Chapter 5
When I walk inside the house, I’m greeted with the rambunctious banter between Ryder and Jayson as they hurl threats and one-liners at one another between sharp howls of laughter.
They must not have heard me come in, but then again, how could they with all the shouting.
I peek around the corner into the living room. Just as I suspected—Fortnite.
“You suck so bad, Ry! Sneaky asshole,” Jayson playfully chides as Ryder’s character ambushes his avatar. Ryder boisterously cackles—yes, cackles—while laying down a barrage of bullets.
Jayson reaches over with one hand while still manipulating his game controller with the other.
He makes a failed attempt to grab Ryder’s controller, hoping to distract him and mess him up.
Jayson blindly reaches over again, and a tug-of-war ensues, which leads to shoulder bumping, and escalates to all out Fortnite war.
As quietly and discreetly as I can, I remove my phone from my back pocket and snap a few dozen pictures with shaky hands.
I can’t get rid of the huge grin on my face because—well, I haven’t seen them like this in a long time.
Two years, actually. Ever since Jayson crawled through my bedroom window and kissed me for the first time. The kiss that changed everything.
I step forward to announce my presence, but immediately step back when Ryder says, “Jay, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
I press my back to the foyer wall, not wanting to eavesdrop, but also not able to stop myself from doing so. I can’t see them now, but I hear movement and the distinct sound of a plastic controller being placed down on the glass and wood coffee table.
“Okay,” Jayson replies, but I hear the hesitancy in his voice.
“If anything happens to me—”
Jayson interrupts. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Don’t even think that.”
“If it does,” Ryder continues. “I want you to promise me that you will take care of Elizabeth.”
“Of course, man. You don’t even have to ask that. It’s a given. But nothing’s going to happen, so she won’t need me because she’ll have you.”
“She’s always going to need you, Jay, regardless of whether I’m in the picture or not.”
Shuffling sounds like the whisper of fabric against fabric.
Jayson’s voice hardens. “Just stop. I’m not going to listen to you—”
“I’m asking the same thing of Fallon and Julien.”
“Fallon and I can barely tolerate each other.”
“But you will because you both love Elizabeth.”
“Christ, Ry.”
More shuffling sounds.
“I haven’t told Elizabeth yet, but I’m going to meet with Charles Worthington, Fallon’s dad’s personal attorney, next week. I want things in place before I start treatment.”
“Are you talking about a will? That’s morbid as hell, Ry, and not necessary because you are going to rock the chemo and the marrow transplant and be just fine. You’ll see,” Jayson says, choking up.
My throat constricts with emotion and my stomach churns violently. I press a hand to my abdomen, willing away the morning sickness that is threatening to come; my other hand covering my heart to stop it from breaking.
How can Ryder say these things? It sounds like he’s already giving up.
“I need to be realistic here,” Ryder argues. “I need to be prepared. I need…I’m so scared, Jay. I’m so damn scared. Why is this happening? Why me? Why—”
Ryder’s sudden sobs break me. I can’t listen anymore.
My stomach lurches and I rush past the archway of the living room, catching a brief glimpse of Jayson embracing Ryder as he cries.
When I get to the hallway, I sprint to my bedroom, arriving in my bathroom just in time as my stomach empties its contents into the toilet.
I flush and go to the sink to splash some cold water on my face and wash up.
Once I brush my teeth and swish some mouthwash, I quickly change into more comfortable clothes because throwing up makes me feel sweaty and gross.
And why do they call it morning sickness when you have it all freaking day?
I’m going to have to buy a pregnancy book or do some online research soon.
The doctor’s office should have pamphlets for me to read, right?
Not ready to head back to the living room as I want to give Ryder and Jayson the time they need together, I crawl on top of my bedcovers and grab the pillow Ryder sleeps on. Burying my face in it so I can smell him, I cry silent tears for the boy I love, feeling helpless and completely useless.
I allow myself a few minutes to wallow in my pity party for one, before getting off the bed.
I should be ashamed of myself. Ryder needs me.
Not the old version of Elizabeth who would wring her hands and let others take the wheel.
He needs the new me, the stronger Elizabeth I am now.
And New Elizabeth will fight this cancer with him.
Putting my game face on, which consists of the brightest, fakest smile I can possibly muster, I say, “Hey, you two,” as I walk around the corner like I just came through the kitchen from the garage.
Two handsome faces turn my way. Jayson with his metallic silver-gray eyes and mop of dark-brown hair. Ryder with his beautiful, golden copper eyes and artfully messy crop of brown-black locks that are longer at top. Both with beatific smiles on their faces when they look over at me.
“You’re back!” Jayson exclaims, his gaze settling on me with consideration as he looks for any sign of something wrong. I made sure to dab some concealer under my eyes before I came out of the bedroom. I have a feeling that he’s going to mother-hen me to death over the next eight or nine months.
Ryder opens his arms to me. “Was wondering where you got off to.”
“Hailey forgot her textbook, so I dropped it off at school,” I fib and sit down in the V of his lap, snuggling in. I’m ashamed of how good a liar I’m becoming; the nontruths spilling forth so easily now. “Have you eaten?”
“Bowl of cereal,” he replies.
“Since we’re all playing hooky today, what’s the plan?” Jayson sits back but his attention is still focused on me, his brow drawing down more and more as he watches me. I widen my green eyes at him, silently warning him to chill and stop acting so weird.
“Thank you again for sticking around, but don’t you want to get back to class?” I ask him.
“Nope.”
“But aren’t—”
“Nope,” he says again, popping that ‘p’ for emphasis.
Ryder kisses the side of my head. “I’ve always wanted to go to that obstacle course place in Raleigh.”
That actually sounds like fun. “You mean that place owned by that woman who does American Ninja Warrior?” The guys love that show.
“That’s the one.”
“I’m in,” Jayson says.
“Absolutely,” I agree, wanting to give Ryder whatever he wants. If he wanted to go skydiving, I would be the first to jump out of the plane with him.
And then it hits me as a plan starts to formulate, and the melancholy I was feeling moments ago, lessens. I’m going to make sure that every wish, every adventure, that Ryder has ever made or wanted comes true. And I know just the man who can help me make that happen. But first—
“Alright, IAmKingAwesome,” I tell Jayson, using his Fortnite moniker. “Let’s see if I can take you down before you destroy me.”
I pick up Ryder’s game controller and he reaches around me to place his hands over mine. It’s similar to how we sometimes play the piano together—my hands over his as I guide his fingers on the black and white keys.
Jayson protests when Ryder and I lock his avatar in a cell and our avatar breaks out in a celebratory victory dance. This game is actually fun. Go figure.