Make a Wish » Trevor Moran

Chapter Twenty-Two

Maisy's POV

What were Susan and my mom talking about? And if you're wondering, yes, I was pretending to be asleep.

It's for the best. I can't see her in so much pain.

What does that even mean? Was my mom talking about me?

She most likely was. I mean, have you seen me lately? My best friend just died. And the only other people who will talk to me are miles away.

But what was she talking about? Was she going to let me get a tattoo? Was she going to send me to a foster home? Were they going to move me out of the hospital? I can only imagine.

I decided to shower once they both left the room. I slipped on a pair of jean shorts and a Forever 21 shirt Erin had bought me.

What's the point of even getting dressed? I'm staying here all day.

Maybe Jack can come over? I doubt it. He's probably with his girlfriend. Or taking care of his mom, which is understandable.

from: jay jay

hey boo how r u

Aw, Jc texted me!

to: jay jay

tired. bored. wbu?

from: jay jay

same. just wanted 2 see how u were

I didn't reply since he was just checking up on me.

Why can't I make friends? It's not like I'm shy. I can make conversation like a normal person.

Is it because of my condition? I have cancer, but so do millions of people. And the doctors say I'm getting better! I just don't understand.

Today calls for some Glee. Glee always makes me feel better. While I waited for the credits to end, I scrolled through all of the pictures I took in Cali.

Erin and I, Erin and I, my mom and I, Lea Michele and I, palm trees, beach, Tyler Oakley and I . . .

"Now everywhere I go I'm known as the girl with the raging yeast infection." Santana says and I bust out laughing.

That was the first time I've actually smiled or even laughed in the past few days. Wow.

•

"Maisy? Can I talk to you?" Mom comes into my room and sits at the end of the bed.

"Sure. What's up?" She puts her hand on my leg and looks at me.

"I know you've been very . . . distant lately." She starts. "And I hate seeing you like that."

"What do you mean mom?" I ask her.

"Well, you're best friend just died and I can tell you're hurting." She tells me.

"Wouldn't you?" I counter.

"This isn't about me. And I know you like the little one. Trevor? Yeah, Trevor. The way you looked at him was amazing." She says and I blush.

"Do you miss them?" She wonders.

"I guess. Even though they only left yesterday. They're the only friends I have left." I admit to her. She probably already knew as well.

"Do you wish you could hang out with them nods often?" She asks.

"Why are you asking so many weird questions?"

"Just answer the question." She says.

"Yes. Of course I do! They live hundreds of miles away. It's not like I can ride a bike to LA or anything to see them." I answer her.

"And if you could live closer to them, would you?" She asks hesitantly.

"I'd love to. But what are you asking me?" She doesn't answer and raises her eyebrows.

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

"Are you saying . . . "

"Yes. We are moving to LA!"