . . . . And what I want is a normal life. Whatever that entails, for as long as possible." "Please, mom," I begged to her tortured expression. She contemplated for a moment. I could see reason start to dawn on her tired face. She stared into my eyes, for an immeasurable moment, before she moved from my bedside and walked to the blinds. She stood there for a while reflecting. "Your father hated this hospital too," she remarked and stayed near the blinds. "He said that it slowly drew the life out of him. He never wanted to come here for checkups. But every time he did. For us." "Mom," I whispered my throat thick. "He always said we were the reason he kept coming, but I knew it took a toll on him. So one day I told him he didn't have to come. That the doctor's said it was his choice whether to come or not." She turned then, "But he still did. Despite his freedom, he arrived." I watched as she moved back to my bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress and stared down at me. She was always so beautiful to me. Her soft delicate features always reminded me of a rose petal. Her dark mahogany hair was always tied up into a loose bun. The bun that meant she was hard at work. The bun that only came undone on warm sunny days, when the breeze carried it on the wind. This was my mother. The lovely woman who always protected me. And here I was breaking her heart. "He did insist on one thing though," she said as she softly grazed my cheek. "What?" I asked quietly and rested my hand on hers. She smiled down at me and tears gradually pooled her eyes, blurring her brown irises. "That I would always give you your freedom," she whispered, her voice breaking at the end. "I never knew what he meant, until now. He gave up his for us. But he always wanted you to have that option even when he couldn't offer it." My lip quivered and for the first time in a long time, I felt like a little kid. I buried my head into her shoulder and stifled the unshed tears, from falling. Her hand lightly patted my back, while the other softly ran through my hair. Eventually she pulled away and called Dr. Cater back into the room. "Have you decided?" he asked as he walked through the door. "Yes," she said as she continued staring at me. "Were going home and having dinner. We won't be needing the treatments." I calmly stared back at her and eased down from the bed. "Are you sure Trudy? Without treatment the cancer will only become more aggressive." "Were sure," she replied and left the room, giving me time to get dressed. "Caleb are you sure?" he asked with a frown, after my mother left. "We do have treatment plans to fight this cancer. I can get you all the chemotherapy you would need, the oncologists to treat you, and the right medications you can take daily." "I'm sure," I replied calmly. "I can't handle another year of treatment therapies. Not if there's a possibility of another return. Which, let's face it, will always return no matter what treatments we throw at it." I shrugged on my clothes and turned to face him, "You know I always knew the cancer hadn't gone, even though you were sure. In the smallest recesses of my mind I knew it was never going to be gone. I could feel its presence inside of me, waiting to emerge. I had just hoped it finished me off before I came back here." "Is that why you never told us about the symptoms?" he asked and placed a hand on my shoulder. I immediately shrugged it off. His frown deepened, but I continued, "I'm just tired of fighting Dr. Cater. I'm tired and I want to go home." He stared at me for a few seconds and finally said, "Well let's get you home then." ~*~ My mother was waiting for me in the lobby with Justin and Stacey. I hadn't noticed how bad she looked until I saw her just then. She looked extremely worn and tired. She actually looked her age of 48. The laugh lines framing her eyes and mouth were now age lines. Her usually glossy hair was now flat and lifeless along with her hollow eyes. She saw me and gave me a weak smile. "Let's go," she said and lightly placed my arm around her shoulders to help support my weight. "Justin, Stace?" I turned back gesturing them to follow. When I did, they were motionless with stress. I could see that this was taking a toll on them too. Stacey's eyes and nose were red from crying. Her beautiful black hair was tied up into a sloppy ponytail. Justin was holding her under his arm staring off into the distance, his mind obviously somewhere else. "You told them?" I asked my mom. She just nodded and looked away. Stacey heard me too. "Of course she told us, Caleb!" she practically yelled, fresh tears streaming down her face. "Who else would? You?" She broke out of Justin's hold and stood firmly across from me. She strode over to me, here ponytail swinging with the effort. I thought she was going to come swinging, so I limped out of my mom's