Before We Say Goodbye

Chapter Five: Normal

Chapter Five - Sophie

The words come pouring out of his mouth the way water pours out of a tap. Non-stop. No breaks. The only way to make him quiet would be to turn off the tap…but that’s not possible.

I don’t even think that I want to turn it off.

To have someone open up to me – it feels amazing. Because trust me, the thing that a dying person, a disabled person, a handicapped person, an injured person – what they want most is to feel needed. To feel normal. To feel like they can be trusted, confided in. All these things are what we need most.

It feels so strange how easily I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m dying. Maybe it’s because I still think it’s going to blow over. The results were wrong. I might as well act as though I’m dying until they realise they’ve made a mistake.

Or maybe it’s because when something as drastic as this hits you, you can’t get it out of your head, not for a second.

Damon looks at his feet awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Well, ha, I guess I told you…a lot. You probably weren’t after my life story.” He laughs uncomfortably.

And right here, right now, the one thing I really want to do is give this boy a hug. Hug away his worries. But he would most likely get a little creeped out if I did that.

I smile. “Don’t worry, Damon. I like that you told me everything. Even though we don’t even know each other. I get the feeling you’ve needed to open up to someone for a long time. You could always tell me more if you wanted. I’m a good listener.”

He shakes his head. “No. I’ve told you too much already. You’re right, though. Reliving it makes me feel better now.”

I watch him in curiously. Something about him just has me fascinated. I don’t know why. Looks wise he’s as fit as the next boy. I mean, yeah, he is a looker despite his burns, but he’s nothing special, not really. Personality…well, at first he was quick to jump to conclusions. I don’t know much about him, to be honest, we’ve only just met.

Which makes me wonder why he told me about it. Maybe it’s because I’m the first person who hasn’t judged him.

Whatever his reason, I’m happy.

“So,” Damon says.

We’re sitting on a bench in the park. He hasn’t touched his muffin yet, and I’m fighting the will to ask him if I can eat it. I don’t want to seem greedy – but it’s not like he’s eating it.

“What?” I say, my eyes now fixed on the muffin, thinking Give me the muffin. Give me the muffin. over and over. Maybe if I think hard enough, he’ll hear me.

“What are you staring at?” he asks.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing.”

I look up quickly. He’s scowling at me.

“Do me a favour, right?” he asks.

I nod. “Sure.”

“Can you pretend I never spoke to you? Pretend like you don’t know everything about me. I shouldn’t’ve told you. You’re a stranger. I don’t know what made me tell you, but I don’t like that I did. So please, pretend we never even met.”

With that, he stands up and starts to walk away. I stare after him, dumbstruck.

What is this? my heart asks my brain. Why is he walking away?

He regrets telling you, stupid, my brain replies. And it’s no surprise, too.

I stand up. “Oi!” I yell.

He looks back. “Can I help you?”

“You can’t just leave!”

“Watch me.”

He turns around again. I feel tears coming on. I don’t know why this is affecting me, but it is. It shouldn’t, it really shouldn’t. I’ve only known him for about half an hour, so it’s no big loss.

Wait, yeah it is. His loss, though, not mine.

I don’t care. I couldn’t care less. With an attitude like that, I wouldn’t want to be friends with him.

Hey, I’m pretty confident around him!

I feel a difference in myself. No more blushing when people first talk to me. No more talking quietly. No more holding back.

But I can’t kid myself. For some unknown reason, I care that Damon is leaving me. He’s the only person who doesn’t treat me with pity. I don’t want to lose that. It won’t last long as it is.

Then I see something I can use to get him to stay.

“Wait a second,” I call, running after him. “You forgot your muffin!”

He turns around again. “What?”

“Your muffin,” I pant, tired.

What’s wrong with me? I’ve barely run five metres, yet I’m dog tired. And my headache is back with burning passion. I don’t get it. I used to be able to get to level 9 on the bleep test. Why am I so tired from running so little?

“Are you okay?” Damon asks, concerned.

I glow a little inside, knowing that that concern is for me. I feel a bit better already with that knowledge.

“Yup,” I say, pasting a big bright smile on my face. “Here.” I hold out his muffin.

He reaches out to take it, but just when he’s about to touch it I whisk it back.

“Uh uh. I’m holding it for ransom.”

He narrows his eyes. “What?”

“Yeah. You don’t get it until you give me something.”

“Give you what?”

I feel really awkward about what I’m about to say, but it needs to be said. I really like Damon, and he’s one of two people I didn’t feel shy with when I first met them. Him, and Mark. So. I’m going to make a new friend here.

“Um, so,” I mumble, my face heating up like the Sahara desert. “CanIhaveyournumber?”