ORIGINAL:The Boy With A Touch Of Cancer(BxB)

1. Introducing Me, And My Crazy Family

A/N Ethan above: just in case you wanted to see his chocolate brown eyes, and adorably messy hair. Minus the English accent, unfortunately. 😧

"Kids, you better be down here in fifteen minutes, or we're going to be late!" Mom bellowed from downstairs.

"Just a second!" I yelled back before I brushed my teeth for the second time this morning, in an attempt to remove the taste of vomit from my mouth.

I woke up at about four o'clock this morning to throw up, and I've been in here since, hugging the toilet for about four hours now. And I was planning on not going to school today, but now that I feel somewhat okay--and not like complete crap--I decided I probably should go to school.

I spit out my toothpaste, thinking nothing of it, but I noticed that my usually white toothpaste was a mix of pale pink and rosy red. I looked up into the mirror and was horrified to see my top and bottom gums bright red. I slowly ran my tongue over my gums and tasted the metallic taste of blood, confirming that my gums were bleeding.

I stood there, just staring at my mouth for probably a minute straight before I finally snapped out of my stupor and rinsed my mouth out multiple times with water...or until I was satisfied all the blood was gone. After that, I took one last look at myself in the mirror.

My hair is a shade of brown-ish blonde that looks more like one or the other based on the lighting I'm standing under, and my skin is a ghostly white. My eyes are chocolate brown (nothing special there), and I'm taller than almost everyone in my family as I'm a little over six feet tall. I also wear a pretty casual style that consists mostly of jackets and plaid button-downs over t-shirts, ripped jeans, sneakers, and beanies.

I sighed, yanked my beanie on my head, and I trotted down the hall to the stairs.

As I headed downstairs I heard Mom yelling, yet again, "Ethan! Andrew! Get your asses down here!" She must mean business because she never calls Drew by his full name unless she's pissed or demanding that he do something.

I rounded the stairs and walked into the kitchen, a grin tugging at my lips. "Jesus, I'm right here."

Mom looked up from the sandwich she was making, her eyes filled with annoyance. "God, it took you long enough."

Rather than respond, I grinned fully and reached around her to grab a banana. I took my banana over to the table, taking a big bite of it as I plopped down in a chair. After quietly eating a few bites, I looked down at the banana in disgust. I felt my stomach heave, memories of this morning flooding my brain, and I abandoned my food on the table.

"Kylea Carter, come back here!" Dad yelled as I heard two pairs of feet pounding down the hall. My three-year-old sister Kylea--or as everyone calls her, Lea--scampered over and hid next to my chair, wearing only a pair of baby-sized stretchy jeans.

I looked up from Lea to Dad, and he stood there with Lea's black and red polka dot dress in his hands, exasperation written all over his face. "Lea, seriously?" Dad huffed.

I grinned at Dad and leaned over my chair to grab Lea. I gingerly clamped my arms around Lea's underarms and hauled her up into my lap, and she instantly burst into a fit of giggles.
After I Lea situated in my lap, I sent Dad a look that told him to finish dressing Lea, which Lea noticed, and she began to wriggle around in protest. "No! Down, Etan! Down!"

"Sit still, Lea. It's not that bad," I teased.

As Lea squirmed in my lap, Dad took his opportunity to put her dress on and button it up. Dad took an exasperated breath. "See, sweetheart? You look so pretty in your new dress."

"No, I hay"--her way of saying hate--"it." Lea folded her tiny arms over her chest. She scowled down at her dress indignantly, then she looked up at me with a look of pure betrayal. "You stink," she hissed at me and stuck her tongue out.

I returned the gesture, which made Lea giggle even though she clearly tried not to. "Oh, don't be so dramatic," I murmured to her and kissed her forehead.

Dad sent me a grateful smile and a helpless look before he went to help Mom in the kitchen, leaving me with the drama queen. For whatever reason, Lea is incredibly stubborn. When she doesn't want to do something she will do everything in her power to get her way. And believe me, she's had quite a few meltdowns in the past over little things that she shouldn't even care about--like now, and not wanting to wear her dress.

I glanced at my abandoned banana on the table, feeling bad for tricking Lea, and I and tore off a small piece of the banana. I smiled and held the chunk of banana out to Lea as a peace offering, and her eyes widened.

She snatched the chunk out of my hand and gave me a wide smile. I knew she would accept it as bananas are her favorite food. As Lea chewed her banana I got up and carried her over to her highchair. I sat her down in it and began tearing my half-eaten banana into tiny chunks, then I placed them in her food tray. She grinned widely at me and mumbled around a mouthful of food, "Tank you, Etan"

Translation: "Thank you, Ethan."

I smiled down at her. "Your welcome little sis." I placed a kiss on her tiny head and went back into the kitchen.

I threw my banana peel away as Mom said, "I thought you were eating that." She glanced from Lea to me with a raised brow.

"Uh, I'm not really hungry," I responded lamely. Mom stared at me skeptically for a few seconds before she shrugged it off and returned to packing lunches.

Thank God...

"Huh, I wonder why you're not hungry," my sixteen-year-old brother Drew drawled. He smirked at me and gave me a pointed look since he knew I was sick this morning.

Mom glanced at Drew curiously. "Why wouldn't he be hungry, Drew?"

"Well, he--"

"I, uh, got up earlier and ate a snack," I said, cutting Drew off before he told Mom about my lovely vomit fest this morning.

I sent a scowl at Drew, though it was pointless as he'd already grabbed his lunch bag and plopped down at the table, completely absorbed in his phone.

Mom scrutinized me for a few seconds, then opened her mouth to say something, but she got cut off by Dad announcing, "We have to go you guys or we'll all be late. Lunch, shoes, and out the door, now!"

Saved not by the bell, but by rush hour traffic.

Love you, and don't forget to love yourself, your life, other people, and your body.
-Jeanne