For the Win (Playing for Keeps Book 1) (14 page)

“Ha, ha, very funny.”

“Who’s joking? I’m dead serious.”

“Glad to see you still have your sense of humor. You must not be that sick.” I could practically hear the relief in his voice. I pictured his dimpled smile and some of my earlier worry dissipated a bit.

“Yeah. Like I said, I’m sure I’m fine.”

AFTER

CHAPTER 20

London

It’s funny how drastically life can change in an instant.

One minute I was a seventeen-year-old high school student, trying to get good grades and dating a boy for the first time. Then in the next minute I was being diagnosed with
Myelodysplastic Syndrome. Now instead of worrying about whether or not I’d get into a good college after high school, I was worried I wouldn’t live long enough to go to college.

I knew something was wrong when Dr. Jeffreys called within twenty-four hours of my initial appointment asking me to come back in. Usually I would get a call saying all my blood tests returned normal. I figured if he wanted to discuss the results in person, then it couldn’t be good. But I had no idea he was going to send me to a clinic to have a bone marrow biopsy done. Honestly, I thought maybe he was going to tell me I had an infection. But never did the word ‘cancer’ register in my mind. Not until it fell from the doctor’s lips. Even so, I stayed strong during the biopsy and in the days that followed while I waited for the results. I kept positive, certain they would find nothing. Perhaps I was severely anemic. That’s what I kept telling myself. It’s how I got through the days when the phone didn’t ring, where no answers came.

Now I sort of wished I could go back to not knowing. They say that knowledge is power, but I was questioning that theory now.
Ignorance is bliss.
Now that’s a phrase I could get behind. My mind flew back a few weeks ago to when Cooper was declaring his feelings for me. At the time I thought I had the world at my fingertips, that it was mine for the taking. I remembered the first time he walked me to my locker, how I had felt on top of the universe. Even when I was tired on our bike ride I wasn’t worried. Nothing could damper my excitement at having my first kiss amidst the trees and ducks, overlooking the lake. I had no inkling that my life was on the brink of changing in a horrific way. No way did I think my tiredness was something this serious. At most it was an infection or a virus, I was sure of that. Kids my age didn’t get cancer; they didn’t die. We had our whole lives ahead of us.

Isn’t that what we told ourselves? It’s like how we didn’t like to watch the news, why we turned our heads when we saw something too difficult to stomach. It was easier to believe it could never happen to us. Only now I knew. It could.

Not only that, but it had.

And now I had to face it.

Cooper had been texting all day, but I didn’t text him back. I had no idea what to say. How could I tell the boy I just started dating that I had cancer? I was sure he’d dump me when I told him. Not that I would blame him. He was too young to deal with this kind of shit. Hell, I would walk away if I could. I’d turn my back on this damn disease and never think about it again. I’d run until my legs couldn’t carry me any longer.

If only it were that easy. If only I could outrun this. But I knew it wasn’t that simple.

I could see it on Dad’s face, could read the defeat in his eyes. And it pained me. It killed me to see him so consumed with worry. He put up a good front, but I knew him too well. It had been the two of us for years. We’d been alone since I was five, and I could read him like a book. Right now the terror he felt was written across his face, it was scrawled in his eyes, painted in the lines of his flesh.

Not that I needed the confirmation. I had heard the bleak prognosis with my own two ears. The odds were stacked against me. The doctor assured me we could fight, but it wasn’t a fight I was sure to win. If anything, winning would be kind of a miracle.

And I’d never been one to believe in miracles.

Stretching my legs out on my bed, I stared down at my phone as it buzzed. Now Cooper was calling. My stomach tightened, and I reached over and shut it off. I exhaled with relief when silence blanketed me. It’s not like I could avoid him forever, but I needed a little more time. Time to gather my thoughts. Time to decide what to say and when. I thought about not telling him at all, but I knew that was impossible. First off, I had to start chemo soon, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that I was losing my hair. Also, Dad wanted me to be home schooled the remainder of the year. As much as I hated high school, I felt like dropping out at this point was like admitting defeat.

“London?” Dad knocked on my bedroom door.

My head snapped up. “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

The door opened a crack, Dad’s head poking in. He looked tired, scared. Emotion rose in my throat, lodging in my tonsils and making it difficult to breathe. “Cooper’s here.”

It felt like someone slammed into my chest. Like Cooper threw a pitch and it knocked me right in the heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” I breathed, moisture gathering in my eyes.

Dad stepped into the room, running a hand over his head. “Honey, he’s worried. I think you need to talk to him.”

