Maybe Tomorrow Page 6

  “Next door, with their bestie.” She flashed me a grin. “I swear. Amy is a saint. She lets the boys play at her house two or three times for every one little Brice comes over here.”

  It was nice of Amy, and I knew she did it so Mom would have more uninterrupted time to research my condition in between her real job and the time constraints of being a mom. I wondered what she would do with all her free time if she didn’t have me to worry about.

  I swallowed hard. I hadn’t meant that as “what would Mom do when I died, and it was just her and the boys,” but now the thought weighed heavily on my mind.

  I knew Mom would do anything in her power to buy me more time. Whether it was juice or amino acids or appointments with specialists. But no matter how hard she tried, ultimately my life wasn’t in her hands. It wasn’t in mine either.

  And that was precisely why I needed to cool things off with Lucas before they got started. The realization hurt, but it was for the best. I shouldn’t have let things get as far with him as I had, but I would end it now.

  I slowly ran the last handful of greens through the juicer. I probably shouldn’t go to the game Thursday. If I did, Lucas might read something into it that he shouldn’t. And wasn’t that a bummer. I was looking forward to watching him again.

  Play!

  Dang, it.

  I was looking forward to watching him play.

  Chapter 9

  “Maddie!” My youngest brother, Ethan, flew into the kitchen on his short little legs, followed closely by Aiden. The boys had matching haircuts with the sides cut short and the top a little longer. They looked like mini pop stars. I’m pretty sure I had a bowl cut or something equally hideous at their age. Not that I’m bitter or anything.

  Ethan wrapped his chubby toddler arms around my thighs, and I bent down with a laugh to give him a bear hug.

  “Laura?” Amy peeked around the doorframe with a hand on Brice’s shoulder. “Sorry to barge in. The boys didn’t want to wait on the doorbell.”

  “Not a problem.” Mom laughed as Aiden wrapped himself around her legs since Ethan wasn’t budging from my arms yet. “Thanks again for letting the boys play at your house. You’re a saint.”

  Amy smoothed a hand over her curly blond hair, then waved that comment away. “I don’t have to be a saint when I have three little angels running around.” She beamed down at the boys, setting a hand on Brice’s shoulder. “We have to run. We’re meeting my parents for dinner. Text me later, and we’ll make plans for tomorrow. We’ll let ourselves out.”

  “Bye,” I called after her, rubbing my nose against Ethan’s in an Eskimo Kiss. He laughed, and I held out my arms for my five-year-old brother, Aiden. “Come here, you. You haven’t even told me hi yet.”

  Aiden raced to me, and I gave him a tight squeeze. They might not love me the way they loved Mom, but it was close, and the feeling was mutual. I might groan about having to watch them sometimes, but I loved them both to pieces.

  I think I worried about how they would take my death more than anyone else. They’d be old enough to understand I was gone, but would they fully comprehend that I was never coming back? Or would they always be waiting for me?

  I hated that thought, but I wasn’t sure what to do about it. I wasn’t pushing them away. They wouldn’t understand that I was doing it for their own good, and it would only hurt them.

  “Ah-choo!” I froze and blinked hard as Aiden sneezed right in my face. Spittle covered everything from my eyelids to my chin. Mom spun from the stove and the color drained from her tanned complexion as she stared at me in horror.

  It took her a minute, but she finally sprang into action. “Aiden,” she said, “you and Ethan go wash your hands. Then come back, and you can help me cook.” Mom’s smile stretched tight and her words came out strained.

  “It was probably dust or something.” I stood, watching the boys run off, oblivious to Mom’s and my rising panic.

  I kept my cool for Mom’s sake, but inside, every fiber of my being screamed that this was not how I wanted to go out. Killed off by a sneeze. How totally anti-climactic. I could just see my obituary. Teen girl dies from attack by. . .spittle. Ugh. So not how I wanted to be remembered.

  “Yes, probably dust,” Mom said, but her voice was high-pitched and brittle. I could tell she didn’t believe that any more than I did. We both knew exposure to something as harmless as the common cold could do me in.

