A few words...

That's a blog I made to post my stories and anything else I feel like posting! (Which means you might actually come across pictures of something I managed to cook instead of burning, or some joke I found particularly funny... Don't worry if you do, I didn't go mental. Maybe because I already sort of am!)


Take a look around, check out my stories, picking the category you like best and leave me your thoughts! Even a teeny tiny comment counts! Although I really like long comments!

I wanted to thank my wonderful beta, Wendy D, for putting up with me and editing my Twilight fan fics and original stories and for her support! I also wanna leave some love for some co-writers, readers and friends who always manage to distract me by chatting while I'm writing and I just love them for that! So, Lucia, Kenzie, Alexandria and Chloe, I love ya all tons!

Nessie

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Keep Cheating ~ A It Happened One Summer One-Shot

Synopsis: Evan and Maya have known each other since they were 7. They'd made a promise, and they've been fighting cancer together ever since. But there was one, memorable summer when everything changed.

KEEP CHEATING

I suppose you’d like to know how it happened. Let’s start from the beginning. Nine years ago.

“Evan, I decided something,” Maya announced.

“Hmmm?” I mumbled, watching the orange clouds, imagining shapes and creatures floating on the sky.

“We should make a promise,” Maya started, looking at the setting sun.

I remember looking at her, confused. I pushed with my toes against the roof tiles and climbed higher, where Maya was sitting. “What sort of promise?”

“That we will keep fighting. We will come here every summer and we will find each other forever and ever and ever!”

Without a second thought, I said, “I promise.”

“I promise too.” Maya nodded. “And we will always be friends, right?”

“Right!”

We grinned at each other and Maya placed her hand on top of mine. I had blushed violet, but Maya hadn’t noticed at the time. She was already lost in her world, thinking of the summers ahead of us, another month at the camp, and another, and another. All the fun we would have…

An exasperated voice snapped her out of her daydream and almost threw me off the rooftop. “What are you two doing up there? Get off the roof! Quick, quick, before you get hurt!” Called an older girl from the ground. We always got caught when we were on the roof, but they couldn’t stop us from climbing up there anyway.

Maya and I exchanged a mischievous grin and giggling, crawled back to the window and inside the cabin. I could already see the busses pulling up, ready to take us home.

“So see you next summer?” I asked, hugging her for a last time.

“Next summer,” she whispered, squeezing me tightly.

Let’s go a few years later, shall we? We spent many times together, but what I want to share… that happened only one summer, in the near past.

It had been eight years since the summer that Maya and I had made our promise. Every summer we met at Camp Blue Ocean and promised we’d make it for another year. She and I lived in different cities, but we always called and e-mailed each other at least once a month, checked on each other, talked about our day and all the things that we would do when we would see each other again.

Maya’s fifteenth birthday was just a few days before the camping session, and she was already packing her things. This was typical Maya. She was always prepared for anything that could possibly happen. Even if the end of the world came right now, she’d have everything packed and a rocket ready to take us to the moon.

As usual, she’d giggled when her mother had told her to sit still, and when the time to have the serious talk they always did before leaving for Blue Ocean, she’d imitated her mother’s high pitched voice, saying, “Make sure you have all your meds and leave them at the nurse’s office as soon as you get off the bus. Don’t forget to take them in time and that you eat many vegetables. If you don’t feel well, skip the walk to the beach. Don’t stay up too late and don’t make the camp’s staff run after you and Evan to clean up your mess.

The two of us were a troublesome bunch. We always were the noisy sort, we always had the staff chasing after us to stop us before we did something really crazy.

We had both been fighting with cancer since childhood. There was no easy cancer, if you wanted my opinion. Cancer was tough, one way or another. Maya had leukemia, but with chemo and blood transfusions, she’d made it this far. Ten years. That was more than any doctor had expected she would live.

So had I. I hated to admit it, but I was probably the boy with the girliest brain tumor on the planet. A butterfly tumor! God, it felt embarrassing when I needed to describe my condition to somebody. Maya was the only person allowed to make jokes about it.

It had been a good year for my friend. Like always, we wouldn’t see each other until we’d go to the camp, but Maya talked a lot. Her symptoms had been going away for the past months, and her doctor had said that her leukemia seemed to be waving us goodbye. A few more months, a few more blood tests, and he’d confirm that Maya’s cancer was in remission.

* * * * *

The day was finally here. Maya promised her mother for the zillionth time that she would call every day, that she would be careful and all the other things that moms like hearing, before hurrying up the bus. She spent her lonely, four-hour, bus drive struggling to paint her nails, because she had all her books stuffed in her suitcase and forgot to take them up with her.