arms and raised my arms in protection. Instead she hugged me fiercely. Her messy hair creating a little curtain around my face. My ribs protested in agony, but I powered through it and hugged her back. I could feel her sobs shaking us both. Her loud wails of grief filled my eardrums, but I did not cry. I had accepted my fate long ago. This was just the small wrinkle I knew would come with my decision. I held her patiently and waited out her sobs. At one point I thought she was done until I felt someone else hug us and she instantly erupted again. It was Justin. He hugged us both, in a comforting gesture. "Why, Caleb?" she asked repeatedly between sobs. "Why?" I didn't answer, but continued to shush her soothingly. Justin helped too, by lightly rocking our little circle and combing the back of her hair. I could see Justin's glossy eyes, behind his tough exterior, and felt deeply appreciated. His hair too was a messy disarray and his face was set into hard lines of grief. I felt immense love in this one gesture, but also heartbreaking guilt for the damage I was causing. Eventually, Stacey's sobs turned into soft whimpers, which told me she was done crying. I softly pulled myself from her arms and gave her a reassuring smile. "It will be all right, Stace," I said calmly. She let out a soft whimper and leaned into Justin's side for support. "Were the three amigos, remember?" They smiled grimly, but didn't say anything. I turned then and stared at them all. "So are we good?" I asked all three of them. "With my decision I mean?" They all exchanged a guarded glance, but nodded in agreement. "Good," I replied, "well let's get home, I'm starving." They didn't smile, but followed me and my mom out. Before I made it outside, I limped past a reflective window, and saw my face. I gasped in horror. My bottom lip was red and fat, with a thin cut making its mark. My left cheek was slightly bruised and cast a purple shadow under my eye. I had a fairly good sized gash on my forehead, which throbbed every time I moved my head. But that was the least of my injuries. My neck was red and purple where Alley's minions had choked me. The image of my trachea on the x-ray also haunted my mind, as I stared at my neck. But the spot that hurt the most was my bruised ribs. They screamed with pain, whenever I moved my torso. Justin and Stacey stopped too as I leaned against my mom's shoulder and stared at my reflection. "Don't worry, honey, the bruises will fade in a couple of days," my mom said as she squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. I turned away, and smiled at all of them. "Man, I could kill the guys who did this to you," Justin said, seething with anger. "I could kill Alley," Stacey said with the same tone as Justin, "When I see her in school, I will." "Stacey. Justin." my mother chastised. "Now I know you're concerned for Caleb's well-being, but let's leave the justice up to the police, okay?" I nodded somberly in agreement. "Wait, you're not mad at what those guys did to Caleb?" Stacey asked astonished. My mother's calm pretense suddenly fell away, "Of course I'm angry. If it were up to me, I would lock those three away and throw away the key." "They hurt my only child. I could quite literally rip their heads off and spit in their necks, if it would make my Caleb happy. But in light of what I found out today. I'm mainly concerned with spending the next few months with Caleb, and letting the judicial officials deal with those delinquents." We all three, stared at my mom in awed glory. We had never seen my mom like this before, and to be honest it was quite entertaining. Usually when she was mad the most she did was scold. "Wow, Mrs. P." Justin replied, not finding the right words to convey his surprise. I smiled in appreciation, "Rip their heads off, huh?" She laughed in embarrassment, "I was never good with violent threats." That had us all bursting with laughter. I could feel my ribs strain with agony at the effort. My lungs expanded and contracted with laughter. I was snorting and clutching my side with both pain and pleasure. Suddenly, they stopped laughing and stood frozen. I straightened up quickly and looked at them with an amused expression. "What?" I asked. "Did my mom stop being funny?" "Honey, your nose." my mom said, pointing at my face. I reached up and quickly dabbed at my nose. Stacey whimpered quietly as I wiped away the small amount of blood. "Boy, do I know how to kill a moment." I joked, with a laugh. They didn't. "Come on guys," I prodded, "that was my best line tonight." "That's enough Caleb," my mom said harshly. "You may be fine with accepting your condition, but we still haven't gotten used to it. Some sympathy would be nice, don't you think?" That was a blow to my hardened heart, "I didn't mean to up-" "Forget it, let's go." she said, and started limping me out of