Chapter 15
(Jackie's POV)
For the rest of the time they were visiting, it was really awkward. Everybody still talked to me, but not to each other. So they listened intently as I told them about how this happened, how I found out, how I'm dealing with it, etc.
They all hugged me before they left, and I was glad for they're company. There isn't a lot to do in a hospital bed when you're recovering from a surgery.
When Lily hugged me, she appologized and I forgave in the blink of an eye. I was sympathetic towards the situation, and I understood how she felt. People will probably be treating me like a baby, because of my cancer, bald head, wheelchair, and lack of right arm.
They left a few minutes ago, many of them leaving gifts that I have no desire for. I don't feel like I need to be rewarded for being sick and losing a limb.
Since they left I've been watching YouTube videos made by amputees on my phone. I'm about to click on a suggested video when Mom barges in.
"Honey," she says, her voice mellow. "We need to talk."
"About what?" I said, eyeing up her giant belly.
"Names."
I realize we haven't even decided a name for the baby. It's due in a month. I suddenly feel a pang of guilt. Mom's been spending so much time with me, and paying so much attention to me, we haven't put much thought toward my unborn sister.
"I want a name," Mom says. "That is unbelievably girly."
"How about Annabelle? Or Eliana?"
"No."
"Jessica? Angelina? How about Tessa?"
"I like Tessa. I just don't like how it feels to say that. Brittany, Jackie, and Tessa."
Mom scoots her chair up to my bed. "How about," she says. "Something with meaning? Something that's really special."
"What about..." I start.
"Sky."
I close my eyes and nod my head. I take Mom's hand and we sit peacefully. And without thinking, I feel myself slip away.
✈
A yellowish liquid is running through an IV into my right arm. Sleep pulls me under and I start drowning.
✈
My dress twirls and I spin with it. I run my fingers through my long wavy hair in disbelief. On my feet are elegant plants twisted into the form of sandals. Little flowers grow out of them.
I look down to the ground and and above to the sun. And someone holds my hand. And I'm flying upward. I'm riding on somebody's back.
I'm free. I'm flying.
✈
(Brittany's POV)
She flatlined. They shocked her. She wouldn't wake up. They thrusted their hands onto her stomach. And gave her CPR. But she wouldn't wake up.
I kiss her. And hug her. She won't wake up.
I sink down and put my head between my knees, rocking back and forth. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead.
The monitor beeps. Again. Again. Again. Her heart is beating. The nurses rush her over to an odd machine, which they hook her up to.
"What's that?" I practically scream.
"It's so she breaths, hun." Cel replies with tears in her eyes. "She can't do it alone now."
Mom enters and I sprint up to her. I jump into her arms, knocking her over.
✈
I crank up the volume on my MP3 and snuggle into the mountain of blankets on my bed. I try to tone out the world and let the lyrics carry me away from all this.
Extensive tests clarified that Jackie was cancer-free, but they found a deadly infection in her scar. And we might lose her. 80% chance of death. Just like how she had an 80% chance of cancer. And she wasn't so lucky that time.
I pick up my phone and type in the number. I have it memorized, because I've been pushed to the brink of calling it many times.
I tear my earbuds out and balance the phone between my right ear and right shoulder. And the tones on the other end remind me of Jackie's heartbeats slowly returning.
"Hello?" says a slightly high-pitched, muffled voice.
"Hey," I say meakly.
"Who is this?"
"From Starbucks," I mutter. There's a long pause.
"Oh, yeah! My usual costumer! I haven't seen you in a while! Where have you been?"
"Would you like to," I say slowly and unsurely. "Go out for dinner?"
"Tonight?"
"Yes. How about The Cheesecake Factory? At seven? I'll meet you at Starbucks?" I twist my mouth into kind-of-smile.
"That's perfect," I can almost imagine the smile on his face. "What time is it now? The clock broke in here!"
"Um, six-thirty." I realize that our date's in a half-hour and start breathing heavier.
"Well, I'm not exactly dressed up, if you're okay with that," he chuckles. "You don't really have to dress up yourself. I don't mind."
"Okay. See you then."
"Bye."
I hang up and fling my phone onto the bed, leaping to my closet and pulling out half the clothes. I decide on skinny jeans, beige wedges, and a sheer floral shirt. I pull my hair up into a messy bun and throw on a few rings. I confirm that I look approachable.
Even though Starbucks Boy will definitely look better than me.
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Fiksi Remaja(Under MAJOR editing: to pieces!) "I still feel my right arm sometimes, like it's a distant friend or something. I just know that from now on I'm that girl, the one that people tell their friends about and take pictures of. I just wish this whole ca...
