47. Zoey
47
Zoey
W ell, this is shit.
I stare up through the gates of hell—East View High—and suddenly I don’t feel so brave. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking about coming back here. Maybe I was seeking some semblance of normalcy during these few recovery weeks, but I clearly wasn’t thinking straight. Perhaps the leukemia has spread to my brain and is screwing with my thought process.
Crap. That was dark, even for me. I shouldn’t joke like that.
I’ve already missed almost two months of school and am drastically behind in all my classes, though not a single teacher has pushed me to hand in schoolwork. At this point, I think it’s safe to say I won’t be graduating. It’s not like my attendance is going to get any better over the next few months when I’m in and out of the treatment center. But I figured, why not try and experience life like a normal teenager before it’s all stripped away again? Sitting in my room day in and day out, recovering from my first round of chemo, is doing my head in. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been more than occupied with the story I’m writing on my laptop, but it doesn’t keep me from going stir-crazy.
The football season finished a few weeks ago, and without Noah’s crazy training schedule, he’s been able to spend more time with me, taking his classes online and only going in for exams, which seem to be all the time. I can’t complain though, I’ll take him any way I can get him. I’m just grateful his campus is so close. If he’d taken any other offer for college, this would be so much harder.
There’s only a week before Christmas and New Year’s break, then I’ll be starting my second round of chemo straight away. And God, it makes me anxious. I know what to expect, how it’s going to make me want to claw the flesh right off my body, how my insides are going to tremble as the drugs are slowly forced through my veins. All I can hope for is that I have the mental strength to keep pushing through it.
But if this doesn’t work . . . shit. I can’t allow myself to go there.
It has to work. There’s no other choice. This is my final shot.
I know Dr. Sanchez said there’s a plan B, that I have other options if the second round of chemo fails, but at the rate the leukemia cells are spreading through my body and how quickly I’ve been declining, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I won’t have the strength to keep fighting. Especially considering how weak I’ll be following the chemo.
Like I said, I have no other choice. This has to work.
My phone chimes in my hand, and I glance down as I wait for Hope, too chicken to walk through the gates by myself.
Resident Asshole: You good? Just got back to campus.
Zoey: I think I’ve finally lost my mind!
I hit send before holding my phone up and taking a photo of the school gates, letting him know my plans for the day. I quickly attach that to a new text and wait for his onslaught to follow.
Zoey: *Multimedia Message*
Resident Asshole: What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you want to torture yourself like that? No one expects you to be there.
Zoey: I was listening to hardcore rap from the early 2000s and something just came over me, and I remembered that I’m actually a terrifying badass and none of these preppy bitches can touch me.
Resident Asshole: Zo—I say this from the very bottom of my heart—you’re the furthest thing from being a terrifying badass. You’re a good girl with a kind heart that shatters like flimsy glass the second someone even looks at you wrong.
Zoey: *Middle finger emoji*
Zoey: I can handle this. It’s just school.
Resident Asshole: School is torture.
Resident Asshole: I want a list of names of anyone who even tries to get at you.
Zoey: So you can beat up a bunch of high school kids?
Resident Asshole: Damn straight. It’ll give me a chance to let off some steam.
Zoey: I know a way you can let off a little steam. Though I can guarantee it’s going to get you all kinds of worked up first.
Resident Asshole: Don’t fucking tempt me, Zo.
Zoey: Go and learn some smart people shit. I have a school to dominate.
I grin to myself, picturing the way he would be rolling his eyes and typing out a million different responses before deleting them all. He knows damn well I’m screwing with him. I have absolutely no intention of trying to dominate this school. What’s the point? It’s not like I’ll be spending much more time here. My only goal is to make it through the day and hand in a few of the assignments I’ve managed to get through over the past few weeks.
“Well, well,” I hear Hope saying from behind me. “Look who decided to show up.”
A stupid grin stretches across my face as she steps into my side, trying to be discreet in the way she takes my bag off my shoulder and slips her arm through mine. To anyone else, it looks as innocent as two girls walking arm in arm, but I see it for what it is—offering me a crutch if I need her.
“I figured I hadn’t endured enough torture, so why not add a little more by coming to school?”
“Not gonna lie,” Hope says. “When I read your text this morning, I thought maybe you’d fallen and bumped your head. No one voluntarily goes to school, especially when they’ve already been given the choice to complete their schooling from the comfort of their own bed.”
“I know,” I say with a heavy sigh as we make our way through the gates of East View High. “Do you think anyone knows?”
