Nineteen-year-old, Bea Somerton, knows exactly how she wants to live. Become a doctor, remain in remission from her childhood Leukaemia and have a happy, normal, life.
The last thing she expects is to meet rising star and troubled musician, Holden P...
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"I'm sorry."
The sun sits just behind the trees, rising slowly to reach it's morning peak. I blink slowly at Charlie, dressed in her athleisure as she holds out two steamy cups of coffee with a grimace.
"It's six in the morning," I deadpan, rubbing my eyes as Charlie barges through the doorway.
"I know," she sighs. "But I couldn't stand it for another second. I hate fighting."
"So let's not," I whisper, pulling my lips in a solemn line. "I hate it too. Especially now."
"Especially now," she agrees, her dark high ponytail swinging as she shakes her head vigorously.
"It starts tomorrow," I remind her, walking towards my room. "The chemo."
I flip back onto my bed, staring at the darkened ceiling as Char finds her place next to mine. "I know," she whispers. "Want me there?"
"If you can," I utter, quickly. "I hate being there alone."
"I hate that you would ever think you'd need to do this alone," she grips my hand in mine, squeezing twice. "There are so many people behind you. I know for a fact Parker will be stalking your every move."
"Don't remind me," I scoff, unable to hide my smile. "He's already told me that his unemployment has allowed him to have extra free time."
"He still hasn't found a job?"
"It's because of me," I admit. "He won't find one until I'm— better."
The awkward pause hangs limp in the air like a harsh reminder of reality.
Better... or dead.
A light tap on my bedroom door brings me from my thoughts. Standing in nothing but his running shorts and sneakers, Parker fills the doorway, his silhouette only visible from the sun peaking through my curtains.
"Speak of the devil," Charlie whispers, kicking my leg lightly.
"Surprised you're awake this early," he muses.
"Blame Charlie," I retort.
"Mmhm," she mumbles, distracted.
I elbow her in the ribs, quite aware of what is currently distracting her. She's always been a sucker for a six pack, which happens to include my oblivious brother.
"What time is your first session tomorrow?" He asks, lightly.
"I'm pretty sure you've already printed off your own planner for everyday that I'm going in," I deadpan. "Don't pretend like you don't know."