the hospital's main entrance. I looked to Justin and Stacey for support, but received a defeated expression. They followed after me and my mom. Nobody said anything the entire time we were in the car. We dropped off Stacey and Justin at Justin's house, where Stacey's mom was to pick her up. They didn't return my goodbye, but just stared at me and gestured to my mom, mouthing 'talk to her'. I nodded in reassurance. When they left, I turned to my mom, "I didn't mean to sound heartless back there, mom. I just deal with this better, if I'm joking." She didn't say anything for a long time. Finally she turned the car off and exhaled loudly. "Caleb," she said and turned to address me. "Ever since your father died, I have been waiting for the other shoe to drop." I couldn't look at her devastated expression so I just stared at my hands. "I watched you the entire first year after he was gone," she continued, "and at the first sign trouble I took you into the hospital. What I can't get my mind around - what bothers me the most is that you kept this from me. For over a month." "You hid this secret from me, for so long, when we could have stopped it earlier. I just feel so betrayed and disappointed in you. But then feel guilty too, for feeling this way. I just can't see the justification for keeping this secret." I looked up and saw her face was serious, but resigned with grief. "Please, Caleb, all I want to know, is why? Why have you hidden and lied to me, the most fatal secret you could keep. Why?" Suddenly my heart felt swollen with grief. My eyes pricked with unanswered tears. I had hurt the one parent I still had. "Mom," I said, my voice cracking with sadness, "I never wanted to hide this from you. I just wanted to keep our life normal." "I didn't want you worrying over my problems, when you had other things to focus on. I did all this to keep you safe. I didn't want to pollute our happy life, with my sickness. I wanted to just be a normal teenager, with normal problems. I never asked to be sick, but I have accepted it as an inevitable part of my existence." "Ever since I was first diagnosed with this cancer, and went through the treatment therapies, I knew I wouldn't be able to go through it again if it came back. But I did every other year, like dad did, throughout my childhood." She sighed at the mention of my father and rested her hands on the steering wheel. "Mom, to be honest I knew it was still there. Even though Dr. Cater said it was gone. I could still feel its sticky black presence in my body. I just waited until it came back, before deciding to keep it a secret. Because I knew that if I went through the whole process again, I wouldn't make it." "This was supposed to be my greatest year," I smiled at the idea of it and saw my mom look at me. "It was my senior year and I was scared. I was scared I would never get the chance to complete my full school year, without being tubed to a bed. I was afraid to hand over my high school experiences without even fighting for them. I was afraid I would never walk down that carpeted stage, receive my diploma, and meet you at the end. I was afraid you'd never see me ceremoniously pull my tassel over my face, in one of those cheesy graduation moments. Most of all, I was scared of missing the small moments with you and my friends." "We were all heading off to college, next fall, and I didn't know when I was going to see them. Or if I was even going to be out of the hospital to even go. But now," I breathed refreshingly. "Now I have the chance to spend as much time with the people I love, before I leave permanently. I don't want to die in a hospital bed. I want to live as long as possible, before this sickness takes me away." "To be imprisoned in a hospital for years, fighting off this condition would just be another death to me. But this path lets me say goodbye the right way, and gives my loved ones a proper farewell. We have months, maybe even a year before I leave, so let's not spend anytime arguing. Let's, just enjoy what little time we have together, and live life as normally as possible. Don't feel sorry for me. I have lived a full comfortable life, with people who truly cared about me. I'm just ready to move onto the next cycle in my existence." "So to answer your question. I didn't tell you because I knew it would eventually get out, but I didn't envision this. I had hoped to have enough time to tell you truthfully under the right circumstances." I moved then and rested my hand over my mom's on the steering wheel, "I love you, mom. You know I do. But soon it will be my time to die, and this is my chance to finally start living. Please, don't be angry. But don't force yourself to be happy, either. If you're sad or upset tell me, so we can hash it out. I want to make this as easy as possible for you." "Just know that I'm happy with my decision. And