Carved in Her Bones

Tomas

My mother and father sit on either side of me as the doctor explains the results.

I stop listening the moment I hear the words promising and cautiously optimistic.

Hope is dangerous. I'm afraid to let it in.

My mother's hand tightens around mine. I can feel the relief in the room like a thick, almost tangible thing. My father an oncologist himself is firing off questions at the doctor, his voice calm, clinical. This is his world. His language. I let them talk.

I haven't texted Rhian.

I should.

I want to.

There are a million things I want to say to her. Thoughts I want to share. Music I'd love to hear her opinion on. But instead, my mind spirals into darker places. Would I miss her in death? Would she remember me if I were gone?

Is there life after death?

And if there is would she exist in it?

I exhale slowly. Part of the reason I haven't reached out is fear. Fear of growing attached. Fear of mourning her before I even have the right to. I have a strong, unshakable feeling that losing her would be unbearable.

I pull out my phone as my dad and the doctor go back and forth about the cancer inside me. I'm only half-listening now. My fingers move on autopilot as I type her number from memory.

I hesitate. Then, finally, I type:

" I fear and feel that you are the kind of person who lingers etched into memory, not by effort, but simply by being. You don't just pass through lives; you leave imprints, shadows that never quite fade

I don't sign my name.

I don't have to.

She sees it immediately.

And somehow, I know—she knows it's me.

I put my phone on vibrate and shove it back into the pocket of my black hoodie. I pretend to pay

We leave the doctor's office twenty minutes later, and still no response from Rhian.

Joey is nowhere to be seen. He rarely spends time in our room, which has given Pia and me some nice privacy. But today, I need him. I need information on his sister.

As if the universe has been reading my mind, Joey strolls in, his arm draped over Rhian's shoulders. She looks at him the way protégés look at their mentors. She's smiling. Her hair is straight probably still from the concert. She's wearing jeans that could fit three grown men and a hoodie I suspect belongs to Joey. Her feet are in Converse.

She smiles at me and waves. Joey rolls his eyes.

Even dressed like she just picked up the last of her clothes from a charity shop, she looks stunning.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Joey mutters, eyeing me suspiciously, like the good big brother he is.

"Joey," she scolds, shoving him lightly. He nearly stumbles.

She walks over to my desk, pulls out a chair, and sits down. I close my laptop, giving her my full attention.

"Ditch me, why don't you?" Joey huffs, rolling his eyes again as he puts on his headphones, tuning us out.

"Hey," she says, a little awkwardly. "I'm not great at texting, but I was already here, and what you said well, it was beautiful. Almost haunting, actually. I kinda hope I make that kind of impression too."She smells good—like spring by the ocean, like something sunny and alive.

"You smell alive."

She blinks. "Is that a good thing?"

"Hell yeah, it is."

"Do you go to school?" I ask. "I saw you in a uniform that first time."

"I just finished my A-levels, so now I'm free to annoy that douche over there." She nods toward Joey.

"That makes you what? Eighteen?"

She looks away, suddenly shy. "No. Seventeen. I turn eighteen in three months."

"So Joey's older?"

"Yeah, he's almost 22, but don't let that number fool you. Maturity-wise? I'm definitely the older one. He's my big little brother."

"You have any siblings?"

I shake my head . "No. It's just me."

"Lucky," she murmurs. Then, after a pause, she asks, "The supermodel I saw—girlfriend?"

"Pia? Yeah, girlfriend," I answer honestly.

She smiles tightly. "She's beautiful. Which makes sense because you're sort of beautiful."

Her big green eyes widen as she realizes what she just said.

"Rhian," I say, amused, "thank you. My mother would agree with you."

That earns me a glare.

Rhian is shy, but there's a quiet intensity and gracefulness to her. Shes the only person besides my mom who really listens, stops to think then answer. She listens to the instrumentals of songs before the versions with lyrics, as if she wants to understand the music's true language before words shape its meaning. She reads obsessively, leaving books open on every surface, pages dog-eared and spines softened from use. Sunrises make her feel hopeful a quiet promise that the world is beginning again. And rain? She loves the rain. The way it drums against the roof at night, like a secret ballad turning the world into a song just for her.I don't think there's anything she could say that wouldn't interest me.

Before I know it, the nurse comes in with my afternoon meds.

I panic.

I was enjoying just being a boy talking to a beautiful girl. For a moment, I forgot.

But now, I feel exposed—raw—as the nurse slides the needle into my arm. Rhian must sense it. Without a word, she excuses herself.

The fading footsteps remind me of the truth.

We are two people from two different worlds.

She returns half an hour later. I force myself to stay awake, willing her to come back.

She tosses a Dr. Pepper at Joey and hands me an orange juice.

"I didn't know what to get you," she says. "And about earlier—I felt like I was invading something intimate. So I left."

I nod, opening the orange juice. "Well, don't I also get a Dr. Pepper?"

She smirks. "Well, I don't mind making Joey sicker. But I'm trying to be a respectful friend, so—orange juice."

"So we're friends?"

She hesitates, murmuring, "Yes." As if she isn't quite sure.

"Friends, then," I say. "And since we're friends now, I should tell you—I usually need help showering at night. And sometimes in the morning. My friends usually do it, but since you and I are now friends, I thought you might like the honor."

She bursts out laughing—a beautiful, ringing melody—and then snorts. Like a little pig.

It makes me laugh too.

"Thank you," she says, voice still breathless from laughter. "I am so looking forward to that. Do I bring anything? Soap? Towels?"

I grin. "Just yourself, Rhian. Just yourself."