  She grabbed a bottle of sanitizer from under the sink, while I splashed water on my face before scrubbing my hands and arms with a few liberal pumps of apple-scented soap. My heart pounded erratically, even though I told myself it was stupid to be scared. I was around hundreds of kids every day. Hundreds of kids with billions of germs, and I hadn’t been really sick even once since Christmas.

  None of them had sneezed right in my face either, though.

  Mom handed me a towel. I took it and dried off before using a hefty dose of the sanitizer. The skin of Mom’s cheeks stretched tight across her cheekbones. I blinked at her as I realized for the first time that she’d recently lost weight. A lot of weight.

  I hated that, too. I hated having to fear a sneeze. I hated this disease.

  Most of all, I hated that I’d already stopped living. I didn’t go to parties or hang out with friends. I didn’t have a boyfriend. I didn’t even have plans for college, because what was the point?

  But sometimes I wondered why the disease didn’t just take me now if it wasn’t even going to give me a fighting chance of getting better.

  “I’m going to go call Dr. Reynolds and see what he suggests,” Mom darted from the kitchen. “I’ll ask about your side-effects while I have him on the phone.”

  I nodded and rubbed my hands together, letting the alcohol-based sanitizer do its job. What if I got sick? Would my body be able to fight whatever I was infected with, or would it take me out? My stomach tossed with that thought.

  I was prepared for death, but I wasn’t ready for it.

  I woke up the day after the sneeze feeling just fine. Or as fine as usual for me. That didn’t mean I’d dodged getting sick. Some germs took a while to incubate. But with each day that passed that I stayed healthy, the odds increased that I wouldn’t come down with anything.

  I didn’t want to be late to first period again, but I wanted to leave Lucas another note, so I did something I never did. I snuck into school early. I’d spent all night, tossing and turning, trying to come up with scenarios where I could have Lucas, even if only as a friend. But none of them had ended well for either of us.

  But that didn’t mean I couldn’t continue to secretly encourage him. I really liked him. If Brianna had her mean little heart set on crushing him, the least I could do was build him back up. Or at least try to.

  I didn’t know if my notes would help or not, but I liked to think they would, and it added some excitement to my day. Sneaking around the halls made me feel like a spy or something. Sure, it was lame compared to the adventures most girls my age were enjoying, but it was something.

  Dr. Reynolds had me cut out one of my meds after Mom talked to him, and I already felt less sore after only skipping two doses. That meant I could stride straight for Lucas’s locker as if I was supposed to be there rather than creeping down the hall with pain dogging my every step.

  I had a Sharpie in my hand and some thoughts for today’s motivation playing in my mind. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, I opened Lucas’s locker then froze in surprise. My note still hung in the center of the door, but Lucas had added to it.

  Thanks, I needed to hear that today.

  Wow! I stared at his small, but neat handwriting, and a smile spread across my face. Maybe my words were helping. Just the thought that they might be made me feel like jumping up and down and cheering.

  I didn’t give myself too long to dwell on it, though. The halls would start filling with nosy kids soon. I did not want to get caught with my head in Lucas’s locker, and then have to expla
in what I was doing there. I got back to business and quickly added a new line on the edge of the paper.

  Today is what you make it. Make it amazing.

  I quietly closed the locker door and snuck another look around before heading down the hall to my locker. The fact that Lucas had taken the time to respond to my note made me like him all the more.

  I opened my locker and found the books I needed. I knew I couldn’t date Lucas. I just wouldn’t do that to anyone. But did I have to run him out of my life completely? Could we be friends? Casual acquaintances?

  I didn’t want to leave a lot of people behind to mourn me when I was gone, but who said we’d even be friends that long? I was determined to survive until graduation, and as well as I felt today, I truly believed I would make it longer than that.

  Could Lucas and I be friends through the end of the school year, then each go our own way after graduation?

  Chapter 10

  I’d grabbed the wrong book while my mind had been on Lucas, and I shoved it back in the locker before pulling out the right one. I didn’t even know if Lucas wanted to be friends with me, but it sure made me feel good just considering the possibility. Maybe I’d run the idea past Ginger.