that if there was any other way to cure this sickness, without radiation. I would do it. For you." I hugged her then with fierce intensity. She hugged me back just as fierce, but remained silent. After a while she spoke, "Caleb, are you sure, this is what you want?" "Yes, mom," I said confidently, "it's the only possible solution I see." "But the treatmen-" "Yes, the treatments could help or do nothing at all." I cut her off, exasperated. "There clinical trials, mom. They will do more harm within the next few months than there worth. I would rather battle through this on my own. Who knows, maybe I could fight this off myself." She smiled at my enthusiasm, despite my melancholy disposition. "Alright," she sighed tiredly, "I accept your decision and fully support it. I however will keep looking for another alternative. We will get through this. I just wish you would change your mind." I stared at her anguished face, "I'm sorry, mom. Maybe in time, someone will find a cure." She smiled again, but this time grimly. "You ready?" she asked. I nodded quietly. "Okay, let's go home and change your bandages." She drove home silently, her thoughts clearly somewhere else. I switched the radio station a few times, before settling on a station playing the latest pop song. I stared outside, watching the lights of nearby houses stream by in a blur of colors. I tried to keep my thoughts centered around school next week, but always went back to that girl and Dante. She had grabbed him as if they had already met on a personal basis. My heart cramped a little, but I fought the lump forming in my throat. I didn't like not knowing, but I feared the truth more. I feared going through the whole secret relationship again. I feared my growing sickness. I feared where my future was headed. In the beginning of my story, the future seemed so bright. But then everything turned out to be so evil. I didn't even know why I was still surprised. It had happened before. Dante was supposed to be my angel, but I guess even angels have their wicked schemes. For now, my mind was set. I would have to just wait for my answer. For now, it will just have to remain a mystery. The song had changed. Now it was playing a softhearted country ballad, which caught my attention. I never really had an inclining for country, but this song summed up my situation in a nutshell. The voice singing was soft and peaceful. It reminded me of the calm waters after a storm. If I die young bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song Oh oh oh oh Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby The sharp knife of a short life, well I've had just enough time If I die young bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song The sharp knife of a short life, well I've had just enough time And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger I've never known the lovin' of a man But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand There's a boy here in town says he'll love me forever Who would have thought forever could be severed by The sharp knife of a short life, well I've had just enough time I listened while I continued to stare out the window. We passed the high school, which looked different at night. Like a prison with its iron gates, and shadowy architecture. I yawned a bit and felt for the first time my exhaustion catching up to me. The girl continued to sing, and I just listened to the soft guitar strums. The lyrics passing through my mind. A penny for my thoughts, oh no I'll sell them for a dollar They're worth so much more after I'm a goner And maybe then you'll hear the words I been singin' Funny when you're dead how people start listenin' If I die young bury me in satin Lay me down on a bed of roses Sink me in the river at dawn Send me away with the words of a love song Oh oh The ballad of a dove Go with peace and love Gather up your tears; keep 'em in your pocket Save them for a time when you're really gonna need 'em oh The sharp knife of a short life, well I've had just en- But I turned the radio off with one quick flick of my wrist. I exhaled audibly and rested back into my seat. My mom eyed me silently, but didn't say anything. The little voice in the back of my head spoke for the first time again. You can't control the things that happen to you, Caleb. But you can control your reactions to them. It whispered into my stubborn ears. I ignored it and sulked, while we drove past street lamps. I hated feeling guilty. The song and my stupid little conscience immediately conjured up that feeling within me. It was an ugly emotion I hardly expressed. I hated it because I knew my conscience would eventually have me bending to its will again. I felt guilty for betraying my family, and I felt guilty for lying to Dante. But most of all I felt guilty for questioning his secrets when I had my own. Instantly it dawned