“Nah, no way,” she says, pausing to find her phone when a text comes through. “They would have bombarded me with questions if they had even an inkling about why you’ve been away. Though, I can’t guarantee the teachers aren’t going to give it away. I think your mom might have mentioned that I know because they’ve been giving me weird looks lately, and I know they’re just dying to ask me how you’re doing.”
“Great,” I mutter to myself as she checks her phone. “That’s exactly what I need.”
Hope barks an unladylike laugh before shoving her phone toward me. “Your bodyguard is coming for me if you have a bad day.”
“Huh?” I grunt, taking her phone and grinning like an idiot as I read over her latest text.
Zoey’s Douche Canoe Boyfriend: Watch her like a fucking hawk.
“Really?” I laugh. “Zoey’s douche canoe boyfriend?”
“What?” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “He forced me to add his number to my phone right after we got high in the park. Personally, I think it suits him perfectly, but just so you know, next time we smoke a joint, we’re hotboxing his car.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “Do I even want to know what that means?”
“Oh, my sweet little innocent child,” she says, looping her arm back through mine. “Just imagine all the fun-tastic ways I could corrupt you.”
We make our way inside, and I find myself discreetly watching the people around me, making sure there are no lingering eyes filled with pity. Realizing that Hope is right, and my secret is safe, I let out a relieved sigh and find my way to my locker.
“Miss James.”
Ah, shit.
I turn and plaster a smile across my face as I find Principal Daniels creeping in beside me, practically radiating pity.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, indeed,” he says, his gaze shifting to Hope over my shoulder. “I, uh . . . just wanted to welcome you back. I wasn’t expecting to see you roaming around the halls quite so soon.”
“Thank you,” I say, appreciating how he’s being a shitload more discreet than Hope is. “I hope that’s okay. I know my teachers have been putting a lot of effort into offering my classes online, but I’m going a little crazy at home and thought I could use a change.”
“Of course,” he says. “You’re always welcome here. However, I take it that means you’re feeling much better?”
My gaze falls away, a heaviness resting on my chest. “I, um . . . no. I’m not.”
“I see,” he says with a nod before letting out a heavy breath, clearly understanding that my treatments haven’t worked.
“I’ll be going in for another round just after New Year’s.”
“Another few months, I take it?”
I press my lips into a hard line, hoping he can’t see the fear in my eyes that appears every time the topic of my second round of chemo is brought up. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry it hasn’t gone as planned, Zoey,” he tells me with the utmost sincerity. “If there’s anything you need, just let me know. There’s absolutely no pressure, and I’m sure if you need extra time on your schoolwork, your teachers will be happy to allow extensions until you’re feeling better. We could definitely work something out to ensure you still graduate with the rest of your classmates.”
“Thank you,” I say, not bothering to tell him that the likelihood of me graduating in the spring is slim to none.
“Alright, I’ll leave you to it,” he tells me. “You know where the nurse’s office is if you need some time to recoup or just a little peace from the madness. And I’ll be sure to let the faculty know that you’re here today.”
Principal Daniels gives me a tight smile before continuing down the hall, and the second he’s far enough away, I turn back to Hope and let out a heavy breath.
“Well, shit. If I knew being sick was the way to go about getting extensions on my assignments, I would have faked appendicitis for my history paper last week,” Hope teases before looping her arm through mine just as the bell sounds for homeroom. “Come on. Let’s get you to class before everyone else starts moving around so you don’t get trampled.”
I give her a tight, grateful smile and allow her to pull me through the halls, only as I look up to see through the crowded bodies, I almost run right into Tarni.
I come to a startled stop and quickly back up a step as Hope pulls me around her, and as I glance back over my shoulder at the girl I grew up with, the girl who once held my hand through these very same treatments, I see nothing but a stranger.
Her eyes linger on mine with vile hatred, and it cuts me right to the core, just as Noah knew it would. I really am the furthest thing from a terrifying badass. I’m a good girl who shatters like glass, but the thing about glass is with the right amount of heat, I can mold myself back together. And Noah, he’s all the heat I’ll ever need.
Turning my gaze away, I continue down the hallway, putting Tarni to the back of my mind. She’s the last thing I need to focus on right now. And with that, Hope walks me straight into homeroom, lays my books down on my desk, and promises to meet me right back here to walk me to my first class of the day. As she leaves, I can’t help but smile at her retreating form. She’s reminded me what it truly means to have an amazing friend who will always have my back.