absolutely wonderful [joshler]

quatorze

a few days later, after i've taken my first round of injections and released from the hospital, i'm back at school again.

"you're going to live a normal life, tyler," my mother had said at dinner last night. "and if that means going to school five days a week to get an education, so be it."

going to school isn't even something i want to do anymore, but i don't have a say in it. it's not about me getting an education anymore. it's about my mother not wanting to see me sitting around doing nothing until i die.

so for now, i'm sitting in my art class next to josh. before he changed his schedule, josh took band, so to see him attempting to draw a hand is quite the spectacle.

"crap," he growls, erasing a large chunk of the paper. "how the heck do you draw a fingernail?"

i laugh a bit.

"hey, if you think it's so funny, why don't you draw it for me? besides, what are you drawing?"

i use my arm to cover my drawing. "you're not allowed to see it."

"it's a picture of me, isn't it," he says, trying to take my notebook away from me.

"maybe." i push the notebook out of his reach. "maybe not."

"come on, ty. lemme see it!" josh whines as he makes grabby hands.

i roll my eyes. "it's not done yet."

"does it look like i care?"

sighing, i pass the notebook to him.

(art from @/delis_art on instagram)

"tyler, this is amazing, oh my god."

i smile. "thanks."

"how did you do this?"

"i don't know," i shrug. "i took the day that we were out in the forest and put it on paper, i guess."

"this is like, the best drawing ever. you're better than beethoven!" he exclaims.

i full on laugh this time, ending up coughing afterwards. "beethoven was a composer, dummy."

"i meant van gogh. same difference," he mutters.

"um, not same difference," i point out. "can i have my drawing back?"

josh grins. "no."

"but i'm not finished."

"let me rephrase this: no." he closes my notebook and places it in his backpack, careful not to crinkle any of the papers stuffed inside it.

"you're gonna give that back, right?"

"nope," he says, popping the p as the bell rings.

i make a noise of annoyance as i sling on my backpack. "can't you be one of those boyfriends that steals hoodies instead of notebooks?"

"don't worry, baby. i'll steal your hoodies, too."

we walk out of the classroom together and down the hall, where we have our last class of the day: english. i've heard other students talking about some sort of essay, so naturally, i don't want to go to english today.

but i do, sitting in the back of the room next to josh as we wait for class to start.

"settle down, everyone," the teacher calls once the bell rings. "now, i know you think you've got this huge essay due. we're only working on the organizer today.

"i trust that your friends didn't spoil the topic of interest for you, but because you're seventeen year olds, they already have. we'll be writing about what you would want to do if you died today."

my heart stops beating for a second, i swear. josh's hand finds mine and i feel a squeeze of reassurance. did the teacher forget that he had a terminally ill student in his class? i mean, he teaches over two hundred students every day, but i'm not the type of student you forget.

"whether you want to spend it all with your family, or hike the grand canyon rim to rim, your job is to write about what you'd spend your day last day on earth doing. you have until the end of the period, folks."

i shudder and take out my english notebook and a pencil.

"you don't have to do it, ty," josh says, glancing over at the teacher before looking back at me.

"no," i mutter. "i'll do it. i'm still a student and i'm expected to do the work. besides, my last day is coming up sooner rather than later."

josh shakes his head. "don't say that, tyler."

i keep my eyes on my paper and start making a list, not wanting to talk to josh as i feel tears brimming in the corners of my eyes.

if i were to die today, i'd like to:

-spend the entire day with josh;

-wake up

-eat breakfast

-hold hands

-eat lunch

-eat dinner

-sleep

i know it doesn't look like much. but what else am i going to be able to do? chances are, my lungs won't be working enough for me to even talk. i'd be tethered to the hospital bed and breathing machine, just waiting for nature to kick in.

it pains me to think about having josh see me like that. cold, alive. but i'd rather be broken with josh by my side than be perfectly normal without him on my last day alive.