❛in which one boy is done with life and the other isn't.❜
Maven Sullivan didn't want this. He didn't want any of this, really, but that didn't matter. Because it was already done. He had already got what he didn't want: a chance at a longer life. A...
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"trust the timing of your life."
- - -
"MAVEN, WE'RE GONNA HAVE TO TALK about it sometime. You can't ignore it," Nicole Sullivan said, standing at the foot of her son's bed with her arms crossed.
Maven groaned, sliding the pillow off of his face and throwing it at the light switch. He missed, and the pillow pathetically landed in the hall. "Watch me," he said, voice hoarse.
She rolled her eyes, pushing him to the side and sitting beside him. She brushed his hair out of his face, smiling down in him. "It's okay to be scared, darling," she said, "Just know that your brother and I are here for you, no matter what."
He bit his lip, looking away. He wasn't scared; he would stick by that statement. No, Maven was annoyed. He was annoyed that every one was pitying him, giving him odd looks when they saw him in public. Maven didn't want to be known as anything different than he already was - the smart, cool, star runner on the track team. The guy that could win any sprint and run for miles.
Of course, there was no way that would last. He wasn't even allowed to run anymore; he couldn't do the one thing he loved.
"I'm not scared," he muttered, looking at his mom. She shook her head, patting his head and standing up.
"Then prove it," she said, "Get out of your bed, go to school. Socialize or something! You've been in here for five days already, Maven. I'm not letting that slide for much longer, alright?"
He nodded in response. She didn't understand that there wasn't a way to prove it. No matter what he did, how acted, where he went, people were still going to pity him. They were going to say the same thing that dozens of other people had said already: I'm sorry. Maven didn't want their sorry's, he didn't want their pity.
"You've got an hour to get ready and drive your brother to school. I'm heading to work now," she said, walking out of his room. She paused, looking at him again, "Try to have a good day, honey. I love you."
As she left, Maven hollered, "I love you too, Mom." He threw the blankets off of himself, heading to the bathroom for a quick shower.
It didn't take him too long to get ready. He showered, scrunched products in his hair and diffused it, and threw clothes on. He jogged downstairs and into the kitchen, opening the fridge to scan it's contents. Settling on cereal, he grabbed the box of Cheerios from the cupboard and shuddered as he grabbed the almond milk.
As he quietly ate his bowl of cereal, his little brother ran down the stairs.
"Wow, finally out of bed," Jaxton said smartly, "Impressive."
As he walked by, Maven punched his shoulder lightly. "Shut up," he said, watching his brother pop a piece of bread into the toaster. Maven pulled his phone out of his pocket, opening the Messenger app.
| to ARIA 7:57 a.m. picking u up 2day
He placed his phone onto the counter, tilting the bowl and drinking the rest of the milk. Jaxton rolled his eyes, "You have a milk mustache, dummy." Maven stuck out his tongue, wiping his mouth off with a rag and placing the bowl in the sink. His phone dinged, and he quickly looked at it as he opened his backpack.
| from ARIA 7:58 a.m. aight
He smiled at her response, missing the girl he had been best friends for his whole life. He had briefly talked to her the other day, him explaining his predicament to her. He knew she was crying when he heard her sniff; he hung up immediately after. Maven hadn't wanted to hear her cry over him. Now that he was about to see her, he very much regret that decision.
He stuffed his binder into the bag, quickly zipping it up and throwing it over his shoulder.
"Ready, Jax?" he asked. The boy nodded, stuffing the rest of his toast into his mouth and running to grab his bag. Maven made his way to the garage, grabbing his keys and holding the door open for Jax. They both piled into the car, Jax climbing into the back seat. Maven turned on the radio, listening to the weather forecast as he reversed out of the driveway.
Both brothers were silent as they drove through the streets towards Aria's house. Finally, Maven pulled to a stop in front of the cozy little home. They waited for a few moments before the door to her house flew open. Aria ran out of it, caring a bag in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. As she ran, it sloshed out of the mug and onto her driveway. Maven rolled his eyes at her.
She opened the car door, climbing in with heavy breathes.
"Sorry, guys," she panted, "Slept in a bit."
Jax smiled at her, shrugging it off, "It's alright." He had always had a small crush on Aria. It was adorable yet gross and weird at the same time.
Before Maven knew it, he was pulling up to Forks Middle School and bidding Jax a good day. The school was close to their house; Jax could be walking every day, but Maven didn't mind driving him. Plus, it was usually rainy and cold outside. He didn't need his brother getting sick every week.
"So," Aria started, looking over at him, "Are we gonna talk about it?"
Maven shrugged, "About what?"
"You know what I'm talking about, Maven."
He did. However, he didn't want to talk about it. Maven ignored her, staring up at the red stoplight and pressing down on the gas when it flashed green. "No, I don't, Aria."
He pulled into the Forks High School Parking Lot, driving towards his usual spot by the forest. Maven always parked there; not because he liked the long walk to the school, but because he sucked at parking.
"How about the fact that you have cancer?" she asked. Maven was silent, frozen in his seat, "About how you ran away from the hospital? The only reason you're not dead on the side of the road is Emmett Cullen. Let's talk about that, Maven. And also about how you hung up on me. Talk about rude."
Maven could tell she was angry; he could hear it in the way she spoke, the way she breathed. He could feel his emotions matching hers, his blood boiling as he thought of his newfound disease. That stupid plague he now had, following him every where he went. He couldn't even talk to his best friend without it coming up.
"Drop it, Aria, okay?" he snapped, "I'm fine now, I'll be fine tomorrow and forever. It's not a big deal. It's being handled." With that, he opened his door and hopped onto the pavement, landing in a muddy puddle. He slammed the car door shut, stomping through the puddle towards the English building.
He didn't want to talk about it, and he wasn't going to.
WORDS: 1245
STATUS: edited
NOTES: none of the medical information depicted in this story is going to be 100% accurate. I am NOT a doctor; don't use the information in here to diagnose yourself, please.
