We Are Stars | OLD DRAFT

Chapter Twenty-Three: Rock Bottom

Three Weeks Ago...

"Where would you like me to start?" He asks.

"Start with why you left," I order, taking a seat back on the bench.

Noah sits next to me, his fingers interlaced on his lap. "That's a bit of a long and complicated story."

"Than uncomplicate it," I say more distraughtly, fighting to keep eye contact with him as he's gazing down. "You know that I deserve an explanation."

He unleashes a strong sigh as his lips part, his eyes still refusing to look up. "Okay." I feel uneasy as he begins his story, now feeling unsure if I want to hear it or not. "About a week before the car crash, I started getting these headaches. They were nothing at first, but then they started getting worse. I was starting to see double of everything and I was sleeping excessively. My mom thought it was just allergies or a cold." He pauses for a moment as he looks off into the street, watching as dozens and dozens of cars scream as they pass by. "Then I started to feel pain on my left side."

I begin to imagine the worst. Noah never told me any of this before. If he had, I would've remembered. But he chose to keep this to himself. Even when we were together and all seemed well, he kept this from me. He was in pain and I didn't know about it. This just makes me wonder what else he was hiding from me back then. "Was this during the week you didn't answer my phone calls or text messages?" I ask.

Noah nods. "Yeah, it was.

"Then why didn't you call back?"

"Well when the pain started, my mom scheduled an appointment with an infectious disease specialist. She thought I could've caught something during the school trip to Mexico and wanted to be sure. But after a few tests... I was sent to a hematologist," he explains with great sadness. I know what a hematologist specializes in. They treat blood diseases and disorders. What I don't get is why Noah would be sent to one. "Both doctors had a theory, Nyc. And after a few blood tests, that theory was proven to be correct... and they had the damn paperwork to prove it."

I'm silent, but I let my body do the talking. I slowly shake my head in denial. His words carve their way into my brain, those horrible, horrible words. Though he doesn't emphasize on his main point, I know what he's talking about. Why else would he be sent to a physician that treats blood cancers, diseases, and disorders?

Back then, before Noah left town, I knew something was off with him. I haven't seen or heard from him for a few weeks before the accident. I was worrying out of my mind about him. His mom wouldn't say anything either, and every time I went over to their house to check up on him, no one would answer the door. I guess even then I knew that our relationship was over, but I didn't want to admit it. I was caught in the stage of disbelief, just as I was when Mom died. And now it's happening all over again.

I watch as I tear rolls down Noah's cheek. This conversation is undoubtedly hard on me, but it takes a greater toll on him. "At only sixteen, I was diagnosed with Polycythemia vera," he says. His voices reflects the emotions in which he refuses to let into the light. That one terrifying word is enough to break anyone, and in one simple breath, he continues. "Mom was heartbroken, and the doctors hooked me up to so many machines like I was some kind of freaky lab experiment."

"You're not a freak," I tell him.

His eyes water even more, allowing more tears to fall. Noah instantly wipes them away with his sleeve. "Do you know what PV is?" He asks, and shake my head. In truth, I know nothing about it, other than how it's a very rare type of blood cancer. "Well they called it a devastating misfortune. While most people who have it are diagnosed in their later years, I was lucky enough to be diagnosed before I even got to live," he explains. I can see the spiteful anger fortify in his eyes. "The red blood cells in my body were too thick, so they put me on blood thinners... which is why my mom took me out of school."