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It seemed to me that cancer is just one of the few constants in my life.

My mother's mom, Clara, was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1994, as well as 2006 and she is now doing chemotherapy for stage four ovarian cancer. My mother's dad, Earl, had been smoking since he was eighteen. He's now sixty-eight and has stage one lung cancer. My father's mother, Betty Jean, beat her thyroid cancer just a month ago, and her husband, Robert, beat his prostate cancer a little over a year ago.
Its something that I've gotten used to. The radiation, the chemo, they're both things I have grown accustomed to.

Along with the reoccurring cancer, there was always my parents, siblings, my dog, Beau. Oh, and not to mention my own personal hell, Reagan High.

School isn't that bad. I like the academics a hell of a lot more than I like the faculty and students. Don't get me wrong, I find some people interesting and appealing. But only some. There is this one guy, Allan Reed. The school's star athlete. We've only spoken a few times. Maybe a few words about atoms in Mrs. Patterson's chemistry class, but other than that, nothing.

I haven't determined how I feel about him yet. Is he friend or foe? Maybe even a subltle infatuation.

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