Present Perfect (45 page)

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Authors: Alison G. Bailey

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Young Adult, #Contemporary

BOOK: Present Perfect
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I had become very attached to Dalton, in a relatively short period of time. I could tell my parents and Emily were concerned that I was becoming too attached by the looks on their faces whenever they saw us together or I talked about him. I didn’t know what my feelings were toward him. I just knew I needed him in my life. I always thought there was one soul mate out there for each person. Dalton made me think twice about that. Maybe some people are lucky enough to have two soul mates in their lifetime.

 

 

The
on
weeks of chemo were like living in that movie Groundhog’s Day. I had four cycles so far and they were almost identical, same nausea, vomiting, exhaustion, etc. The only good thing about
on
weeks was that Dalton and I would spend time together. We had started spending more time with each other during our
off
weeks, but it was during our chemo that I felt we bonded the most. We were both stuck in that room for at least four hours, so there wasn’t much else to do, but talk.

I felt like I had known Dalton all my life and it had just been two months. There was a comfort I felt with him that I didn’t with other people right now including my family and even Noah to a certain degree. Ever since this whole cancer life had started, I had a constant craving to feel normal and Dalton satisfied that for me. Everyone else talked to me about the cancer or the amputation. Dalton helped me feel normal even while we were both being pumped full of chemicals.

“Favorite movie?” he asked.

“I have four actually.”

“You can’t have four,” he protested.

“Why not?”


Favorite, a person or thing regarded with favor or preference
. You can have a favorite drama and a favorite comedy, but you can’t have multiple favorites in the same category.” I looked at him with my eyebrows furrowed together. Him and his crazy rules.

“I have four…” I held up four fingers and wiggled them in front of his face. “…favorite comedies.” He just huffed and shook his head at me.

“The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller, The Jerk, and Forest Gump.”

“Aw, I see you are a fan of the classics.”

“Oh, and anything with George Clooney in it.” He shook his head at me again. “What is your favorite?”

“Die Hard.”

“Which one?” I asked.

“All of them.”

“You just berated me for having four favorites. There are five Die Hard movies.”

“They’re installments of the same movie.”

“Your logic is convoluted.”

“A little too intellectual for you to comprehend?”

“Bite me.”

“Hot damn! I’ve been waiting two months for you to let me do that.” I laughed out loud startling Estelle, one of the elderly ladies who had her chemo on the same day as Dalton and I.

“Favorite line from a movie?” I asked.

“Are you serious?
Yippee ki-yay, motherfucker
.” I made no attempt at hiding my eye roll.

Dalton closed his eyes and rested his head back against the chair. We sat in a relaxed silence. Looking around the room I noticed only Dalton, Estelle, and I were the only ones left. “Hey, Dalton?”

“Mmmhmm?”

“Ashley isn’t here today and she wasn’t here the last chemo day.” Ashley was a little girl I had seen the first day of chemo. She was quiet and kept to herself, but very sweet. “I wonder why.”

“Dead.” His words shocked me.

“What?” He turned his head toward me and opened his eyes.

“I said she’s dead.”

“Dalton, that’s a terrible thing to say. You don’t know.”

“Yes I do. I went to her funeral last week.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone.”

“I didn’t think your first cancer funeral should be that of a 10-year-old’s. They’re pretty rough.”

I stared straight ahead, not knowing what to say. I felt a warm hand cover mine and lightly squeeze, causing me to look over at him. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I thought maybe she had gotten better and didn’t need to come here anymore. Stupid, right?”

“Not stupid, just naive.”

“Are you afraid of dying?” I asked.

He turned his head and looked toward the ceiling, contemplating his answer. “Yes, I’m afraid of dying, but I’m not afraid of being dead.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Dying is a process. Dead means you’ve already arrived at your destination.” He turned to me, his dark blue eyes pierced mine as if they could see all the way into my soul. “What about you? Are you afraid of dying?”

“Lately, I feel like I’m afraid of everything, dying, living, Tuesdays.”

I noticed that we were still holding hands. It felt really nice and really right. I was becoming confused about the feelings I was developing for this boy. They weren’t as strong as my feelings for Noah, but given time I was afraid they could be. I needed to change the subject.

Pulling my hand away from his and using it to tuck some of my hair behind my ear, I said, “My friend, Lisa is coming for a visit next weekend. It’s the beginning of her spring break and she’s going to spend a couple of days here before heading to Florida.”

“This is the cute little redhead you showed me a picture of?”

“Yep.”

“You think she’d let me bang her?”

“You’re a pig.”

“What?! I’m just asking. A cute little redhead, ready to blow off some steam during spring break…she might as well start by blowing me.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

I had texted a picture of Dalton to Lisa when I first met him and she thought he was hot.

“She probably would. She thinks you’re hot.”

He slid across the back of the chair in my direction. A huge grin plastered across his face. “And how does she know what I look like?”

