Chapter 27
Milow
Today was the last day before Thanksgiving break, and while I was excited to spend more time at home with my family again, I was even more excited about finally going to the doctor’s appointment Mom had set up for me.
School was nice today, and all the teachers seemed to be glad to get a week off.
For once, no homework was assigned, so everyone could actually enjoy the week-long break.
I knew I’d still end up doing a few worksheets on my own, though.
I liked keeping my brain active, even when I didn’t have to.
I was putting my books into my locker after my last period when Ashby came to stand next to me. He leaned against the locker beside mine in that casual way of his. He smiled, and my cheeks immediately flushed. As much as I loved him, there were moments I resented how effortlessly good he looked.
“Are Mom and Dad picking you up?” he asked, loosely crossing his arms over his chest.
I nodded, closing my locker before turning toward him. [Yes. They’ll be here in five minutes.]
“I’ll walk you out.” He pushed himself off the locker and nodded down the hallway.
I fell into step beside him as we started walking. [Are you coming to the doctor too?] I asked, keeping my body angled toward him while we moved.
“No,” he said. “I’m going to Dunst. Ruben’s free to come down, so Jasper and I are getting an extra training session in since he won’t be around next week.”
He’d had practice just yesterday. And on Wednesday. And Monday, too. He stayed so focused all the time, and even though he’d gotten better at managing his schedule, I still worried he might be pushing himself too hard again.
[Take it easy, okay?]
He grinned and gently nudged my shoulder with his. “Don’t worry about me, Milow. I’m fine.”
He’d said that before. And not long after, he’d broken down before that friendly swim meet a couple of weekends ago.
Wesley had told me about it later. I’d wanted to help, but I never brought it up.
Whatever Wesley had said to him must have helped, and if Ashby had already moved past it, I didn’t want to drag him back there again.
We headed outside toward the parking lot and stopped by the benches. He sat down, leaning back and sliding his hands into his hoodie’s pocket. When he looked up at me, he wore that lazy smile that always made my knees go weak.
“Sit,” he said, nodding to the space beside him.
I bit the inside of my cheek and studied the spot next to him before sitting down, wondering why something so small felt like such a big deal when we had sat next to each other plenty of times before.
I blamed it on how close we had gotten lately, and on this new thing that was slowly but steadily growing between us.
I couldn’t get too close to him in public without worrying that someone might figure out he had kissed me that night. Okay, there hadn’t been an actual kiss yet, but I was scared that wanting to kiss him was written all over my face.
“You’re tense,” he said, cutting through my thoughts.
I snapped my head toward him and pressed my lips together before giving a small shrug.
“Are you scared to go to the doctor?”
I shook my head and dropped my gaze to my hands resting in my lap. The urge to pick at my skin came instantly, but I stopped myself and tugged my sweatshirt’s sleeves over my hands instead. I didn’t want him to notice and worry.
“Then what is it?” he asked.
He looked calm. His body was loose against the bench, like nothing in the world weighed on him the way it did on me.
Students walked past us on their way to the parking lot.
A group of boys stood only a few feet away, messing around and shoving each other.
I wondered if any of them noticed how close we were sitting or how stiff my posture was, and whether they noticed that his knee was pressed against mine.
I dared to look at him again. [It’s nothing. I guess I’m just tired.]
He raised a thick brow. An amused spark flashed in his eyes. “Tired? You? I don’t buy that. You’re never tired after school. You’re literally the only person I know who goes home and immediately starts doing more schoolwork.”
I was proud of that. I’d always been. I never lost focus in school. Still, I hated how easily he saw through me. He knew I was lying. And even though he didn’t demand the truth, I couldn’t keep the thoughts from spilling out anyway.
[Aren’t you scared others will notice?]
My eyes flicked back to his. He tilted his head slightly. “Notice what?”
[Us.]
His brows pulled together, then his eyes widened a little when he understood what I meant. But he still didn’t look worried. “Why would I be?” he asked.
[Because we can’t—] I dropped my hands, then threw them into the air as frustration slipped through before I could stop it. [What if people figure out what we did?]
I was serious. My chest squeezed, and my thoughts were spinning, but he didn’t match my intensity. Instead, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smug grin. “I kind of like the idea of getting caught,” he said easily. “It’s not like anyone could make us stop feeling what we feel for each other.”
That made my heart slam so hard against my ribs that I felt it rise into my throat. He had just admitted his feelings. And he’d spoken mine out loud, too. I wanted to stay in that moment and keep talking about this, but I couldn’t. It felt too exposing right here in public.
He went quiet for a second, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice dropped as he spoke. “I get it,” he said. “I know this is fragile. But no matter what happens, or who says something, I’m staying by your side. My feelings won’t change.”
And that, somehow, scared me just as much as it comforted me.
[I don’t know if I’m ready to let this be public information.]
That got a chuckle out of him, and it instantly made me frown.
[What?]
“Public information?” he said, clearly amused. “You want to hold a press conference about it while we’re at it?”
I scrunched my nose and dropped my gaze back to my hands, feeling stupid for how serious I made it sound.
“I’m kidding,” he said, leaning in a bit closer. Just when he opened his mouth again, a car slowed down behind us.