“I don’t know how to say this, Dad.” My lips quivered. “I’m not even sure I’ve processed it yet.”

“Oh, pumpkin.” Dad sat next to me on my bed, sadness swimming in his eyes. He placed his hand over mine. “I know this is hard, but you’re a fighter. You always have been.” Squeezing my hand, I could feel the desperation flowing through his fingers. “We’re going to get through this.”

I nodded, gathering up his words and wrapping them around me like a thick blanket.

“Cooper’s been good for you,” Dad continued. “You’ve been more alive since you started seeing him. Maybe he’s what you need right now.”

“I doubt he’ll want to stay with me after he knows,” I said.

“Perhaps he’ll surprise you.” He winked.

I sighed, knowing Dad wasn’t going to let me off the hook. “All right. I’ll talk to him.”

“Good girl.” He released my hand and stood. “I’ll send him back.”

When Dad left, I scurried off my bed and raced over to the mirror above my dresser. I yanked a Kleenex out of the floral box sitting on top. Then I wiped away the traces of tears off my face. There was no way to erase the puffiness under my eyes or the redness on my nose, though. Hearing footsteps in the hallway, I swiped on some lip gloss and swiftly ran a brush through my tangled hair. Glancing in the mirror, I cringed. It wasn’t much better, but it was the best I could do.

“Hey.” Cooper stood in the doorway, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. He wore a navy shirt and a ball cap to match. Once again I was struck with how gorgeous his eyes were. For a moment I contemplated not telling him yet. Maybe I could put it off another day or two. Perhaps we could just make out tonight. That sounded so much more appealing.

But I knew I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t string this along any further. It wouldn’t be good for either of us.

“Hey.” I rested my elbow on the dresser in an effort to act nonchalant. But it slipped off, and I almost fell over.

“Whoa.” Cooper stepped into the room and reached out to steady me with his hand. “Be careful there, Grace,” he teased.

I giggled, the sound scratchy in my raw throat. But it felt good. After crying for the past several hours, a laugh felt incredible, freeing in some way. It loosened up some of the tightness in my chest.

His eyes met mine. “You gonna tell me why you’re avoiding my calls?”

Way to get right to the point.

I bit my lip, and he circled my wrist with his fingers, tugging me forward. “Talk to me, London. I can handle whatever you’re gonna say.”

There was nothing but sincerity in his eyes, and I wanted to believe that what he said was true. “I have cancer,” I blurted out, knowing if I didn’t say it quickly I’d never say it at all. Knowing that if he kept touching me and staring at me with those bright blue eyes, I’d lose my nerve.

His head reeled back as if I slapped him, his fingers slipping from my wrist. He looked horrified, his mouth agape, his eyes as wide as baseballs. My stomach twisted. I knew he’d react like this, but it still hurt. He was staring at me as if I had leprosy or something. I was fairly certain he’d never touch me again, and already I missed it. Missed his hands on me, his lips covering mine. Anger burned through me at this horrible disease.
Why me? Why now?

I’d already had a lifetime of disappointments, and when things finally started looking up for me this had to happen?
I swear, when I get to heaven God and me are going to have a real serious talk.

“Cancer?” His words came out in a squeak, so unlike how he normally sounded.

I nodded. “Myelodysplastic Syndrome, actually.” The look on his face told me that meant nothing to him, which I totally understood. I’d never heard of it before either. “It means that my bone marrow isn’t functioning the way it should, and my body isn’t making enough normal blood cells.”

“But it’s treatable?”

I nodded.

“That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” I said softly, not bothering to go into what the treatments were.

To Cooper’s credit, it didn’t take long for him to smooth out his facial features. He took a deep breath, his gaze resting on my face. Reaching out, he touched my chin, his fingers sweeping over my flesh. This was it. The moment when he would end it. Since he was a nice guy, he’d do it in a tender way, no doubt. I swallowed hard, steeling myself for it.

“So what you’re telling me is that it isn’t my fault? I didn’t give you some awful disease by kissing you?” He grinned.

I jerked my head up, shocked at his flippant words. Anger sparked for an instant before I realized what he was doing. He was making this normal, and in doing so he stole a piece of my heart.

Reaching for me, he grabbed both my hands. “So if I didn’t give you mono or herpes, then would you please tell me why you’re not answering my phone calls?”

