2012

Part 5: Raven

A/N: This story is really nice and cute and funny and sad. Hopefully, you’re all ready to cry and laugh over it.

Part 5: Raven

Kyle spread the blanket under a willow tree next to a pond. He knelt down and started unloading the picnic basket—neatly wrapped sandwiches, canned drinks, and apples.

He patted the seat next to him and I sat down.

I frowned. “You still haven’t told me why we’re having a picnic.”

Kyle doesn’t like picnics. People usually look at him. Well, why wouldn’t they? He’s yummy! With his shaggy brown hair and piercing blue eyes, he looks like a Burberry model.

Kyle winced. “Are we not allowed to have a picnic?”

“Kyle!”

“Fine,” he said. “I have something to tell you. I’m not sure you’ll like it though.”

I wondered what he was going to say though. It bugged me that being with him is complicated. Of course, I could just easily pick a nice gentleman instead of a bad boy who transferred to school fromDetroit.

“Just tell me. I won’t freak.”

“Okay.” Kyle smirked then frowned. “I have cancer.”

My eyes widened and I looked at his face to check if he’s serious. He looks dead serious. He also looks so forlorn. He’s not joking. Shit. This is real.

“I have Leukemia,” he continues. “Stage Two.”

“Leukemia?” she said.

He nodded. “Oh boy. Now I have to go to do Chemo and I’ll be bald.”

I knew he’s joking but I didn’t laugh. Why would he joke about something so serious? Suddenly, she found it hard to breathe. She looked away from him. She looked at her dirty black converse, some kids playing Frisbee, ducks on the pond—anywhere but him. She can’t even look at him now.

“Well?” he said.

I turned my head to look at him. “I didn’t freak,” I say and he laughs. It’s good to see him laugh even though he’s dying. I don’t like the thought of him dying. He looks so young. He’s still young! He’s only seventeen!

“When do you start chemo?” I found myself asking. He shakes his head.

“I’m not doing chemo. No way.”

“What do you mean you’re not doing chemo?” I hiss. I glare at him and he just shakes his head.

“Would you want me if I’m bald?”

“I want you healthy and alive!”

He smiles tightly at me but I know he’s having a hard time. I mean, finding out you have cancer can have that effect on you. I blink back my tears. I can’t even deal with this. How do you deal with this?

“Everything will be alright,” he says softly. I scowl at him. This is all his fault. Now he has cancer. What’s worst, it’s Prostate!

“I told you to quit it, didn’t I?” I say harshly. He blinks at me. Confused. I roll my eyes. “I told you to quit smoking, drinking so much (He’s an alcoholic) and sleeping around!”

“I did stop sleeping around.”

“Yeah, because I was already your girlfriend by then. I was talking about four months ago when I was still your friend,” I choke out and the dam brakes. My tears come flowing down my cheek and doesn’t stop.