  I smiled. I could already guess Ginger’s reaction. She’d be all over the idea of Lucas and me being friends. With her match-maker tendencies, I actually had no doubt she’d push me to date him.

  I realized I was breathing fast and took a slow deep breath to calm myself. I wouldn’t deny I wanted to date Lucas, but that shouldn’t, couldn’t, and wouldn’t happen. Being his friend, on the other hand, was that a possibility?

  “Yes!” Ginger yelled before I got the last word out. Everyone in class turned to find out what the excitement was about. She wrinkled her nose in apology and lowered her voice, leaning on my desk to get closer. “Yes,” she repeated just above a whisper. “Lucas is a great guy. What would it hurt to have another friend?”

  I didn’t go into the whole I didn’t want anyone grieving for me when I was gone thing. Ginger knew my feeling about that. Other than that, though, what would it hurt?

  “I don’t even know if he wants to be friends,” I whispered back, sounding and feeling like a kindergartener. “Just because he’s shown me a little bit of attention doesn’t mean he likes me.” But oh, how I hoped he did.

  “He tracked you down after school to invite you to the game. I think it’s clear he likes you.”

  I nodded. I’d felt the same way when Lucas had come looking for me yesterday after school. That had to mean something. I was just so rusty with guys I wanted to be sure I wasn’t misinterpreting his actions. It was nice to hear that Ginger agreed with me.

  “Okay, so how do I go about starting this friendship thing with him? Should I be upfront and tell him I like him, but we can only be friends? Or is that too presumptuous? He never said he wanted anything more than friendship. He actually didn’t even say he wanted that.”

  My hands were sweaty, and I rubbed them on my jeans. It was so much simpler not letting anyone new in my life. Just thinking about spending time with Lucas made me a nervous wreck.

  “Play it by ear,” Ginger said with a sage nod. She tucked her hair behind her ear and the stack of shiny silver bracelets she wore clanked together on her wrist. “Just talk to him like you would me. Ask him if he’s ready for the game. Ask him if he studied for the chem test. Oh!” Her eyes widened. “Even better, ask him if he wants to study with you for the chem test.”

  My heart beat fast at that thought. “Wouldn’t that be like a date, though?” I whispered.

  Ginger shrugged. “So what if it was?”

  “Ginger,” I drawled her name. She grinned at me, shrugging again.

  The bell rang and Mrs. Pope closed the door. Ginger glanced forward before turning back to whisper, “Seriously. One day at a time. Let him take the lead. He might not even talk to you again.”

  My jaw dropped, and Ginger laughed quietly, giving my arm a light shove. “I’m joking. He’s going to talk to you. All you have to do is carry on a conversation with him. You can do that. You’re great with people. When you want to be,” she added seriously, before turning to face the front of the classroom.

  I rolled my eyes at the back of her head but didn’t argue. Ginger was right. I’d never had trouble making friends and talking to people pre-diagnosis. I was just a little rusty now after spending so long pushing everyone away.

  Lunch came quickly. I joined Ginger at our normal four-person table by the window. Pulling my insulated thermos from my backpack, I set it down with a loud thunk.

  Ginger jerked her head toward me. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

  I wrinkled my nose at her and unscrewed the thermos lid, sticking the container toward her face. She pretended to gag as she dodged it. I grinned at her only partially faked disgust.

  “You tell me what’s wrong with me,” I said, only half joking. “You sit there with a creamy bowl of mac-and-cheese, while I get to suck on swamp juice.” I didn’t hate the juices Mom made for me. They’d just gotten real old, oh, say, about seven and a half months ago.

  “Okay, okay,” Ginger conceded. “You get a free pass, but just this once.” She shook a finger at me as she pretended to scold. “You do remember that cafeteria mac-and-cheese doesn’t resemble real macaroni or cheese in any way, shape, or form though, right?”

  She held up a fork-full of the chunky, yellow goo for my inspection, then focused on something over my shoulder. Her eyes went wide and she leaned across the table toward me, grabbing my hand.

