100 Things To Do Before I Die

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When I got diagnosed with a heart disease, I knew I didn't have a lot of time. Even though I was 10, I wasn't stupid. I'd seen those cancer and disease movies my mom always watched. Trust me, I'd learned a lot from My Sister's Keeper. I hadn't really fancied Kate's ending.
  Two years after I was diagnosed, it went away; I guess treatment worked well. It came back a year and a half later. That's when I decided to make the 99 Bucket List. Why 99? I had about a billion ideas for things to do before I die, but by the time I got to 100, I had no idea what to do. Now I'm 16, and I still haven't even gotten to number one.
These people won't even let me go to DisneyLand for crying out loud. I mean, I am dying, so why not just let me go for one day? At least let me screw the Peter Pan or Prince Eric guy.
"I don't know why you're complaining. At least your alive," my best friend Gianna finally told me after I read her my list for the 100th time.
"You wouldn't understand. At least you get to go to school and the mall and the movies and check out boys and eat at fancy restaurants. You're not the one stuck in a hospital all day. And the only studs I get to look at are the pictures of Dylan O'brien on my phone. Which, I may add, has the sucky hospital wifi."
"Okay, you win," Gianna groans with an eye roll. "But at least you have visitors."
  "True. But I at least want to do number one!"
   "Let me see," she says, taking the list from me, "number one: Get kicked out of Walmart. Cora, this isn't something normal sick people want to do."
  I roll my eyes. "Just shut up and admit it would be fun. Besides, the list gets better as the numbers get bigger."
  Just as Gianna's about to argue, my doctor, Dr. Montez comes in, followed by an extremely attractive boy around my age. He's tall, has brown hair and these insanely gorgeous brown eyes. "Morning, Cora. How are you feeling?" Dr. Montez asks.
  I shrug. "The same crappy feeling I have everyday."
  Dr. Montez chuckles. "I thought you would say that. Oh, and this is my son, Will. I brought him today to see what I do. He doesn't think I have a hard job."
  "Hi," I say so quietly that I'm not sure he heard me.
   "Will, this is Cora," the doctor says.
  "Hey there," he says with a small wave.
Thankfully for me, Dr. Montez interrupts the tension and awkwardness and says,"I'll be right back with your medication. Will, you can stay if you want, I'll be right back."
Will looks up from his phone. "Okay. But I'll probably go downstairs. Sutter's mom is dropping him off."
Dr. Montez scoffs. "And when did I say you could bring Sutter over?"
"Well, what else am I going to do all day? Sit around and sing kumbaya with all of your little patients?"
Gianna gets up all of a sudden to "use the bathroom" and I shift in my bed, hopefully indicating to Dr. Montez that this is getting a little awkward.
"Will."
Will rolls his eyes and steps out of the room, followed by his father. Gianna comes out of the bathroom, arms crossed. She's about to say something before I shush her. Listen, I motion to her. Outside the door, you can hear Dr. Montez and Will's voices arguing back and forth, muffled of course.
   "Dad, he's downstairs, it's not like I can tell him to leave!"
   "Today, you were supposed to see what I do. That way next time you complain about the way I father you at home, you'll understand that I have to work with dying patients, even some your age, everyday. Kids with families that want them around longer. Kids who have gotten in accidents and aren't going to wake up from their comas. Kids who decide they want to go to high school parties and get drunk and either crash or get shot late at night."
   "Dad, stop. That's not going to happen. Besides, it's only Sutter and I'm in a hospital at 10:00 am. It's not a big deal!" Will yells.
    "Whatever. Sutter can stay. I got to get this girl's medication. Don't get in trouble."
    And with that, the little argument is over. Gianna stares at me with that expression people get when they think, "Ooh! Drama! Let me get my popcorn!"
    "Well that was lovely!" I sigh.
    Gianna smiles. "Can we just talk about the fact that his son is a hot tamale!"
    "He was pretty cute," I shrug. "Probably has a girlfriend, though."
    "A girl can dream."
"Um, you have Corbin," I say, rolling my eyes. Gianna and Corbin had been dating for a year and a half now, and yes, I was the third wheel. They even swallowed each other in my hospital room for me to watch. I was actually quite surprised they didn't ask to use my hospital bed and leave the room for their "hoo hah" time.
"Yes, Cora, I do have Corbin. It doesn't mean you can't try."
"Uh huh. Well, like I said, a dude that hot, has definitely got himself a girlfriend," I say.
"But you still don't know that."
"Yeah, but why on earth would he even look at me."
"Maybe you make him nervous."
Then I yell at her for some reason. To tell you the truth, I don't know why I yelled. "For God's sakes, Gianna! If he's looking at anyone, he obviously looking at you! Now you don't need to give me the little tiny hope that maybe he did look at me and then I find out he was actually looking at you!"
Gianna's cheeks turn a bright ass red. Really. So red they would've fit right in with the tomato patch downstairs. And those are some red tomatoes. "Sorry, G."
She stares into my eyes. "You're forgiven. I'm sorry, Cora. I just forget.."
"Yeah. Whatever."
She's right though. I don't blame her for forgetting. Gianna has always had a busy schedule. And since she has a lot of other friends, her schedule is even busier. Thankfully she still has Saturdays reserved for visiting me. And Wednesday's if she's free. Of course she forgets with all of her soccer practices, parties, her job as a Starbuck's barista (which, lucky for me, I always got a free drink), and all the time she spends bowling, at the movies, and at the mall with Corbin and her other friends.
A few minutes later, Dr. Montez and my nurse, Nurse Jackie come in, medication and everything. "Here is your medication, sweetie. And we're going to have to run a few tests this morning, if that's okay?" Nurse Jackie asks as if I actually have a say in it. She always talks to me like that.
I nod. Even though I'm perfectly capable of walking, they put me in a wheelchair anyways. I wave bye to G, then they wheel me down the hall, Dr. Montez walking far ahead. As we're wheeling down at 5 miles per hour, I hear a little WHOOOOOO! coming from the little intersection in the hallway. Then something collides with me and I'm knocked out of my wheelchair.