Thirty-six - "For life"

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"I need to borrow something

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"I need to borrow something."

I stand at the entrance of Parker's bedroom. He barely acknowledges my presence as I try speaking with him, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed. "So you're just going to give me the silent treatment?"

His green eyes bore into mine with pure anger as he sits up on his bed. "You scared the shit out of us."

"I'm not five anymore, Parks," I bellow. "You can't keep me under your guard forever."

"We never fucking asked for that, Blake," he snaps, running a hand through his blonde hair as he swings his legs off the bed and stalks towards me. "But you need to realise how scary that was. You didn't even tell us that you were leaving."

"I thought you'd stop me," I admit.

"I would have worried the entire time, yes. But I do want you to be happy too. So do our parents," he softens. "You would have solved so much of the panic that you caused just by simply telling us exactly where you were going with...him."

I try my hardest not to wince at the bare mention of Holden. I'd ignored several of his calls since arriving home yesterday night. Declan had send me a stream of confused and frustrated messages, asking me what possibly could have happened in such a short amount of time. Even Brooks had messaged to make sure I was okay.

When I'd arrived home, my parents were still out late working. Parker had been so mad, but when he saw my upset state he'd let me do the taking first. I'd filled him in on everything.

"Anyway," Parker sighs, "what is it that you could possibly need to borrow off me?"

"You're electric shaver."

"My electric— oh."

"Yeah," I nod, solemnly. "It's that time."

Absentmindedly, I wrap a strand of my washed out pink hair around my finger, the ends returning to my natural blonde. "I've already ordered my wigs," I laugh.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"I'm sure," I smile, walking further into Parker's room.

He leads me into his ensuite, flicking on the lights. I find my reflection in the mirror and grimace. The effects of chemo are slowly taking their toll on me now. My skin is sunken around my eyes and my cheek bones are more prominent.

"It looks like I've made my own hair out of straw," I remark, turning away from the mirror. "At least it'll be gone."

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