J.H. 86 | The Inevitable Nothingness

Fourteen | Parker

WHEN JACK ASKED ME TO COME HOME WITH HIM DURING his visit, I never expected he'd actually go through with asking my parents, and I never really expected them to say yes.

But here I was, on a plane for the first time since I was a child, Jack in the middle seat and my mother in the aisle. I sat by the window, waiting to take off with my heart in my throat and one hand laced with Jack's. His thumb brushed gently her my knuckles, reminding me that he was right by my side and with him, I had nothing to be afraid of.

Mom smiles at me the entire time we take off, mostly because I press myself as hard as I can into the seat, freaking out about flying. I guess when it really came down to it, I was afraid of dying. The idea of death had never bothered me before, and I guess that's because I'd be going alone, and at the end of the day, sure, my parents would miss me, Olive and Xander would miss me, but would be it. There would be no more tests to pay for, no more trials, no more chemotherapy, no more stress. My parents would be free.

But now that I had Jack, the thought of dying, or terrified me.

What would he do? Would he miss me? Of course he'd miss me. The idea makes me sick to my stomach, and I want to throw up. I guess he notices, because he's suddenly asking what's wrong, but all I can manage to tell him is that I'm scared.

It's true, I am scared.

I'm scared to go, I'm scared that it's getting closer. Nothing is working, I'm on a never ending waiting list for a transplant and without fresh lungs to help me breathe, I didn't have much time. My last tests were frightening enough for my mother to let me go on a plane, which she hadn't done since before I'd been diagnosed, which only scared me more.

I'd lit up like a Christmas tree, the cancer had spread, grown. I was going to go downhill, fast. Chemo started again when I got back from this trip, but I didn't want it. I was sick of it. Daily transfusions and tests and procedures and all of it.

I had to tell him, I just didn't know how.

He was so hopeful for me, so positive that I'd fight my way out of this, but I guess that's the risk you take when you fall for somebody who's already a ticking time bomb.

I know you can't choose who you love, but I wish sometimes that Jack didn't choose me. It would make this a lot easier, because I was starting to get really sick, really tired, and I was hanging on with every ounce of energy I had, for him.

We land in Toronto, and I'm stupid nervous, gripping onto his hand as I hide behind him, terrified to meet his parents. I know Mom's spoken to them, I know Jack has told them about me, but truly, what do you say when your son brings home a girl who's dying?

How do you even approach that? What if she thinks I'm selfish for loving him? What if she asks me to leave him? What if she doesn't like me?

Jack can sense my unease, and he pulls me into his arm, peppering my shoulder and with Angel like kisses as Mom gets our bags and goes to the bathroom.

"What's wrong, Parker?" He sings, running his fingers down until length of my hair. I savour every inch of the way it feels, knowing this might be one of the last times I get to feel that.

I don't tell him what's really wrong, because I'm selfish, and instead I tell him I'm nervous to meet his family, which isn't entirely untrue. He reassures me that they'll love me for the millionth time, but I'm still not so sure. Luke didn't really seem to like me, but I understood why. He was looking out for his brother, I'd do the same if this were my sibling.

We Uber to the Hughes residence, and the entire time I stay silent, listening to Mom and Jack talk to each other about anything and everything. I'm glad they get along, my mother seems particularly taken with him, unsurprisingly. I'm sure any mother would be ecstatic if their daughter brought Jack home.