on me. I've been too selfish to see it before. If I was too fully accept this disease and all its destruction there was only one thing for me to do. I would tell Dante. Hopefully he will be just as susceptible to my news as my mom. I smiled at the idea. Suddenly, I saw my familiar street sign -declaring Buffalo St. - flash by. We were home already. I could make out my light blue house a couple blocks down. The porch light was on, which was no surprise; we always forgot to turn it off. But that wasn't what caught my attention. No, what caught my attention was the dark silhouette standing on the porch. I stiffened in response, "Mom, who is that?" Her eyes squinted, before she said, "I don't know, I can't tell." I kept staring at the dark figure, as we pulled up to the house. My mom slowed to a stop on the side of the road, instead of pulling in. I looked at her confused, but she merely gestured to the driveway. "Justin's car is in the way," she said, as she drove forward, parking on the side of the street. I glanced at the car as we passed, and already knew who was on the porch. It's now or never, I thought while slowly easing off my seatbelt. My stomach did little flips in the air as I moved to open the door. My mom came to the passenger side and slowly lifted me out of the car. She made sure not to cause me any pain. Once out of the car, I leaned heavily on her shoulder and we both walked up the driveway to the house. Dante's dark figure was stiff and hardened with tension, as my mom walked me to the porch. He immediately took over for my mom and lifted my up into his arms. I gasped in surprise. My mom surrendered willingly, her face a mask of shock. Dante cradled me to his chest and made sure to keep his arms away from any bruised spots. He carried me to the small porch swing off to the side. My mom followed, her face no longer surprised. She began to tell Dante about my injuries. He set me gently on the swing, eyeing me carefully, before sitting next to me. "He has a couple cuts above his eye and on his lip. A bruised muscle, rib, and face, including his neck." she listed offhand. Dante flinched whenever she named a body part, which was often, but his face showed no other emotion. Good, I thought. This would make my news easier to present. My mom continued on, in a detached tone, "He had a minor concussion, nothing major. But he will need constant bed rest, for his injuries to heal. Other than that, he will be just fine." She said the last sentence with such sorrow; I looked up to see if she was alright. But her face was also a mask, showing no emotion. I turned back to Dante, who was motionless, staring at my face. "I'm going to go to bed," my mom said before slowly leaving. "Night mom," I said quietly, as she softly closed the door behind her. I looked to Dante again, but he was still a silent statue. I leaned back into the swing, which slowly rocked back and forth. I smiled sheepishly at him, trying to thaw out his cold expression, but instead saw an even colder stare. "Dante," I said clearly unprepared for his sudden anger, but I hardened my expression too. "I need to tell you something. Something important." He sighed and held up a hand stopping me. He lifted a hand to squeeze the bridge of his nose. He shook his head back and forth before turning back to me. "What happened, Caleb?" he asked in a serious tone. "Why did those guys attack you?" I froze in surprise. That's not what I thought he was going to say. I tried to rearrange my thoughts. I blinked, and swallowed loudly before answering. "Those guys," I began, unsure as to where to start. "Those guys attacked me because I made their sister very angry." He held my gaze with steady control, "Why?" "Because - because," I stammered trying to explain my complicated life. "Because, I'm the one who basically broke her and Drew up." I said it all in one quick breath, averting my eyes from his calculated gaze. I waited for a response, but only heard the breath blow out of him. I looked up hesitantly, and saw that his face was finally back under control. "I see," he finally said, and he leaned back into the swing. I watched him as his legs sprawled out in exhaustion, and his head fell back. His caramel skin was pulled tightly around his neck, showing his large Adam's apple. His shirt pulled back with his arms, and revealed his well-defined pecs underneath. I could slightly make out the dark round shapes that were his nipples below the thin cotton shirt. His pants were loose, but pulled tightly on his groin, leaving nothing to the imagination. I scooted closer, and touched his shoulder. He flinched once, but relaxed instantly. His head lifted up, and gazed at me, as if it were the first time he saw me. I scooted a little closer, making the swing shudder with my movements. His arm moved from his lap and reached to my face. I thought he