It Was a Metaphor

Chapter One: My Life is a Freaking Ray of Sunshine

The pain was passing, but still ever-present. The grief of losing Augustus Waters, stolen from me by cancer, felt like my heart was being run over by a train all the time. Knowing that when I called his phone, I would never hear his voice again, and I would never see him smiling that crooked smile again, just brought on a tsunami of pain. It was like a wave of grief looming over me at all times, darkening my mood, with few smiles or laughs in my life. I could still imagine him, looking at me with those bright, dancing blue eyes at Oranjee in Amsterdam, wearing his death suit as we sat next to the canal and we sipped the stars. Or champagne, but I preferred the term Augustus and I shared. It reminded me of our little infinity. At the time, Gus seemed healthy and alive, not at all made mostly of fatal tumors. His smile was goofy and too big for his face, and I love talking to him about everything. From the wrongness scrambled eggs being solely categorized as a breakfast food, to discussing An Imperial Affliction, our favorite book. See how it's all present tense? Yeah, that wasn't a mistake. I still love Gus, despite his lack of presence in my life, and I know that no matter how long I live, I will love him until I draw my last breath.



It had been a couple weeks since his death, and I had improved. I could eat whole meals, cracking a smile sometimes, maybe a laugh here and there. My parents finally convinced me to return to my college classes, saying I had to "complete my academic requirements" so that I can have a "real, happy, mostly normal future." Yeah, because having lung cancer and carrying around a portable oxygen tank, with plastic nubs in my nose, was completely normal. Let me explain my situation first. Basically, my lungs sucked at what they did. I had to have them drained every few weeks of fluid, and I took a drug called Phalanxifor to prevent the growth and/or spreading of my tumors. I was one of the few people to use the drug that turned out well. Anyway, I had just showered and dressed in simple skinny jeans and a T-shirt, and sat down to breakfast. My parents looked up from their laptops. "

We're so proud of you, honey," my mom smiled at me.

I just shrugged, then sat down and began eating my scrambled eggs. My chest tightened, reminding me of the morning we left for Amsterdam, and the discussion Augustus and I had about the categorization of scrambled eggs being only breakfast food. It seemed that right when I felt a little better about his passing, something reminded me of Augustus, slamming into my heart like a freight train. But this morning I was feeling relatively optimistic. I hadn't been to classes since before Gus died, but I was trying to move on, without forgetting Gus. I couldn't forget him even if I wanted to. Breakfast was otherwise silent, and my mom let me take her car, since she was just going to work on her online courses at home and wouldn't need the car.

I had just arrived in the classroom and taken my seat, getting out my assignments I had had to make up in my absence, since I used my time to grieve, and more recently, make up my work. After handing it in to my teacher, I noticed the person sitting next to me was new, and the person who used to sit there was no longer in the class. He probably switched classes or something. Instead if introducing myself and being friendly like I should've been, I just tried to ignore the newcomer. I snuck a glance at him before the teacher walked in, and the guy was attractive. Not as attractive as Augustus, but still very, very good-looking. He had shaggy, golden hair, and chocolate brown eyes. He was tall and strong, his muscled chest and arms complimented by his T-shirt and worn leather jacket. His skin was tanned naturally by the sun, none of that fake tan crap people used to look like a surfer or something. After class, which was boring as usual, I collected my notes and began to leaving, wheeling my tank with me. The people in my class were used to it, but the newbie hurried up to me and smiled, his teeth perfectly white and straight.



"Hi. I'm Will. You're Hazel, right?"



I was taken aback. Will hadn't asked about my tank, or if I was going to die, and all that stuff. He just talked to me like I was healthy and not slowly dying inside.



"Uh, yeah I'm Hazel," I replied timidly.



I hadn't had much experience with people of the other gender, other than Augustus and my friend Isaac, both of whom I met at Cancer Support Group in the Literal Heart of Jesus, or the church basement. Isaac and I had both been close to Augustus, and we grieved together, mostly swapping Gus stories and playing video games, trying to get the voice-activated game console to have a fun conversation. Technological beings are so void of imagination and humor nowadays. Now that I was faced with speaking to Will, my mind blanked. What was I supposed to do? Keep a conversation going? And, if so, about what?! I doubt I could talk to him like I talked to Gus. But I guess I could try.



"I hope I'm not being rude, and you don't have to answer, but I was wondering why you needed your cart thingy and if you wanted me to help you with your books or the cart?" He seemed almost nervous, like a little boy afraid of being disappointed. It was cute, in a way.



"No, it's fine. I, uh, have cancer in my lungs, but it's not spreading so I'm fine right now, and the cart has oxygen that travels up the tube to help me breathe, 'cause my lungs suck. And to answer your second question, I can carry it all. Thanks though." I spoke in a monotone, being used to this, since a countless number of people had asked those questions in the past. I mean, people see me managing fine carrying everything, and I'm not struggling, so I don't see the need to help me. I guess it's a guy thing or something weird like that.



"Oh, I'm sorry, Hazel. But you know, if you need some cheering up, I've been told I have a knee-slapping sense if humor. I tell killer knock-knock jokes," he smiled crookedly.



A lump formed in my throat. Augustus used to smile like that, crookedly with a light in his eyes, similar to what Will was doing now. I guess my emotions had been written upon my face, because he asked, "Did I upset you? I'm sorry Hazel. Is here something I could do?"

"No. There's nothing you can do. The way you smiled, it reminded me of someone....very important to me." My voice cracked at the end, and I fought hard to hold back the tears, and I took deep breaths with my eyes closed. When I opened my eyes, Will looked sympathetic and regretful.



"I'm sorry, Hazel. I heard that your boyfriend died of cancer recently. If you ever need anything you can talk to me during class, but in a very low voice so the teacher doesn't hear. God, that's probably weird to hear from someone you just met," he laughed nervously. Smiling sadly, I shook my head.



"You apologize too much. It's fine, Will. I'm a lot better, and maybe I will take you up on that offer. But I don't see why people say sorry when they didn't do anything to blame themselves for. It isn't like you gave Gus cancer and killed him. The world killed him, because my life is a freaking ray of sunshine. As you can see, I'm one lucky girl," I said with bitter sarcasm. I immediately regretted it, because I was taking my anger at the world out on innocent Will, and I felt insanely guilty. I managed to turn a normal, conversational sentence into a snotty one.



"I'm sorry," I sighed. "It's just really hard for me still to deal with what happened, and the one person I need to talk to is the one I'm depressed over, and I had eggs for breakfast when I could have them for dinner, and I miss his blue eyes and....it's j-just too much. I really need to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow in class maybe. I'm really sorry, Will." And with that I left the building and just sat in the car, crying. Crying for Gus, my beautiful, humorous, intelligent, deceased Gus. I needed to talk to Augustus about Augustus. The Augustus I could never hug or kiss or laugh with again. Why did this have to happen to me?