  “Don’t look behind you,” she hissed.

  My eyes widened to match hers as I tried to think of what could possibly be so scary. “Don’t look at what?” I asked, fighting the urge to look anyway. “Is it Brianna?” I asked as the thought hit me. I’d been kind of surprised she’d never called me out for going to eat with Lucas.

  “No, it’s not Brianna. It’s Lucas!” Her eyes grew even rounder as her hand clamped mine almost painfully. “He’s coming this way.”

  “What?” I whipped my head around. Lucas wouldn’t come to our table. He sat with the jocks in the middle of the cafeteria. He had no reason to be back in our little corner of the cafeteria. Unless. . .

  “Hey, Maddie,” he said, giving me a friendly smile. “Can I sit here?” He tipped his head toward the empty chair beside me. It was on my tongue to give him my reflexive answer of no, but Ginger was faster than me.

  “Sure, Lucas.” She sat back, releasing my arm as a wide smile covered her face. “The seat next to Maddie is vacant.”

  I darted a glare at her. What was she trying to do to me?

  “This is your chance,” Ginger mouthed while Lucas unfolded his napkin and set his drink on the table. She tipped her head hard toward him. “Talk to him!”

  I waved a hand, trying to shush her. The last thing I needed was for Lucas to see her pushing me to talk to him. My heart pounded, and my head spun as I tried to figure out what Lucas was doing at our table. He, on the other hand, appeared perfectly relaxed, as if it wasn’t strange at all for him to ditch his jock friends to eat with us.

  Lucas took a bite of his hamburger and tipped his head toward my thermos. “Chocolate shake?” he asked with a crooked smile

  And just like that, my body unfroze. He made everything so easy.

  “I wish.” I tilted the container so he could see the swamp-green liquid inside. “I drink a lot more green drinks than I do chocolate.”

  “A health nut, huh?” He gave me an appraising look. “Nice.” He took another bite of his meal, apparently satisfied with his explanation for my choice of lunches. I shared a quick look with Ginger, and she shrugged. I decided to go with it.

  “Yeah, kind of. My mom’s the real health nut. She just drags the rest of us along with her.”

  Max dropped his tray on the table beside Ginger and leaned down for a long kiss before taking a seat.

  “Well, hello to you, too.” Ginger gave him the
sappy grin she reserved for him, and I focused on my drink, giving the lovebirds a semblance of privacy. Not that they cared who watched them. I wasn’t sure they realized anyone else was even in the cafeteria, they were so caught up with each other.

  Lucas nudged me in the arm and raised his brows. “Are they always like this?” he asked, with a grin toward them.

  “Pretty much,” I told him.

  “Shut up, man,” Max said without taking his eyes from Ginger. “Focus on your own girl.”

  Lucas and I both froze. Did Max mean me? Or Brianna? I forced myself to take a sip of juice, almost choking as it tried to go down the wrong way. What was Lucas doing at our table?

  I decided I needed to know. “Don’t you usually sit with your teammates?” I asked as if I had no idea where he usually sat.

  “I do,” he answered easily. “I thought I’d sit with you today since we didn’t have much time to get to know each other the other night. Do you mind?”

  Lucas’s eyes were more green than gray today. They looked bright and hopeful. My stomach fluttered at his honesty, and my eyes dropped to his lips, taking in their perfect shape before I forced myself to look away.

  “Nope,” I said a little too quickly. “I don’t mind at all. So, have you studied for the chem test yet?” The question raced past my lips. Ginger burst out laughing at the line I’d stolen from her, and my cheeks flushed, but I refused to acknowledge her. Tests and studying were safe topics of conversation. I was going with it.

  “Some,” Lucas said. I was surprised at how relaxed he was. I guessed I was the only one at the table who was a ball of nerves. And that was probably because I was the only one reading more into Lucas sitting beside me than there actually was.

  I let out a slow breath and tried to remember that Lucas was a great guy who I could never be more than friends with. Talking with him was no big deal. If I was right about him, getting to know him would be enjoyable. But that was it—not stressful or flustering, and certainly not a door to something more.