I turned my head to see Mom and Dad inside, and I pushed up from the bench right away.
“Milow.”
I paused for a second and looked back at him, then kept walking toward the car.
“We’ll talk about this tonight, okay?” He said as he followed me.
I gave him a short nod as we stopped beside the car. He offered a tight smile and opened the door for me. “See you later.”
I waved and slid into the seat, pulling the door shut behind me.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Dad said, reaching back to give my thigh a quick squeeze. “How was school?”
[Good, thanks.] I smiled at him, then waved at Mom before she turned toward the window and rolled it down.
Ashby leaned in, resting his forearms on the open frame. “Hey. I’m headed to Dunst.”
“Training?” Mom asked. “Today?”
“Yeah. Just a quick session since Ruben’s not around next week. I’ll be home before dinner.”
“Okay.” Mom reached out and touched his arm.
“Take it easy, champ,” Dad added.
“I will. Bye.”
He tapped the door as he stepped back. The car started rolling, and I kept my eyes on him until he disappeared from view.
As much as I wanted this to be simple, like any other couple walking out of school together, touching without thinking about others judging, I wasn’t even sure that’s what this was.
I didn’t know if we were moving toward something serious or if I had read too much into all the stolen looks and quiet moments.
Maybe I had filled in the blanks because I wanted them filled.
I pressed my lips together and stared at my hands in my lap, trying to calm the thoughts spinning through my head.
I wanted clarity, but I didn’t know how to reach it without being vulnerable.
I would have to open up to him and be honest about what I felt, which, generally, wouldn’t be an issue.
But it meant risking rejection, and I had never thought I handled that well.
There was a new wallpaper in the waiting room at the doctor’s office.
It had a jungle theme, with trees and leaves layered over each other, and while it was probably meant to calm patients, it made me anxious to find every animal hidden behind the bushes before I got called in.
The longer I looked, the louder my thoughts became.
My head buzzed again. No matter how hard I tried, I could only ever truly slow my mind down when I went to sleep.
I had wondered if I had ADHD before, but I knew I didn’t.
Stan definitely had it. I secretly diagnosed him with it many years ago.
I pursed my lips and kept staring at the wall while Mom and Dad flipped through a magazine together.
They spoke in low voices, snickering softly as they pointed at something on the page.
My eyes snapped to them for a moment, and I smiled at the sight.
They always looked so happy, which, in return, made me happy.
My foot bounced against the tile.
This was supposed to be a normal appointment—a general checkup, nothing more. Yet the longer I sat there, the stranger the feeling in my chest became. As if some part of me already knew something was off, even if I couldn’t explain it—or knew that nothing was wrong.
When the nurse called my name, I pushed the feeling down and stood.
We followed her down the hallway, where she made me go through the usual routine.
Scale. Blood pressure. Height. All normal.
I’d grown a few inches and now stood at five-three.
It was a stupid thing to be proud of, but I was anyway.
She took a small blood sample from my finger, then smiled and told us to wait in the exam room.
I perched on the edge of the table while Mom and Dad sat in the chairs near the wall. Dad leaned back with his arms crossed, and they both looked calm.
The doctor finally came in with a clipboard and an easy smile. He greeted my parents first, then nodded at me. “Good to see you, Milow.”
I waved and watched him sit down at his desk. He looked at his computer screen for a moment, humming quietly to himself.
“I have your stats here, and everything looks good,” he said at last, then paused. “But…”
My stomach dropped.
But what? But something’s wrong. But there’s a problem. My thoughts jumped too fast, spiraling before he even continued. You have diabetes. You have cancer. You’re dying!
He glanced back at the screen, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You do have low iron levels.”
Gosh, he could’ve set that up differently.
I stared at him, unsure how to react.
“Do you eat meat, Milow?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Not a vegetarian?”
I shook my head.
“All right. That’s easy to fix,” he said. “Iron-rich foods can help raise your iron levels. Red meat. Spinach. Broccoli. All the good stuff.”
I smiled tightly and nodded again. Mom and Dad always cooked balanced meals, and I ate everything they cooked for us.
After checking a few more things on the screen, his gaze lingered on me. It shifted to my throat, and there was a question in his eyes. You’re still not talking. But he didn’t say it. He just watched me a moment longer before turning to my parents.
“Have you already discussed the surgery?” he asked.
I frowned.
The surgery?
I looked at Mom. Then Dad. Neither of them spoke. Their calm expressions cracked, panic flashing across their faces so fast it made my stomach twist.
Confusion rushed in hard. My hands lifted without me thinking, moving automatically as I searched for answers. Maybe he had mixed me up with another patient. Maybe he meant someone else.
[What surgery?]
Mom’s posture stiffened, and Dad cleared his throat. They weren’t looking at me.
“I think maybe this isn’t—” Dad started, but the doctor cut him off gently.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I assumed this had already been discussed. She’s going to be eighteen soon.”
Only in two years.
My hands hovered in my lap, frozen mid-thought, as one question drowned out all the others.
What surgery were they talking about?
What was wrong with me?
And why were Mom and Dad not looking at me?