was about to caress my cheek, but he placed his hand on my shoulder, stopping me. "Caleb, wait," he said as he closed his eyes and looked away, "I have to tell you about that girl first. Please just listen." I pulled my shoulder from his grasp at his words, dreading the tone of his voice. I don't want to hear this, I don't want to hear this, I chanted in my head, as I stared at his somber expression. But I stayed rooted in place, unable to leave. "I work with her, at the theatre," he continued, while keeping his eyes away from me, "and I thought I would have enough time to do this before you found out. . . . She's my girlfriend." He finally looked up, and stared into my eyes. I could feel the despair wrap tightly around me, squeezing the few beats my heart made. I was unaware of my head shaking in denial, until his rough hands clamped around my cheeks. I looked down at the wooden graving of the porch swing, unable to look elsewhere. "Caleb, please," he pleaded trying to make me look at him, "I never meant to hurt you. This was way before I met you. She helped me transition into my new life here. Please, you've got to understand." I finally looked up into his devastated face. I tried to see his side of the story, but couldn't. All I kept thinking. All I kept seeing. Was Drew. Drew having a whole different life outside of me, while I waited in the dark, hoping to get some recognition. I knew it wasn't fair to Dante, if I made this comparison, but my heart just wasn't up for more agony. I drew his hands away from my face, and scooted away. His face flickered from pain to disbelief. I knew that my news no longer applied. He couldn't handle the added stress of my sickness. It would just weigh me down even more. My heart throbbed at the realization. "Caleb, please, you've got to believe me," he whispered with passion. I shook my head, "No, i don't." "Caleb," he whispered in despair, "don't do this, please." He immediately cleared the small distance between us and pulled me to him. I hissed in pain, but he didn't seem to notice. "Caleb, I love you," he said with blazing determination. His hazel eyes flickered with heat. I shook my head stubbornly. I couldn't get over the fact of his lie and this only added more to my confusion. "I'm sorry, Dante," I whispered, "but love just feels like an open invitation for more pain at this point." His arms tightened around me in response. "You don't mean that." he said with such confidence, I was sure he was talking to himself. I gently pulled out from his embrace, and scooted back. I watched him carefully as I moved away. His face was a mixture of disbelief and sorrow, but I didn't even know what I felt. My head swam with incoherent thoughts and emotions, making me dizzy with sadness. "No, I do," I replied my voice croaking. "But what I don't get is, why now? Why suddenly decide to tell me now?" "I mean, your clearly understood my intentions," I continued. "I was so obviously, stupidly in love with you. But you-" I stopped then and wiped my nose. "I wasn't looking for this," I whispered as I stood up, flinching when my bruised leg throbbed with the effort. "I was doing just fine by myself, on my own." "Just fine," I whispered, tears starting to form. "I didn't want to fall in love. I just wanted to have a little fun. But then you came-" My face softened as I stared at him, "You came and swept me up and I was done. Done being an emotional wreck. Done settling for anything less than what I deserved." He reached for my hand then and whispered, "Caleb, I'm sorry." I shook my head and slipped my hand out of his grip, "So tell me. How am I supposed to move on after hearing something like this? After I've fallen in love with someone who's always unavailable." "Cuz I don't see any possible solution." A tear escaped just then and I wiped it away furiously. "Goodbye, Dante," I said as I limped feebly to my front door. I was halfway there before he suddenly materialized in front of me, blocking the door. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, Caleb," he said looking at the floorboards, making me feel some semblance of guilt. "But I won't apologize for meeting Amber." That immediately caught my attention, and I stiffened in pain. He looked at me at that point and saw my look of shock. I stared at him trying to see a ploy, but only saw pure honesty. "She helped me when I first moved her and she was one of my first friends," he continued, while still holding my gaze. "I just thought you should know, since were officially done." I felt the hard lump in my throat at those words, which only reminded me of the tumor lodged there. I straightened up, and wiped all emotion off my face. I will not cry, I will not cry, I continually chanted to myself, while trying to remain calm. It worked; my eyes stopped burning momentarily as Dante kept speaking. "What I will