Evangelines Bucket List

Chapter 3: Sense of Home

I walk into the cafeteria slowly. She was still holding the paper. She looked up, folded it and placed it in her back pocket.

"You took too long so I came."

"Yeah sorry. I was wearing sleeping clothes."

"You know, you could say pajamas."

I just smirked. She got up and walked towards the cafeteria. She only grabbed a fruit cup. I made myself Frosted Flakes. I quickly followed her.

"So what's your name?" I asked awkwardly.

"Evangeline Iverson." She smiled, exposing her straight teeth.

"I like your name. It's different." I mumbled.

"What about you?"

"Beckett Hill."

"Well Beckett Hill, thank you for liking my name. Quite frankly, I do not like my name." She opened her fruit cup.

"Why not?"

"Well it sounds like an old lady name, don't you think?" She sarcastically smiled.

"I don't think it does."

She just smiled. She grabbed the plastic fork and punctured a piece of pineapple. I hadn't touched my cereal.

"So Beckett Hill, where are you from?" She broke the silence.

"Atlanta. Georgia. You?"

"London. England." She chuckled. I chuckled once I figured she mocked me.

"So, Evangeline?"

"Yes?" She took a bite of the pineapple on her plastic fork.

"What did you mean when you said you didn't know what cancer you had."

"Well, truthfully, I don't know. My skin was bruising quickly. I practically lived leaning over the loo. Basically, I almost died. When we came here, I was told I had cancer. Some incredibly rare cancer though. But they haven't quite exactly found out what it is. At first they assumed it was just stage three leukemia but they were very wrong. So to answer your question, I don't know what type of cancer I have." She smirked.

I had never met someone who did not know their type of cancer. Usually everyone does. I knew their was something different about Evangeline. But I just couldn't put my finger on it.

She takes out the paper. It was odd that it did not make a loud sound like paper usually does. She grabbed a pen from nowhere and scratches off something.

"What's that?"

"What?" She looked up at me.

"That. In your hands. What is it?"

"Oh. This silly thing. Funny story-"

"I like funny stories." I said monotonic.

"Well, it's a buh buh buh." She mumbled.

"What?"

"It's a bucket list."

"A bucket list?"

"Yes."

"Why do you have a bucket list?"

"Well Doctor Walsh already told me, my cancer was most likely fatal. I want to do things that I've always wanted to do."

"Oh. Like what?"

She handed me the folded paper. I opened it. It was a colorful bucket listed paper. Oddly, I did not see the colors shining through the back. The paper was numbered from one to thirty. The top said "Evangeline's Bucket List" written in black sharpie. It was surrounded with colorful dots. Each thing she wanted to do was written in a bright color. The only thing written in black pen was the numbers. That was it.

"Why is it so colorful?" I asked.

"Bucket lists are supposed to be fun. Why are you so dull?"

"I'm not used to colorful things."

"I see."

"Yeah." I folded the list and handed it back.

"You will be colorful. One day."

"Okay." I scoffed.

"I'm serious. This bucket list is like my sense of home. How you may ask? Well, I get to do things I've always wanted to. Remember this, you will be a colorful person when I am done with you, Beckett Hill." She smiled. She got up and walked away. Why was she so obsessed with me becoming a colorful person? Just why?