I'd Live For You, If Only I Could (Completed)

Four

Since I'm catching up on updates today

I trudge up the stairs with my tank on my back and a mass of bodies shoving my unstable body around like a rag doll. By the time I reach my landing, spots are swimming in my eyes and I can barely feel the ground beneath my feet. Even though it has been a good minute since the bell rang, I drag my feet into the classroom and locate my seat. My gaze meets my teacher's with an understanding look and he doesn't say anything as I sit down. Luckily, my seat is at the back, the farthest from the front, so when my phone buzzes in my pocket, I slip it out and check the message. It's from Scott.

S: I want to tell you
M: What
S: who i like duh
S: jk you wouldn't have known that
M: THEN TELL ME I WANNA KNOW
S: chill i'll tell you after school. come over to my house. i'll take you home k?
M: sure now shut up I'm in french and I have to learn unfortunately. I slip my phone back into my pocket and focus on the board for the rest of class.

****

The last three classes pass quickly, seeing as they are all on the same floor and I can avoid the stairs for the rest of the day. After seventh period, I find Scott at his locker. He is clearly invested in something on his phone, so when I tap his shoulder he jumps.

"Don't do that. You gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry. Come on, I don't feel like being here any longer than I have to."

"Same." We walk down the halls and to the ominous staircase, where Scott makes a point of going at my pace. On our way down, I see the tall guy from earlier coming down the staircase above me. He raises his middle finger at me again and my cheeks catch on fire as I stare straight ahead again.

****

Finally safe in Scott's house, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. The faint scent of vanilla that always lingers there reaches me and I smile as we go up to Scott's room. Once we are situated on his bed, facing each other with the door shut, he says, "Okay. I'm going to tell you. I think. Crap, I'm scared."

"Just tell me. You trust me, and I'm pretty sure you've told me every single thing ever, so why stop now?"

"Okay, okay, just do me a favor. Close your eyes. I don't want you to see my face when I say it." I roll my eyes as they shut and say, "Okay, now tell me." He takes a deep breath and I imagine him running his hands through his hair.

"It's you." My heart stops, and I can't stop myself from opening my eyes.

"What?" His cheeks are bright red and his eyes are focusing anywhere but me.

"Yeah." A thousand thoughts race through my head, but panic is the only thing I feel. I stand up, tears blurring my vision.

"No." I feel the clumsy word tumble from my mouth and then repeat it. "No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?" The look of pain on his face is unbearable.

"You can't. You can't like me."

"I do." Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice is screaming at me to tell him on what level I reciprocate his feelings. I open my mouth with the intent to say, "I'm completely and utterly in love with you," but instead I say, "I have to go." I turn and start harshly, quickly toward the door, tears running down my face, but my cart gets caught on something and yanks my line out, immediately catching my by surprise. I fumble for it and bend over, which Scott takes as an opportunity to block my exit.

"Look, Mitch, I know it's a problem because you're straight-" I cut him off with a shake of my head. "Y-you're not straight? Since when?"

"Since before I met you." I readjust my line under my nose and stand back up. "I was born gay."

"Is there even any chance of us being together?" His voice is barely above a whisper now. My heart leaps into my throat at the idea, the idea that I have imagined countless times in the few years since I've known my best friend. I always thought it was impossible, and now that he is standing here, asking about us having a relationship, it feels surreal. Then my over-analyzing, too-logical-for-my-own-good mind steps in and knocks the dream away, leaving me to face the cold, harsh reality: I still have cancer, and I still only have a matter of time to live.

"I-" I can't seem to form a sentence, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open my eyes again, Scott is still staring at me with a hurt expression on his face and sadness shining in his eyes. "Can we sit for a minute?" He sighs and walks over to his bed. I sit next to him. "Scott, I don't like you." I can practically feel his heart break, so I quickly follow up with, "I'm in love with you." He lifts his gaze to mine, and I see hope lingering in the overwhelming blue. Adrenaline mixed with fear is coursing through me, making me feel powerful and weak at the same time.

"Really?" His voice is quiet again as I nod. "I want to kiss you."

"There's a problem." I ignore his last statement and hurt flashes in his eyes again. "We...we can't be together."

"Why?"

"I-I'm gonna die."

"We all die, Mitch."

"I'm gonna die soon-"

"No, you're not. You're gonna get better. You're gonna get better, and live until you're old because you're Mitch fucking Grassi, and you're basically immortal and everyone loves you and you have to live." The tears welling in his eyes make me want to go hide under a rock.

"Scott, you know just as much as I do that that's not true. They told me five months, and it's been two. They said by next month it'll be a miracle if I can still go to school and live outside of the hospital."

"B-but you seem so healthy."

"I'm not. And we both know that. If we start going out, all it will do is end up hurting you." He opens his mouth to respond, but I keep going. "You read The Fault in Our Stars. I know it's fiction, but how similar does that seem to us? Too similar for me to let you fall for me any more. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Newsflash, Mitch. I've already fallen for you. And there's no coming back. Since you mentioned The Fault in Our Stars, might I remind you of a very important quote? 'You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world. But you do have some say in who hurts you.' I have to say, if anyone's going to hurt me, I want it to be you. I'm in love with you. Can we just agree that we love each other and that we should cherish that as much as we can before..." He trails off and looks away, but in some crazy surge of bravery, I slide my fingers under his chin and make him look at me.

"Will you go out with me?" The words I've wanted to say to him since I was fourteen roll so easily off my tongue that I am surprised. He smiles and leans into my palm.

"Of course I will."