Trust

✍ Swing

Dad reached the hospital about twenty minutes after Chase left. He was in one of his grey business suits I had a thing against. I never knew why; I figured it was because of the gaudy tie he always wore with it.

"Oh my," he said. "Poppy." He came over and hugged me. It was a little awkward; I was still sitting in the chair next to mum's bed and he was having to bend over, but I appreciated the gesture.

"Why did you wait so long to call me? I could've been here the moment she came in," dad said. He spoke quietly even though there was no explicit sign anywhere to tell him to do so. Mum was still under the heavy influence of pain-relief drugs so it was highly unlikely a conversation held at normal volume would wake her. I wanted to point that out to dad, but kept my mouth shut.

"You spent the whole night here yourself." Dad hovered over me. He looked worried.

I kept quiet. My eyes hurt from crying. I'd caught my reflection in a window earlier and realized how my cheeks had grown puffy overnight. My eyes were red and swollen and. They looked like they would fit better on a goldfish than on a human being.

Chase might be smart, but he's in dire need of a good pair of glasses, I thought. If he thinks that this is beautiful, he's as blind as poor Isaac was.

"C'mon kid, I'll give you a lift home."

"We can't leave mum here by herself," I said.

"I'll come back after I've dropped you off at home. I'll stay with her until she wakes up."

I looked at dad.

"I promise," dad said. I hesitated then stood up.

"You should take the day of school. You look like you'll need the rest." Dad touched my cheek. It vaguely occurred to me that Chase had kissed that same cheek. I looked away.

"I'm fine, dad," I said. I looked at mum. A pale ghost among the bleached white sheets.

"We'll fight this," dad said and his voice cracked. It occurred to me that dad still cared for mum, even after their disagreements. "I'll talk to the doctor about treatment options. I'll do everything I can. We'll fight this together and I promise you, Pops, she'll be alright. She's a fighter." He choked a little at the end. I saw him clench his jaw and look up at the ceiling. I'd seen that being done before. I did it when I told myself I didn't want to cry.

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from speaking. I felt sick. Dad meant well; I knew he did. I wasn't mad at him- not at him specifically. I was  just angry at the unfairness and unjustness of it all. It hurt to know that cancer was just another part of my mother now, as much as her kidneys and lungs were parts of her. I was angry because from now on, she would be fighting a civil war. I was afraid of the winner. I was terrified that I might lose her.

But I couldn't say any of that to dad because I knew it would hurt him. Enough people had been hurt already.

I nodded and mumbled, "Yeah."

*****

"What are you doing up so early?"

Adam pushed himself up off the sofa, wincing. "I couldn't sleep after your call." He pursed his lips. "How's mum?"

"Sick," I said.

"Well no shit, Sherlock," Adam deadpanned. He rubbed his eyes, moving his good arm. "C'mon Poppy. What happened to mum? She alright?"

My bottom lip trembled.

Don't cry.

"I- I don't know, Adam. She's got cancer. It's not some kind of stage one stuff- it's bad." Something caught in my throat and filled up my windpipe so that I couldn't speak so I whispered, "I'm so sorry, Adam."

I watched Adam's face grow white. He let out a string of swear words and cursed the world and humanity and life itself, and then collapsed onto the sofa.

"Tell me this is some kind of sick joke, Poppy." He had a desperate fear in his blue eyes.

I shook my head, focusing all of my attention on the mammoth task of not-letting-the-tears-fall-and-endinf-up-bawling-like-a-baby-again.

It was official. Senior year sucked.

*****

Despite what my dad had suggested, I went to school. I met March at our usual spot, and she talked endlessly about the upcoming summer dance. I was silent. I couldn't talk even if I had wanted to.

"Pops, have you been listening to me?" March elbowed me in the ribs. I nodded.

"Dress, makeup, blue, Forever 21, Burberry collection," I rattled off.

March frowned. "Are you okay?"

The words were on the tip of my tongue. Then, I swallowed and smiled. "Yeah."

I was lucky that the summer dance proved to be a distraction. March was so caught up in preparations for it that she didn't notice my alarmingly loud and increasing silence.

The bell rang, and we headed off in different directions- I to English and March to Geography. I had to admit, a small part of me wanted to see Chase again. Our last couple of encounters had left me… confused. Chase was an intelligent person, so every word he'd said to me would've come with a reason- reasons that I failed to understand.

Chase was already seated in the seat next to mine when I entered. We didn't make eye contact as I slid into my spot.

"Hi."

"Hi." I suddenly felt tired.

"How're you feeling?" Chase leaned closer.

"Grand."

He raised his eyebrows at me, and his nose crinkled a little. "I want to show you something."

"What?"

"You'll have to come with me after class to see it."

"Can't you show me now?" I was curious.

Chase smiled, a secretive small one that made my insides feel all warm and fuzzy and causing the irrational part of my brain that had not received any sleep all night to begin screaming about how cute he looked.

"No."

I glared at him, and his grey eyes danced as they returned my gaze. I ended up breaking the deadlock.

"How about a hint?" I suggested. I pulled out my books and pens.

"Remember when Gus went over to Hazel's house and they were talking on the swing set?"

I nodded and Chase turned away, his lips pursed, but turned upwards into a smile. Ms Sloan entered the room at that moment. The class fell silent, and work began.

Chase didn't say another word to me for the rest of the lesson.

Needless to say, I couldn't concentrate on anything Ms Sloan said with the prospect of a surprise hanging just tantalisingly out of reach and coming a tiny bit closer as each minute passed. When the bell rang for the next period, I grabbed Chase's shirt.

"What is it that you wanted to show me?" I was breathless.

He slid his hand over mine and held it gently. "Let's go."

We ducked into the hallways, pushing past students. No one seemed to take much notice of us as we left the school building and headed towards the fence. Chase let go of my hand then, and pushed past a couple of bushes. There was a gaping hole.

"Isn't this against the rules?"

Chase grinned. "Yes."

I took a step back. "Chase, we should go back to class."

"C'mon Poppy Sullivan, live a little." He held out his hand. His grey eyes twinkled.

I chewed my bottom lip. The sounds of students were rapidly fading as they entered their respective classes.

I took his hand.