Some TFIOS scenes through Gus' eyes

The gas station parking lot scene

I'm in my room, lying on my bed. I reach for my cigarette pack on my night stand but it's not there. "mom, did you take my pack?" I scream softly but loud enough for her to hear me.

"no" she answers "maybe you lost it. I'll get you a new one in the morning. Now go to bed and get some rest. I love you"

She's been saying that a lot ever since I got diagnosed. 'I love you'. She's also been trying to do everything for me. Making sure I get enough rest.

I just lie in bed while listening to my favorite band, The Hectic Glow. After a few hours I think to myself that I can get my own pack of cigarettes if I want to. I can still do at least that one thing for myself.

Once I'm sure my parents are asleep I grab my medicine and my g-tube, sneak out and go to the nearest gas station.

When I get there and open the door, I try sliding out of my seat but my g-tube gets stuck on the shift and I accidentally tug on it, and it comes out just a little. But I already feel the effect of something going wrong.

I lift my shirt and look at it, it already is starting to look red. I feel sick and can't hold it in anymore. I puke down on my feet and lay my head back.

I start to get frustrated and bang the wheel with my hand. Which also bangs some of my energy away from me.

How could I let this happen? Why can't I manage even this on my own?

I try to fix my g-tube by moving it around but it only seems to be making it worse. I puke again but this time I don't have the energy to move to my feet and it lands all over my lap.

I can't do this on my own. I can't call nine-one-one either because they will just contact my parents and I can't have them know I snuck out. I have to prove I can still do stuff on my own. But when I puke again on my lap I decide that I can't.

So I call the one person I can trust in something like this. I call Hazel. She answers the phone with a soft "Hello?" maybe she thinks I passed and my parents are calling to tell her.

So I quickly, but weakly say "Hazel Grace"

"Oh, thank God it's you." she answers "Hi. Hi, I love you".

Without any time to waste I tell her about my problem and where I am. I tell her to please not call nine-one-one. I tell her to just come and please fix my g-tube.

By now I'm crying. When She finally gets here and opened the car door the interior lights shone on me and made me feel a little more sick.

All I could manage to get out was a muffled "Hi". She wanted to get me to a hospital but I convinced her to just check it out herself. She told me it was infected and asked me why I was here in the first place.

I puked, not bothering to move to my feet this time, and tell her that I wanted to get a new pack of cigarettes. I told her that I wanted to do one thing myself. One little thing myself. I was getting a little dizzy and started to stare straight ahead.

She says shes sorry and starts to dial nine-one-one. I look at her with the sick look in my face. A face I can't really prevent because I actually feel sick.

"This is it. I can't even not smoke anymore." I say frustrated. She just said she loves me. I bang the steering wheel, frustrated, and say how much I hate myself right now. I just want to die right here right now to end this. Why can't I just die?

She wiped my chin and cupped my face in her hands. Knelt down so our eyes meet. She says shes sorry. She tells me I'm okay. I answer "Okay".

Then she makes me promise not to do this again. She tells me she will get me cigarettes. And I just look at her. She insist in me promising so I close my eyes and nod.

I ask her to read me something. I hear the ambulance ride right pass us and a part of me wishes it doesn't come back. But another part of me hopes it comes back and saves me.

No, I just want to die right here. With Hazel. Hazel recites 'The Red Wheelbarrow' by William Carlos Williams. When the poem ends she starts making up her own words with the rhythm of the poem. I feel like I'm about to pass out any minute but before I let myself slip I manage to tell her a few more words. "And you say you don't write poetry"