When I Die [Wattys 2016]

Chapter 48: This is Over

I spent all of my cash on a cab home. It was quite a drive, and my cabbie smelled like BO and stale cigarettes. It took us a few extra minutes to get home because we got turned around a few times. When we finally pulled up in front of my house, Myra was standing out front, looking particularly spiteful.
"Looks like someone's in trouble," Jim, the cabbie commented offhandedly.
"Thanks," I replied, handing him a wad of bills. "Keep it."
"Hey you sure?" He called out the window, I ignored him long enough for him to peel out, tires splashing rain.
I tried to walk in the house past her.
"Oh, no," she said, stepping between me and the door, "you are not ignoring me here too."
I cut my eyes upward, feeling like I was a fourteen year old asshole, like Sam.
"There's nothing left to talk about Myra. You said plenty."
"Yeah, but you didn't," she crossed her arms over her chest.
"What are you talking about?" I rolled my eyes.
"How long, Leo?" She said.
I furrowed my eye brows at her.
"How long!?" She screeched.
"What are you talking about?!" I shouted. Ms. Donelly's lights came on across the street.
"How long, Leo, how long?" She repeated.
"You're speaking in code, I don't know what you're saying!"
"How long do you have?"
I looked at her blankly and scoffed.
"I'm not doing this," I muttered, trying to move around her to the walkway.
"Yes, you are! How long! How long do you have!" She stepped in front of me, once again blocking my path.
"Two months," I said flatly.
Her eyes widened, and she took her hands and pushed me backwards by the chest, into the car. My house keys fell on the ground beside me.
"What the fuck!"
"How long have you known!" She screamed.
"Does it matter?" I laughed darkly.
"Yes it matters! You don't think other people deserve to know? You don't think you owed that to Reid and I?"

I shook my head, looking down at my feet and then snapped.
"I don't owe anything to anyone. This is my life. This is my death. I don't need to tell you anything. You sure didn't tell me about Brown. You think I'd let you do that? Lie and put your life on hold? This is my shit, not yours," I scowled.

"You're so fucking selfish. You know," she seethed, " you talk so much shit about your dad but you're just like him."

I snapped, then, I grabbed her wrist, pushing her away from me. Her eyes were vibrant, full of something resembling hate.
"This..." I laughed, "was a fucking mistake. You and I... we weren't fate. We weren't meant to be. We're not star-crossed lovers. All of this is nothing more than coincidence. I would have fucked any girl who lived down the road from me! I would have had a very white, very suburban senior year story, no matter who it was. And I would have gotten cancer. And I will die you understand? I will die no matter what you think about it. I don't have anymore time to pretend with you. What did you think? That a miracle would happen? That you'd kiss me and all of this... everything inside of me would just go away? Sorry, Myra, this isn't some sort of fairy tale. This is real life. And you know what, you don't have to be a part of it. When I die, I'll be nothing but a glorified jar of dust. And you will go on! You will be sad for a year or so but you'll move on with the help of some man who you meet at school who is unique and different and in touch with his emotions and helps you through 'so much'", I say, using air quotes.
"Turning me into just a part of your love story with him. And you'll both go to shows for a while and camp at festivals and travel to hostels. But then, you both inevitably trade in your Doc Martens for dress shoes and work a soul-crushing nine-to-five, and you'll get married at a chapel and pop out 2.5 kids and live in a tiny house outside of Boulder and you will forget I ever happened. And you'll quit pretending not to be like every other little white girl in this town. You can't be in a relationship with me and him. The closure has to happen now. This is over."
She watched my entire speech in silent rage and then snatched her hand away.
"You know what you are Leo? You're a scared little boy. That's what you are. You're no inspiring story. You're not strong. You're selfish, you mask all this... all of this lying and keeping it to yourself as caring about others and making sure everyone is taken care of, but you're still the same selfish, bratty, self-indulgent and pitying asshole you've always been. Cancer doesn't take away your shitty personality. You knew Reid would want to be here. You knew we'd want to know what we were working with. You have people who love and care about you, and you didn't even let us know the truth. I had to find out by watching you... by seeing the hospital bed! You are so selfish. It's what everyone has wanted to say for so long, but couldn't because you became the poster child for childhood cancer. Well, just because you're an unfortunate person doesn't mean you're a perfect one. And being sick doesn't excuse you for being an asshole."
We stood in a stale mate in the driveway, the rain got worse as the argument did. I stared at her, absorbing her words, the rage burning straight through my chest as if I were lit by kerosene.
"Well, you won't have to worry about it for long. I'm getting what I deserve soon enough."
She was still enraged. She might have hit me if I stood there another second. I grabbed my keys from the ground and watched as my hand shook.
"Bye, Myra." I said, feeling the depth of the period at the end of my sentence. I wanted her to hear the finality.
I walked inside, leaving her in the rain.