“I thought…” my words trailed off, scared to say what I was thinking. It’s not like I was out of the woods yet. He might still break it off with me. One joke didn’t mean he was in this for the long haul. And seriously, how selfish would I have to be to want him to stay with me now? He was eighteen. This should have been the best time of his life. And the next few months were going to be tough. Did I really want to drag him into that?

“You thought what?” He drew me forward, his brow furrowing.

“Nothing.” I shook my head, lowering my gaze.

Releasing one of my hands, he tucked his finger under my chin and pushed gently upward until I faced him. “Don’t shut me out, London. Please. I want to help you.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do.” Leaning forward, he kissed me gently on the lips. “Baby, I know this must be so hard for you, and I’m not going to stand here and tell you everything will be okay. People did that when my parents died, and it used to piss me off so bad. I won’t ever offer you platitudes or empty words. But I’ll be here for you. I’ll hold you when you want to cry. I’ll go with you to the doctor. Whatever you need.”

It wasn’t at all what I expected. We had only been dating a couple of weeks. There was no reason he should feel tied to me in any way. Staring into his eyes, I felt a mixture of gratitude and confusion. “Why would you do that for me?” I had to know.

There was that dimpled smile again.
God, it was cute
. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I abandoned you when you needed me most?”

“B-boyfriend?” The air left me, and I swayed a little to the side.

Cooper circled his arms around my waist. “Yeah. That’s what it’s called, you know? When you’re seeing someone and you really like them and you don’t want them seeing anyone else. You’re not seeing anyone else, are you, London?”

I shook my head.

“Do you want to see someone else?”

Again, I shook my head.

He lifted his hand, his fingers skimming my cheek. “Then I think that makes you my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend
. I caught the word in my hands and hid it in my heart. No one had ever wanted to be my boyfriend before. And I never thought when someone did it would be Cooper Montgomery. God, this was crazy. For a moment I forgot about the cancer, the bleak diagnosis, and the treatments. All I thought about was Cooper’s words; about being his girlfriend. About the fact that he wanted to be with me, and only me.

And despite everything, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Cooper

I may have acted strong in front of London, but I didn’t feel strong. Not one bit. When she told me she had cancer it was like someone had sucker punched me in the gut. I wanted to double over, to clutch my stomach, to hurl. But I couldn’t do that. Not when she appeared so unsure, so small and frightened. She thought I’d bolt. I could see it in her eyes.

The truth was that I sort of wanted to. When the word ‘cancer’ slipped out of those cute little heart-shaped lips of hers, I wanted to turn around and run. Run with everything I had, and never look back. I mean, it wasn’t like I’d been dating London that long. I had no obligation to her.

This was precisely the reason I never allowed myself to get close to anyone. I was scared of losing another person I cared about. Scared of having my heart ripped from my chest a second time. How many times could your heart be broken before it didn’t work anymore? Before it was permanently destroyed?

But when I looked into London’s eyes, I knew that walking away wasn’t an option. We may have only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, but I liked her a lot. And she needed me. What kind of an asshole walked away from someone like that? It was the same way I’d felt when she was lying on the side of the road wrapped around her bike. But this was worse. So much worse. And that made my decision even more crucial.

However, it didn’t make it any easier. When I left London’s house, a huge weight descended on my shoulders. I could hardly walk under the massive weight of it. My knees buckled, my shoulders tensed. I drove home with my teeth clenched, my hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. Even my music wasn’t settling my nerves. Not that I was surprised. There was only one remedy for me tonight.

When I got home, my grandparents were on the couch watching TV. The canned laughter annoyed me as I hurried past the family room. After mumbling a hello, I told them I would be out in the backyard practicing. They didn’t act as if it was anything out of the ordinary, and I suppose it wasn’t. Even though it was late, I had been known to practice even later.

Storming outside, I headed toward my pitching net. After slipping my hand into my glove, I palmed a ball. Releasing all my pent-up anger and frustration, I threw it into the net. Again and again I threw balls into the net. The knot in my chest loosened a little bit, but it was still there.

So that’s when I started yelling. A stream of expletives escaped from my mouth with each throw. My throat became raw, and my arm ached, but I kept throwing, and I kept yelling. I prayed that maybe when I was done I could leave this behind me. That I could be the strong guy London needed me to be.

“Cooper!” Grandpa’s voice was like a clap of thunder from behind me.

I flinched. Dropping my arm, I sighed.

“What’s going on, son?” His shadow cast over my shoulder.

Turning around, I took a deep breath. I had planned to lie, to say something about how I needed to practice. But when I looked into his eyes, it was like a well burst inside of me. I’d been spilling my guts to Grandpa for years, and I found myself sharing everything.