apologize for, is not telling you soon enough," he said with same calm tone, "and for letting it go on for this long. I just hope someday, you'll find a different excuse to end a relationship, rather than waiting for that excuse to come in a lie. Hopefully, the next person is lucky with you." "And when you do the psychoanalysis here," he continued and glared at me. "You have no one to blame but yourself." It felt like someone had slapped me, my face twitched once, but I managed to remain impassive. I clutched my chest in agony, but remained standing as he nodded and turned away. He walked down the porch, not giving me another glance. I stood there frozen, not knowing what to do. I heard the start of Justin's car and saw the headlights sweep across the lawn, but still I remained standing. It's for the best, the little voice commented in the back of my head, trying to soothe me. Shut up!!! I screamed in my head. Shut up, shut up, shut up. Just go away. The little voice left, leaving me alone in my own despair. My knees finally gave out under my sudden wave of anguish. I crumbled to the floor, feeling as if someone had punched the breath out of me. I tried to hold onto what little resolve I had left. To at least stand up and go inside. But couldn't find the strength. Suddenly I heard the front door open behind me and a sliver of light spilled out from the doorway. My mom stood silently in the doorframe, before kneeling next to me. She didn't say anything, but merely pulled me into her side. I immediately started to cry, staining her nightgown with my tears. She held me there while I released all the emotions I had felt today. I cried for my family. For the anguish and despair I caused them. I cried for Dante, who deserved someone better than me. I cried for my predicament. For the impossibility that always seemed to follow me. I cried for each and every action I made that caused anyone some pain, until my tears ran dry. Eventually, my whimpers became sniffles, and my body relaxed. My mom pulled back and looked at me, making sure I was truly finished. I tried smiling at her, to reassure her I was done, but failed at the attempt. Instead, I pulled away and tried to get up. She seemed to notice what I was doing and helped me to my feet. I limped a couple of steps, before my legs gave out, making me lean into her. "Oh, Caleb," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, honey." I barely even heard her. I just concentrated on making my feet move me up the stairs to my room. When we did manage to get there, I just threw myself onto my bed, not caring about my clothes or my injuries. My mom pulled off my shoes and retrieved a blanket from my closet. She softly laid it on top of me, patting the edges as if to trap all the warmth and love in with her hands. She didn't say anything as she left, and I thought she had gone to bed. But a few minutes later I heard the soft scrapping of a chair being pulled from her room, down the hall. I turned at the sound and saw her pulling a worn leather chair into my room; a blanket tossed over her arm. She didn't seem to notice me staring, until she dragged it to my bed and sat quietly in it. "Mom?" my voice croaked hoarsely. "What are you doing?" "Nothing," she said jumping in surprise, "I was just putting the chair in here for later." "The blanket?" I asked, not really caring. "In case the chair gets lonely," she said, while lightly throwing it over her body. I smiled at the gesture. "Mom," I said, feeling another lump rising. "I'm sorry about today. About everythi-" "Shh, shh, shh," she said in a soft voice, "you have nothing to be sorry for, my beautiful Caleb." I nodded and curled up beneath the blankets. I sniffed and turned onto my back. My eyes pooled with tears. I didn't want to cry. I hated to cry sometimes, because it always left you exhausted and red-faced. But my tear ducts weren't on my side either. Silent tears began to stream down my face. My mom was at my side in a flash, gently offering a handful of toilet paper. I smiled and blew my nose, noisily, before finally saying, "I love you, mom. I truly do." She smiled affectionately and pulled me into a tender hug. "Oh, Caleb," she said, her voice catching at the mention of my name, "I love you too. Always and forever." We sat in comfortable silence for a long time before, she patted me on the shoulder and kissed me on the cheek. She walked back to her small chair and settled back down, throwing her legs onto my bed. She snuggled beneath the blankets and I saw her smile in the faint light cast through my window. "Good night, Caleb," she whispered. "Good night, mom," I whispered back, and lay down on my bed. "Good night." I do not own the rights to the song, "If I Die Young." It was purely for fictional purposes and served for this chapter's needs. Please send comments to untitledlovestory23@yahoo.com