Another one shot that explains the hints dropped in his chapter about tenth grade (i.e. not dating anyone SINCE tenth grade, almost failing tenth grade) -C
Cancer is the kind of thing that hollows you out. For both ends of the party. Thomas, in no way, believes that he was the difficult part. But he wishes more than anything he didn't have to see Martha decay and wither away in front of his eyes. Every passing day, it becomes clearer and clearer.
Before tenth grade is out, he is going to be missing the love of his life.
He can't think about it without crying. In class. At home. Alone. He wants to cry, and he's always crying. His schoolwork gets stained in various spots, and he tears it in so many spots until he gets an F. His tests are the only thing that keep him afloat, because he can do it well. No studying.
And then Madison gives him that look, and Martha cries in her hospital bed, and he forces his rockstar mystique upon anyone who is watching him.
So he buys Martha another gift, skips another class, and he stays in her hospital room until she falls asleep with being comforted. And then he's alone, and he has to wonder if anyone would comfort him.
Then, Thomas bows his head and realizes that he is not the person who should be in pain right now.
When his report card is finally placed in front of him, he realizes what he's doing to himself. He's twisting himself into knots, getting rid of everything that used to bring him pride. When James happily skips in, practically singing about his As, Thomas laughs. He whispers something about that yeah, he did well too. His hand covers the Ds and Cs, but he gets the sneaking suspicion that James knows he's lying.
His parents sit him down for that conversation. Talk about how high school romance means nothing. That while Martha's life is hard, he doesn't need to ruin his own to ease that pain.
Thomas slams his fist against the table, puffing up his gut. He lies through his teeth, saying he can go anywhere he wants. But, at the same time, he knows it's true. That any college would accept him if he threw enough money at them. For that is all people hoped for. Money. And what is Thomas besides a walking bag of money?
His parents yell at him, and he yells back. He yells until his throat is raw, and yelling is just as hard as sobbing, but he would rather be yelling because all he does is sob.
James eventually corners him when he's at his locker, carefully rearranging his books. Maybe this time he can actually read it. He glances to the left, where Martha's empty locker sits. Because she hasn't been back since chemo started and she's just so tired, so exhausted. And he is too. What a perfect pair of them.
His lips are moving, but Thomas looks away and pretends he doesn't hear. He hurries off to class, tossing a goodbye. Swaggering in, he is practically blowing kisses.
In class, his phone buzzes and he springs upright. He glances, and it's Martha's mom, and oh God, no. Not this.
He races out of the classroom, and he keeps running, and running, until he collapses against the wall in the bathroom. He can't breathe. There's a weight in his stomach. He's panting and wheezing and sobbing, and then there are arms around him, hugging him. And he leans into the arms and sobs. Sobs until he can't breathe, and he can't see straight, and he can't even talk without blubbering.
James' voice brings him to reality, and he knows he never even answered his phone. He rips it out, and the moment he hears the sober tone, he knows he needs to go. Run and run, and never look back.
James tries to stop him, but he's too dead set. He needs to get there. He can't...He has to be there.
Even with a learner's permit, he knows he can get there. He almost smashes into another car, but he knows he got there when he sees the pearly whiteness of the hospital.
He races through the halls. Races through the sterile building. Checks himself in and keeps running. Keeps racing. Crashes past Martha's mom into Martha's room. He takes one look and he knows.
Staggering towards the hospital bed, he collapses in the chair next to it. His beautiful, brilliant Martha turns her head, stares at him. He stared at her. Thomas and Martha, the best couple the tenth grade has ever seen.
The best couple the tenth grade had ever seen.
Her weak hand, her pale hand, slips into his dark one. The softness rubs against the callouses caused by the violin.
She squeezes as tight as she can, but that's barely more than a glance. Her glazed, glassy eyes find his watery ones. "Thomas...?"
"I'm here," he chokes out, his head dropping forward. Thank God he has the dreadlocks, the ringlets covering his face. He can hide. He can disappear.
Martha laughs, watery and breathy and way too awkward. "Can...Can you make...Me a promise...?"
He's about to respond when Martha cuts him off. "Please...?"
"Yes! Sure! Whatever you want!" Thomas is practically screaming it, desperate to be heard over the incessant beeping, the beeping that is going away slowly and surely.
Martha smiles. Weakly. "D-don't date anyone else...Don't cause anyone the pain I've put you through."
"Martha, I'd never trade a moment..." The beeping is speeding up, slowing down, not deciding. The doctors are about to rush in.
Her head falls back, her words coming out in a puff. "That's why."
He starts screaming. The doctors have to drag him off. Have to get him to the hallway, where he collapses to his knees.
Thomas presses his hand against his heart. His fingers curl around it, as if he wants to rip it out. Like he just wants to get rid of the pain. And Thomas wants that more than anything.
He closes his eyes, lifts his head, and prays. To the newly formed angel, Martha. And he promises. He promises he'd never hurt anyone like that again. Never commit to a relationship. Because none could beat Martha, and none could erase the pain that will weigh down his heart forever.
Then, Thomas staggers to his feet. And he wobbles out of the door, making his frozen and ripped heart bleed.