He didn’t judge me or lie to me.

He simply placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, Cooper.”

“It’s not fair.” My earlier bravado withered, my body folding in on itself like an accordion.

“No, it’s not,” Grandpa agreed. “It’s awful that London is going through this. That both of you are. If either of you need anything, you know your grandma and I are here. We’ll do whatever it takes to help.”

“Thanks,” I told him.

“She’s lucky to have you.” Grandpa squeezed my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son.”

And, in that moment, I knew I’d get through this. I knew I’d be okay.

It was the first time London was meeting my grandparents, and she was nervous as hell. Frankly, I thought it was cute. I knew she had nothing to worry about. My grandparents already loved her and they hadn’t even met her yet. But I’d talked about her nonstop for the past few weeks, so they knew all about her. Plus, they said that I’d changed since we got together. Said I’d softened or some shit like that. I wasn’t sure why that was a good thing. It sounded suspiciously like what Nate had said about me being whipped.

“Do I look okay?” London shifted in the passenger seat of my car, tugging down on the bottom of her blue top.

Reaching over, I placed my hand on her thigh. “I already told you that you look gorgeous.”

A broad smile swept her face, and it melted my heart. Damn, I’d do pretty much anything to see my girl smile.

Okay, so maybe Nate was right.

“I never told you this, but I sort of almost fell on your grandma at the first game of yours I went to.” Embarrassment colored her words.

“Yeah, I know. I saw.”

“You did?”

I winked. “You were distracting me even back then.”

She chuckled.

“But don’t worry. Grandma doesn’t care. I told her that was you and all she said was that she thought you were pretty,” I told her. “And she was right.”

London nodded, clearly appeased.

We rode in silence for a few minutes, the radio playing lightly in the background.

“Do they know?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and difficult to hear over the music, my tires rumbling, and the soft hum of the air conditioner.

But I did hear it, and I knew exactly what she was asking. It twisted my stomach. The familiar anger that had plagued me since the first moment I found out about her illness rose inside of me. But I swallowed it down. I gripped the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turned white. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t lose it in front of London, and I planned to keep that promise. She spent so much of her damn time trying to make this okay for everyone. She worried about her dad all of the time. Hell, she even worried about Skyler. I wouldn’t have her worrying about me too. “Yeah, baby.” I squeezed her thigh gently. Already she was losing weight. Chemo wasn’t starting for two more days, yet I feared she was already wasting away. It was part of the reason I insisted she come over for dinner. If anyone could fatten her up, it was Grandma. “They know.”

She nodded. “I guess it makes sense that you would tell them.”

“Did you not want me to?” I never thought about getting her permission before telling my grandparents.

“No, it’s fine.” Her face turned, and she stared out the window.

“What’s wrong?”

She clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap. I’d always liked her hands. They were small and fragile, her fingers long and slender. But right now they looked too small. Everything about her seemed too small. How could someone so tiny fight such a huge disease? Fear clamped down like a vice, pressing on my chest.

“I don’t want to be defined by this disease. I want to be London again. Not London, the girl with cancer.” She choked on the words. “I don’t want cancer to change who I am.”

After flicking on the blinker, I turned the corner and my house came into view. “It doesn’t. You’re still the same girl you were before.” Pulling up in front of my house, I parked along the curb. After cutting the engine, I turned to face London. Snatching up her hand, I took it in mine. “You’re London Miller. You love to read books and make up stories. You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, and your smile lights up your face. You’re serious and quiet, yet incredibly loyal to those you love. You bite your lip when you’re nervous, and it’s sexy as hell. You’re one hell of a kisser, and, best of all, you’re my girlfriend.” I winked. “Cancer can’t take any of that away.”

Tears glistened in her eyes. “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think that you’re my savior.”

“I’m not really a religious guy, but I’ve been to church before, and I’m pretty sure that’s Jesus, babe.”

“Not the savior of the world.” She giggled. “I meant that you’re
my
savior. You’ve been saving me from day one when you fought off the mean locker monsters.”

I chuckled. “Never heard anyone describe Calista and her friends as monsters, but I’m diggin’ it.”

“And now you’re still saving me.” She blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “I don’t know how I’d get through this without you. You’re the only person that makes this bearable.”