“I may have texted her a picture of you a few weeks ago.”

“Sweet. Do you have a pen and some paper?”

“I think so.” I searched through my bag and came up with a pen and scrap of paper. “Here.”

He straightened up in his chair and flipped his hand toward me. “Take this down,” he said.

“When did I become your secretary?”

“Gatorade, vitamins, protein drink, double A batteries, pancake syrup, Vaseline, a paint brush-soft bristles, rope, duct tape, and a pack of pens. I’m out of pens. Oh, and…” He slid back across the back of the chair in my direction, smiling, and in a low voice said, “Trojan Magnum, box of 36, the pleasure pack sampler.” He leaned away, grinning at me. I just stared at him, speechless and tossed the pen and paper in his lap.

 

When I was a kid, it felt like it took forever for things like Christmas and my birthday to come around. Soon was never soon enough. In ten seconds, the length of time it takes for a doctor to tell you your diagnosis, you go from thinking the world is full of an infinite amount of time to realizing nothing in this world is infinite.

Everything has a beginning, middle, and end. Before cancer, I didn’t give much thought to the end. It’s a cruel joke that when you realize there is an end, time starts to move faster, speeding towards it. Life moves pretty fast. Soon can take it’s time getting here now.

This entry was inspired by the great philosopher Ferris Bueller…Bueller…Bueller…

 

 

I was walking back to our table from the bathroom. As I slipped into the booth beside Dalton I could not believe the conversation my two friends were having.

“So you want to fuck me?”

“Yes, if you’re agreeable.”

“I’m only staying for a couple of days before heading to Florida. I won’t be here much longer.”

“Neither will I.” My head whipped back and forth between them so fast that I almost got whiplash.

Lisa, Dalton, and I were downtown near the college having lunch at the Hungry Lion, a hole in the wall, but the best burgers around. Lisa had gotten into town early that morning and we met Dalton for lunch. They hit it off immediately, which I knew they would, but had no idea this would be the topic of their first conversation.

“I can’t believe the two of you are sitting here discussing this at lunch, in front of me.”

“Time is of the essence, grasshopper,” Dalton said, holding up a French fry before tossing in his mouth.

“Dalton speaks the truth.” Lisa leaned into the table slightly toward Dalton as if she were about to tell him a secret. “Just so you know upfront…that’s the only point of entry I’ll allow you. I don’t do any back door partying.”

Diet Pepsi came flying out of my mouth and I inadvertently snorted it up my nose. Lisa and Dalton burst into a fit of laughter.

Once he stopped laughing and recovered the ability to breathe, Dalton said, “Young grasshopper, the only thing getting fucked this weekend is your mind.”

“We were just messing with you,” Lisa said. She and Dalton shook hands. “Bravo to you, sir, for your exquisite portrayal of a horny pig bastard.”

“Why, thank you. And I must say you play quite a convincing skank.”

“You two are hi-lar-i-ous.” I put extra sarcasm in my voice.

It was nice having Lisa and Dalton meet. It was also weird having two of my worlds collide. It’s like they each knew a completely different aspect of me, but not all of me.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Lisa asked.

“I thought we would come back downtown and walk around. There’s always something going on, especially now that the tourists are starting to come around. Dalton, is that good for you?” I asked.

“Do with me what you will. I’m all yours.”

I spotted him as soon as he walked in the door. I hadn’t told Noah about Dalton and vice versa. The subject just never came up. Besides, I wasn’t with either one of them like
that,
but it didn’t stop me from feeling as if I had just gotten caught doing something I shouldn’t, especially since I was sitting next to Dalton.

“Tweet?”

“Noah, hey.” His eyes immediately zeroed in on Dalton. “Noah, you remember Lisa?”

“Yeah, hey. How are you?”

“Hello,
The
Noah. I’m good,” she answered. He smirked at her name for him.

“And this is Dalton,” I said.

“Hi. You and Lisa are together?” Noah asked.

“No, actually…”

Oh shit!
Dalton loves to mess with people no
matter the consequences.

Draping his arm around my shoulders, he pulled me into his chest. “…my young grasshopper and I hook up every Monday.” He followed this bit of info with a smirk aimed right at Noah. Noah looked like he was about to lift Dalton right out of his chair. “Yep, we’ve been at it for about two months, right.” He looked over at me. “Our time together wears me completely out.”

Noah started working his jaw and clenching and unclenching his fists.

“He’s talking about chemo. We have chemo together on Mondays. Dalton, tell him it’s chemo,” I begged.

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Lisa was trying to hold in her laughter while I panicked. Noah looked like he was ready to beat Dalton to a pulp. “I’m just messing with you, dude. We have chemo together. That’s all. Unless you consider the blow job in the supply closet a relationship.”

“Tweet, can I talk to you for a minute. Outside.” Just then Noah’s name was called. It was Brooke.

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