The Unexplainable You.

Part Twenty-Four. Portland.

"You're gonna be late." Andy screams up the stairs at me as I slide my banana-colored Crocs on. I have an followup appointment today to discuss my test results. The doctor was behind on his schedule, so we didn't have time to go over much.

I rush down the stairs, but somehow my feet fall out from under me and I go tumbling down the rest of the stairs.

"Oh my gosh." Andy exclaims, catching me before I smack my head on the wood floor. "Are you okay."

I nod, blinking hard as I try to clear the black spots from my vision. 

"Yeah," I mumble, my arms shaking as I try to sit up. "yeah, I'll be fine."

"Do you need me to drive you?" He asks as he tries to help me up, "You're not looking too hot."

I try to laugh, but the world is still spinning way too fast around me, and my legs are trembling like trees in the wind.

"I'll be fine." The words coming out a lot sharper then I intended, and I can instantly see the hurt burn in his eyes "Just... leave me alone."

I immediately regret the words, and I swear, I want to take them back, but like most other things my pride just gets in the way.

"I'm gonna be late." I mumble. "I'll see you later."

***

"So Portland," Doctor Taylor says, tapping his clipboard on the table. "We got your scans back, and it looks like there is some sort of growth on your spinal chords."

I bite my lip, nodding slowly with my eyes trained on my hands. "So what does that mean for me?"

He writes something on his clipboard before answering. "We'll contact your parents about an emergency surgery, but we most likely will be able to get you in by the end of the week. And then once we get the growth out, we will most likely be able to test to see if it was cancerous, and if so we can also test the tissue around it to make sure that the cancer hasn't spread."

"So do you think that I have cancer?" I blurt out without meaning to. I guess that cancer has kind have always been a thing in my house that no one ever really talked about. I mean, since Mal I guess everyone has been avoiding talking about anything related to the subject.

"There is no way to be sure, but it would explain all of your recent seizures and headaches."

"No," I laugh, shaking my head. "There's no way I have cancer, I can't. See, my brother had cancer when I was younger, and two children from the same parents can both have cancer, right? I mean, that's totally unfair to-"

"Portland," He interupts "there's a large chance too that it's not even a tumor, it might just be part of the bone growing wrong, and that's an easy fix. Don't overthink it, okay?"

I nod, biting my lip. "Yeah, of course. Sorry."

He smiles, scratching down some unreadable notes. "Don't worry about it."

He opens his mouth to say something, but someone knocks at the door before he can even start the sentence.

"Excuse me Dr. Taylor." The nurse is tall with pale blonde hair and smells faintly of ginger beer. "Emma Luboc has run off again. Have you seen her?"

He looks around playfully, his voice feighing confusion. "No Tiffany, I wonder where she is?" 

Probably just as expected, a small laugh comes from under the desk we're sitting at. Dr. Taylor pokes his head under the desk, getting a full belly chuckle.

"Come on Emma," The nurse tells the little girl as she climbs out from under the desk. She's dressed in a light pink t-shirt with a unicorn on it and light grey sweatpants with a headband tilted off her head, which looks a bit sweaty from chemo treatments.

"Hey!" She says excitedly, her brown eyes smiling at me. "I'm Emma, I'm five and I really like unicorns! What's your name? You're really pretty, do you like Barbies! I really love Barbies, we could play Barbies sometimes. Did I mention I really like princesses, I love princesses!"

"Now Emma," The nurse says, offering her hand out to the small girl. "You need to get back to your room, you have treatment in a little bit."

She nods quickly, grasping for the womans hand. 

"Bye pretty lady!" She yells after me as the door shuts.

Dr. Taylor smiles sadly at the door, biting his lip. "Well, now you've met the resident class clown. Emma Luboc, she's funny."

I furrow my eyebrows, staring at my hands. "What's wrong with her?"

He flips through his files, not looking at me as he answers. "She has stage four brain cancer. She's adopted and her mom works full time at the shelter downtown. No one ever really comes to see her anymore."

I try to imagine being a girl like that, alone in one of the scariest times of my life, with no one but staff to keep me company.

"Is anyone who's not family allowed to visit her?"

He smiles, dropping his pen into the cup on the desktop. "If you're asking if you would be allowed to visit her, I would say yes, yes you are."