“Just bearable, huh? Then I’m not doing my job.” I curved my hand around the back of her head and drew her lips to mine. Clamping my lips over hers, I kissed her firmly. Our lips brushed together, connecting and disconnecting with each subtle movement. The friction caused heat and passion, an incredible feeling unlike anything I’ve experienced. We were connected, London and I, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Our lips attaching as if they were made for the other. Her mouth was warm, her lips moist and soft. My tongue licked out, forcing her lips open. Clutching tightly to the back of her head, I massaged my fingers in her hair, and the silky strands tumbled over my hand. With my other hand I clutched her waist, my fingers slipping under her shirt and touching the bare skin of her stomach. As the kiss deepened, a small moan sounded in the back of her throat and her hands swept up my back. “It should be more than bearable,” I said when we separated. “It should be mind-blowing.”

“With you, it’s always mind-blowing,” she responded earnestly.

I rewarded her by capturing her lips with mine one last time before we got out of the car. As we walked up to the house, London glided on some lip gloss and smoothed out her unruly hair with her fingers. Before going inside, I reached over and helped to pat down a few of the tangled strands. It was my fault her hair was so messy, after all. Not that I would change a thing. Kissing London was pretty much my favorite pastime.

In the past, kissing was a precursor for what would happen next. It was more of an appetizer before the big meal. But with London, kissing was the main course. It was savory and satisfying, and exactly what I wanted. Just like her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I tugged her to me. She fit perfectly against my side, and it reminded me of how I’d curl up with my mom as a kid. A pang of sadness struck me, piercing my heart. My mom was the first woman I’d ever loved, and I’d lost her. It was why I’d distanced myself from real relationships. It’s why I guarded my heart. Losing my parents was too hard. The hole their death left in my heart still hadn’t healed. I wasn’t sure if I could survive it again. And yet, I had thrown caution to the wind when I started seeing London. Now she was sick. It didn’t seem fair. And it made me wonder why I was still pursuing this relationship when I knew it could leave me heartbroken.

London’s fingers curled around the bottom of my shirt and she held tightly, clinging to me. Glancing over at her, she wore an anxious smile, and I knew why I wouldn’t walk away from her. She needed me. And more than that, I needed her. I’d connected with her more than I’d ever connected with anyone else. Even if what we had didn’t last forever, I knew I’d never regret the time I spent with her.

Smiling back at London, I turned the knob and we stepped inside the house. It smelled like garlic and spices, faintly of something sweet. My gaze swept the table, candles blazing in the center. Already there was a spread of side dishes and condiments. Grandma had gone all out like I knew she would. I’d seen her poring through her recipe books a few days ago figuring out what she would prepare tonight. My grandparents were pretty up to date on the newest technology. They both had smart phones and Grandma had an ipad. But there were still some things they preferred to remain old fashioned about. Recipe books were one of those things.

“Hey, Cooper.” Grandpa stood from the recliner he’d been seated in. “And you must be London.” He outstretched his arm and shook her hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“You too, Mr. Montgomery.”

“Come in and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in a few.” He swept his arm out, indicating the family room.

Before we could sit down, Grandma emerged from the kitchen carrying a large dish. She set it on the dining table and then looked up at us with a smile. Maneuvering around the table, she rushed over to London and pulled her into a hug. At first London was stiff, her arms pinned at her sides. But she quickly recovered, bringing her arms up and hugging Grandma back.

“We’re so glad you could make it, London.” Grandma drew back, grinning. “Any girl who can whip this boy into shape like you have is someone I have to meet.”

There was that word again.
God, was I really whipped?

When London’s eyes met mine, I sighed.
Oh, hell.
She totally owned me, didn’t she?

During dinner, London mostly picked at her food with her fork. She hadn’t been very hungry lately. I wondered if it was the illness or nerves. I suspected it was both. Grandma and Grandpa stuck to benign topics, like London’s hobbies. No one mentioned her illness or the fact that she wouldn’t be returning to school this year, and for that I was grateful. She’d had her last day of school on Friday, and I know it was difficult for her. Even more difficult because no one knew why she was leaving. I could already hear the rumor mill chugging along. No doubt there would be endless theories making the rounds this week. London relaxed more with each minute. I could see it in the slope of her shoulders, in the way she gripped her fork. She spoke animatedly about the latest novel she was reading, and my heart pinched. I knew reading had always been her favorite form of entertainment, but it was clear that it took on an even more significant meaning now. It was her escape, her way of coping. I should be happy that she had something like that, but instead it upset me. She shouldn’t have to escape. She shouldn’t be going through this at all. Balling the napkin in my lap, I fought against the rage inside.
God, it was becoming a daily battle lately.