19. Emma
EMMA
This is it. My most dreaded nightmare is coming true. Exactly what I have worked so hard to avoid. Maybe I’m still sleeping. Maybe this is my subconscious playing tricks on me.
Especially because they both look so concerned. They wouldn’t be this concerned in real life. No, they’d probably take pictures and send them to everybody in school. For all I know, they did. There’s probably a photo of me with one of their dicks close to my mouth.
It would have to be them, too, wouldn’t it? They would have to be the ones to find me like this. Don’t they have anything better to do than haunt me? I’ve been completely naked in front of these two, but I’ve never felt more exposed than I do now.
And I’m trapped. I can’t even run away.
“What the hell is all this?” Easton cocks his head to the side, looking at the equipment, looking at me.
I can almost see the wheels turning in his head.
Pretty soon there’s going to be smoke coming out of his ears.
Did I break him? In my head, I can imagine Preston having to box him up and take him back to a store with the receipt.
He scowls at the tiny laugh that bursts out of me. “Oh, it’s funny that we give a shit?”
Actually, now that he mentions it… “No,” I decide, shaking my head slowly when reality comes back into the picture. “No, this isn’t funny.”
“What are you doing here? What is all this?” Preston’s voice is surprisingly soft and heavy with concern. “And no lies this time. We want the truth.”
“Because this is all kind of obvious,” Easton adds. “We want to hear it from you.”
Even now, even when I know I’m caught, it’s amazing how my gut instinct is to lie.
To just pretend there’s nothing unusual about this.
Like it’s something I can brush aside, no big deal.
Even now, when they see me sitting here hooked up to the machine, I’m desperate to cover it all up with a clumsy lie. “I… I mean…”
“Come on,” Easton urges. “It’s not a hard question. What are you doing here? Is this what it looks like?”
“What does it look like?” Jesus Christ, this is pathetic.
Stalling like this. I’m being so obvious about it, too.
It’s just that I’ve spent so much time being afraid of this moment, and now it’s here, and I don’t know what to do.
I look at them, and I hear the whispers of so many supposedly concerned friends who only wanted something to gossip about.
I see the pity from people who treated me like a cause instead of a person.
It never hurt before, but somehow it would hurt coming from them. Like the final, ultimate insult.
“Obviously, you think we’re stupid,” Preston mutters.
I’m not going to argue with that. “You’re really sick, aren’t you?
” When he pulls his chair closer, my heart drops.
It’s not a mean or cruel gesture, but for some reason, it brings frustrated tears to my eyes.
I blink them back fast and take a shaky breath.
Okay, they caught me. The longer I drag this out, the worse it’s going to be, so I might as well get it over with.
Besides, they have eyes. They can see what’s in front of them.
“Yes. All right? Yes. I’m sick. Congratulations, you cracked the code.” If anything, there’s freedom in the truth. I rest my head against the pillow behind it, sighing. “You know my secret now.”
“Sick, how? Is this…” Easton looks like he doesn’t want to say it. His eyebrows pull together in a thick line and his throat works before I can’t take it anymore and have to say it.
“Chemotherapy.” The word lands like lead. “I come here twice a week for chemo.”
“So that’s what it is.” Preston’s jaw tightens, and Easton’s shoulders slump, and if I didn’t know better, I would think they really feel sorry for me.
Like it actually matters what I’m going through.
I know that’s not true—I’m a toy for them.
Something to keep them occupied since they’re so bored with their lives.
“That’s what it is,” I whisper.
“The wig. Fuck.” Preston lowers his head into his hands. “So fucking stupid. I should have guessed.”
“But what kind of cancer?” Easton sits on my other side in one of the chairs that would usually be used if there was somebody else getting an infusion at the same time as me.
Here I am, usually alone through all of this, and now I’ve got more company than I know what to do with.
And I’m trapped, which makes it funny in a sad, depressing kind of way.
“Leukemia. That’s why I moved here. There were better treatment options than what I had back home.”
