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 wake to the morning sun casting its light through the expansive hospital window. I blink slowly, curled up in a ball, my arms loosely tucked around my knees beneath the cotton covers. I'm staring out the window at the bleak view before me, barely coherent.
Sophia's hair tie from last night holds my pink strands back in a sloppy ponytail; wisps falling out to obstruct my vision of the room. I'm alone, though. The silence informs me as much.
Memories from last night swarm through my brain and I clench my eyes shut, hearing Holden's voice break in the realisation that something isn't right with me.
The irony that my dream is to become a doctor; wanting to help people. In reality, I'm the one who needs help the most.
The doors open slowly, but I don't turn around to see who is there. Mum and dad had rushed over last night, and I'd barely been able to send them home to sleep when I'd been told to stay overnight for observation. I know they'll be back soon, though.
"Bea," Parker calls softly, testing to see if I'm awake. For a moment, I wonder if it would be easier to pretend to be asleep, but my brother steps in front of my sight before I get the chance.
He folds his long limbs into the chair beside my bed, his blonde hair flopping forward as he leans towards me, hands clasped together on his knees. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," I croak, noting my dry throat.
"Have the doctors come by yet?" he asks, tentatively.
I observe my brother, the way his eyes grow faraway as he stares at me. He scratches his cheek, waiting for my answer.
"I only just woke up," I offer. "You didn't sleep at all, did you?"
"How could I?" he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "When you're lying here—when you're lying here again."
He moves forward, head in his hands as he cries softly. I lean over, placing my hand on his shoulder. "Parks," I whisper, "I'm okay."
He shakes his head, choking back laughter as he looks back up at me. "I don't understand you sometimes. How you remain so positive."
"Me either," I joke, my lips pulling into a small smile.
He moves the chair closer to my bed, clasping my icy hands between both of his, offering me warmth. "Charlie rang me earlier," he says. "Jett will be by with her later."
I nod, closing my eyes. "Don't let mum or dad take any time off work because of this," I plead. "It's just my body responding to chemo. They can't do anything about it."
"I'll try," he nods. "And... one more thing. Holden's been—"
I drop Parker's hand, turning onto my back; stiff. "Don't let him see me here," I interrupt, staring at the cracked ceiling.
