Blake and Aimee

Chapter 6: Blake

Gym. The one thing I hate more than history or chemistry or poetic bullshit. Mainly because it reminds me of what I used to be like, before the cancer. True I still was never the athletic type but I played football with my mates, used to ride bikes out to each other's houses while our parents were working. In general, I just had more energy. These days, a couple of minutes on the field and I'm out cold. Unless I have an adrenaline rush like I did yesterday, but they don't come often, which quite frankly is probably for the best. Then there is the issue with locker rooms, all those buff jocks gawking at me; it's one thing in class when they are confined behind a desk, but a completely different matter when they are hot and sweaty and half naked with big muscles- while I resemble an albino chicken leg. Not to mention the lacking in hair, like, anywhere. Thanks cancer.

Alright. This is the worst. The absolute worst. I got put into a team full of jocks; including Kevin and Andrew from English along with their friend Brian (who is absolute monster I'm telling you he's like over six-foot-tall and built as a brick house). On the court for two minutes, two minutes! I swear, we were playing basketball and a ball from another came flying at my head. God it is throbbing like something chronic. And the ice ain't doing jack for it. I glance over and find Aimee in a group of girls playing netball, she's on the wing defence. The referee must have called change over because she started heading for her bench when she looked over at me and winced. I half-heartedly smile as she runs over.

"God Blake what the hell happened?"

"Got smashed in the face with a basketball from the other team, my head fucking hurts."

"Oh god that is brutal, can I get you anything?"

"Nah it's alright, I've got strong meds at home I can take- that'll ease the pain in sure." I was meant to be a sort of joke to lighten the mood but she extremely concerned. "Aimee I'm fine honest, just a bit of headache alright? I'm all good."

"Ok well, I'm going to sit here regardless- Mr Heston! Yeah I'm just going to sit here for a while- "

"Aimee really stop its fine!"

"To make sure he's ok! Shh you it gives me an excuse not to do gym." She winks sideways at me. I admit it, I hate people who fuss- but I honestly would take any opportunity to talk to her, there is just something about talking to her that makes me feel... normal. Like I'm not just some kid with cancer who probably isn't going to live to see the next ten years, but just a person- like any other.

"So hey, I was thinking before, my friends and I attend a book club meeting on Thursdays would you be interested?" before I got the chance to speck she opened her mouth again, "I know I've only known you for like two days but these guys are really nice, complete utter weirdos with a sick sense of humour but nice all the same, you know, if you wanted any more friends."

"Yeah, I mean- yeah but you see I, well I don't really read much. My focus and energy levels tend to be very limited; so, after school work is done I tend to just listen to music and play video games."

"Ha-ha right sorry forgot to mention- the book club meeting doesn't really require reading books, we can't talk about books, or any topic that has varying opinions, regularly because we all start an argument." I crack up laughing at that point, "I know, I know, trust me I learned the hard way. Basically, we all just met up one time and got talking, and we just happened to be at a library."

"Sounds fun, but I'd hate to intrude." The last thing I want is to be gawked at by all her friends after all.

"Oh, don't be stupid of course it would be fine, trust me. But, well, up to you if you want to come or not but I think I'd be nice if you came." She's leaned in real close now, her blond hair brushing against my shoulder, maybe I should go. I mean, I was wrong about Aimee wasn't I (though I do hate to admit), maybe these guys are just like her. Ok, she's sold me.

"Alright then, when and where?"

"Oh, you'll come! Ok it's at the local library, it's about three and a half blocks from here I think? On Parkville avenue, 5.30-7." She's quite excited geez, she looks like she might burst.

"Oh yeah, yeah I know where that is... Oh wait, no, no I can't go sorry." Her face dropped, quite literally dropped, she almost looks disappointed as she stares at the bench space between us.

"How come?"

"It's just that my parents work late those nights and I'm not medically qualified to be able to learn to drive so I'm grounded at home when they aren't around." She looks up, her grey eyes staring right into mine.

"What if I pick you up? I can drive, I got my own car and everything, passed all my tests... would that be ok?" Or at least they seem grey at first. But rather the are more a mixture of blue and green with specks of amber. All swirled together so that from a distance it all blends to one tone of grey. It caught me off guard, very off guard.

"Ah, right yeah, yeah that- that's sounds good." She peels herself away and crosses her legs on the bench.

"Great, ok, pick you up at 5 then?" Yeah that should work right? Oh except for one thing...

"I don't know my address off the top of my head, I could write it down and give it to you tomorrow?" She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pen and a small notepad, why does she have a notepad in her pocket? That's seems so odd, especially for gym class.

"Or I could give you my number and you could text it to me? Or is that too," She runs her head and raises her eyebrow at me and smirks, "presumptuous." Ha-ha.

"Well look who is copying my technique hey, the note passing was my idea thank you very much." How is that yesterday I thought this girl was an absolute snob, this morning I passed her an "I'm sorry" desperation note, and only a couple of hours later were joking about it like it was years ago?

"Right yup," her chuckling is making it hard for her to write, she keeps stopping after every few numbers and draws over them to make them look neater, "I'll keep it in mind then." She puts the note directly into my hand. The bell rings, thank god I get to go home I'm not sitting through this headache one moment longer. "Anyway, you better go home, you head is bruising up badly, I'll see you tomorrow." She walks off to the girls' lockers while I veer off to the boys', rather quickly to beat the testosterone rush hour. I quickly change and grab my bag to head out the door when I happen to pass a mirror. Fuck. Not only is my head bald, but three quarters of it is now covered in various tones of black, blue, and purple.