“So that’s why you were sick. That’s why you were throwing up that night.” It’s Easton’s turn to look miserable, like he’s mad at himself. “It’s so obvious now.”
“Yeah, now you know,” I reply. “But the whole point was for you to not know. I didn’t want anyone to find out.”
I don’t know if I want to laugh or cry when they hit me with the same confused expression. Like they really don’t get it. “But why?” Preston asks. “Are you embarrassed or something? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I know that.” When he arches an eyebrow, I can only shrug. “You have to go through something like this to understand. The two of you… You’ve got it all figured out. I mean, everything seems so easy for you.”
“It’s not, but go on,” Preston grits out.
“I wish somebody would let me know when life gets easy,” Easton mutters. Big surprise, they’re both focusing on the wrong thing.
“Have you ever felt like a complete burden?” I take a second to pause after the question because I really want them to think about it.
“Did you lose both your parents out of nowhere? Were you diagnosed with cancer just before your 18th birthday? Did you have to move to a new place where you didn’t know anybody? ”
“Okay, okay,” Preston murmurs, looking at Easton. “I think we get it.”
Dammit. This is exactly what I didn’t want!
I mean, yeah, have there been moments when I wished like hell I could rub their noses in it?
Wouldn’t they feel terrible for using me if they knew what’s really happening in my life?
I wish I could enjoy it now, but all I see when they look at me is pity.
Exactly what I never wanted to see again from anybody. I’ve had enough of it.
“Don’t feel sorry for me.” My voice is firm, maybe a little louder than it needs to be, but I need them to hear me. “I’m going to be fine. The doctors are really hopeful. Don’t go picking out your funeral outfits or anything.”
Easton winces. “That’s pretty dark. And if I’m saying that, you know it’s true.”
“I guess I’m in a pretty dark mood. Maybe it has to do with…” I wave a hand toward the tubes attached to the port in my arm.
“Does that hurt?” Preston nods toward it, frowning.
I shake my head. “Nope. I don’t really feel it at all. That’s why I wear the sleeve on my arm, to keep everything in one place. If I got one of the ports caught on something, then yes, it would probably hurt, and I would have to have the line reinserted, and I don’t want that.”
“This is the big secret you were trying to keep?” Easton sounds seriously confused. “Why didn’t you just tell people the truth?”
“Do you know what it’s like to walk around knowing everybody sees you as a ghost?
Like they’re surprised to even see you at all?
All it took was one person overhearing I was sick, and all of a sudden, I was everybody’s charity case.
Poor, poor Emma.” Just thinking about it makes my heart beat faster.
“It was bad enough when my parents died. Everybody already knew about that. They already treated me different. Then they found out I had cancer, and it was like, what a tragedy. Let’s stare at her everywhere she goes. ”
“People can be weird about stuff like that.” Preston runs a hand over the back of his neck and grimaces. “When they don’t know what else to say, you know? It gets awkward.”
“I just don’t want anybody to treat me differently. I want to be like a normal person. And I can’t believe I’m admitting all of this to you,” I add with a laugh at myself.
Preston’s not laughing. “Yeah, but it’s too late for that.” It’s kind of surprising how seriously they’re both taking this. No joking now. “You were seriously so worried about us finding out? Did you think we would make a joke out of it and tell everybody in school?”
Is he serious? “Yes, actually. That’s exactly what I was afraid would happen.
And it’s not like you guys have done much of anything to make me think otherwise.
” I can’t help but stare them down, almost daring them without words to tell me I’m wrong or I’m being unfair.
I have got more than enough ammo to fire back at them.
Plenty of examples of how cruel and thoughtless they’ve been.
Easton surprises me by not insulting my intelligence. “Yeah, we’ve done some things, but?—”
“You had your reasons?” I ask, scoffing.
“Right. I’ve heard that before. That is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, because you always have your reasons.
But you don’t think about what it does to other people.
” Just saying the words makes me shake with anger and the feeling that I have been misunderstood for so long.
“And I really, really need you guys to hear me and understand why it is so important to keep this quiet.”
It’s Easton who gets that look in his eye first, and a sick feeling takes root in my stomach. I should’ve known better. “It’s worth that much?”
“No, I’m lying. Yes, of course it’s worth that much. Is everything a joke with you two? Do you know how much it took for me to admit all of this?”
“Okay, listen.” I wouldn’t expect Preston to be the voice of reason who diffuses the situation, but it seems like this is a night for surprises.
“Do you want us to treat you like you’re some fragile thing?
Or do you want us to keep treating you the way we have been, like you’re a normal person?
That’s the real question,” he adds. “Not a threat or anything. Because we can be gentle and, like, put on kid gloves or whatever they call it. If that’s what you want. ”
The idea makes my stomach hurt. “That’s exactly what I don’t want, but it doesn’t mean I’m fine with you guys acting like I’m a joke. Or like you can treat me like I’m a toy to play with. This might be a joke for you, but it isn’t from where I’m sitting.”
“That’s fair. We can be nice,” Preston assures me.
“But?” I ask. “What’s the catch?”
“Why does there have to be a catch?”
Right. Because I was born yesterday. “There’s always a catch with you two. When the doctor pulled you out of your mom, you probably asked what was in it for you when they wanted you to cry.”
Easton snorts first, followed by Preston. “You’re probably right,” Easton admits, chuckling. “But life is a transaction. Don’t you know that? Quid pro quo.”
“Believe me. I already know.” And somehow, I always end up losing out in the end. Losing my parents, my grandpa, my health.
“And if we were super nice to you, wouldn’t it seem like we were treating you differently because you’re sick?” Easton shrugs. “When I think about it that way, you should be thanking us. We’re treating you like we always did. You’re welcome.”
I shouldn’t laugh. I really shouldn’t. It will only encourage them to be idiots.
But I can’t help it—deep inside, it feels good to have the truth out there.
They didn’t run away, they’re not looking at me funny.
Like I’m contagious or like they’re afraid I’m going to drop dead.
I might even be slightly grateful to them for taking the news so well.
“We’ll figure out a way for you to repay us,” Preston tells me with a grin. I have no doubt.
But I won’t even care as long as they keep their word. “You have to promise. Both of you. On your sister’s life, even. It’s that important. I don’t want anybody’s pity. I don’t want to be different.”
Silence stretches out for what feels like forever, until my skin starts to crawl, and I wonder if I made the biggest mistake of my life. What was I thinking, opening up to them? Then again, what choice did I have?
An entire conversation takes place between them before either says a word. It’s Easton who breaks the silence. “Fine. You have our word.”
“Your secret’s safe,” Preston agrees. “And, uh, we’ll drive you home after this.”
“I don’t need to be driven.” Even if it is sort of nice for him to worry. “So long as I get there soon after treatment, I’m fine. But thanks.”
Why do they both look unconvinced? Easton doesn’t keep me waiting before explaining. “Yeah, well… we sort of had your car towed out of the parking lot. So you need a ride.”
“You… what?” Just when I was starting to think they could be decent humans. Don’t I know better by now?
“You’ll have it back by morning. Scout’s honor.” Preston traces an X over his heart. “It’ll be parked in front of your house. Though you should log in from home, anyway.”
“I’ll do what I think is best.” Like that matters right now. “Why would you have my car towed?”
“That’s all in the past,” Easton insists.
“It’s right this minute,” I argue—but my energy is too low to bother pushing the issue. “Whatever. Could you maybe not do that kind of stuff anymore?”
Preston smirks at his brother, jerking a thumb at me. “First she wants us to keep her secrets, then she decides we’re not allowed to have fun anymore.” They banter back and forth, joking to make me laugh. And they do, once I let myself relax a little.
Not that it’s easy to relax. I really, really need them to live up to the trust I’m putting in them.
Because as much damage as they’ve done up to now, it could get so much worse if they decide to betray me.