I, in a different bus, was reading with fascination a book about the physiology of the little forest thieves, the raccoons. The bus was bursting with life, excited children singing and talking and in some few cases, old friends seeing each other. See, that was the thing with cancer camp; you were never sure if you’d see all the people you had met, when the next summer came. Children came and went and I had accepted that years ago. Most of the children Maya and I had first met, back when we were seven, hadn’t survived to see adolescence. I was more surprised than not when she saw Susan, the girl with layers of freckles on top freckles, and Paul, the boy who always wore socks underneath his flip flops like a tourist who’d never been at a place near the sea before.

The only one I knew for sure that I would see, was Maya. We’d made a promise. We’d keep seeing each other at Camp Blue Ocean every year, until we were too old to go there anymore. And we’d go to college together after that; we’d rent a house together, or get dorm rooms next door. Yes, we had it all planned out. It was all going to happen.

Maya got off the bus the moment the doors opened. She was the first in line to get her suitcase and hurried to leave her meds at the nurse’s office. She tossed her suitcase in front of the cabin where she always stayed since the first time she’d come to Blue Ocean and was running back down to the parking lot to spot me. It was the same thing every year.

I could see Maya’s curious face, scanning the crowds as excited children made their way to the camp’s entrance. It was hard to spot her; she had a new wig every year. She had lost most of her hair because of the chemo, but I hadn’t heard her complain once about it. She didn’t complain much at the camp all those years actually. That was the side of Maya I’d always known.

She found me before I found her. She ran to my direction and wrapped her arms around me. I picked her up and spun her around like there wasn’t anybody else on the parking lot.

“You can put me down now,” she teased. “Take your time, no pressure. Just whenever you feel like it,” she kept on rambling, and grinning, until I set her on her feet.

“Maya-boo! Long time no see, huh?”

“It’s exactly as much as it was last year, from what I recall,” she said and helped me with my stuff.

“Actually, February had 29 days this year. So it’s one day more than last year,” I pointed out in that know-all tone of mine.

“You’re such a nerd!” Maya said and hugged me again. “I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you too,” I whispered in her ear. “But if you don’t let me walk soon enough, they’re gonna take all the top bunks and I’ll be stuck on the bottom beds with all the preschoolers.”

“You’re not in the same cabin with preschoolers!” Maya exclaimed.

“It was worth making it a bit more dramatic now, wasn’t it?”

She snorted and punched my shoulder playfully. “I like the new wig,” I said finally.

“You do?”

“Yeah. Ginger looks good on you. It really makes your eyes stand out.” Maya blushed. “But…” I started thoughtfully. “I thought you said on the phone that your new wig matched my hair.”

“But it does!” Maya said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Since the very first day I got it, it gets messy on its own, kinda like your hair! Plus, ginger looks really good next to black doesn’t it? They’re a match.”

I laughed. “You don’t make sense at all.”

“Not making sense is my specialty,” she said, winking at me and doing a theatric bow.

“Okay, just stay there, crazy person. I’m going to claim my top bunk and I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!”

Maya nodded and lay on the grass in front of my cabin. A few more boys walked in after me, but there were no familiar faces among them. Some looked a little older than me, some a little younger. The only thing I knew about them, was that they all had cancer of some sort. It wasn’t the most pleasant thought, but it was always easier at the camp. You knew you weren’t the only one. That was sort of comforting.

I dumped my stuff on a top bunk, came out and pulled Maya up. “Come on. Let’s go sit someplace.”

* * * * *

The benches under the big oak were our favorite spot. Other than the roof of Maya’s cabin, that was. We could hear the crickets and their peculiar song from where we were sitting, and the buzzing from all the kids unpacking, getting to know their campmates and all the rest.

“So, I decided that chemo has its pros,” Maya announced, staring lazily up at the blue sky.

“Oh? And what may those be?”

“In my case at least, I got to wear a wig.”

“And that’s supposed to be a pro?”

“Well, it’s fun.” I frowned at her and shook my head, showing that she didn’t make sense. “Oh, think about it this way! Girls go through all those sorts of phases, they dye their hair a hundred different colors before turning 20. I just change wigs. It’s easier and way faster. I see my mom dyeing her hair. You can’t imagine how long that stuff takes to dry up!”

I pretended to be banging my head against the tree behind me. “You’re insane. I can’t believe I’ve been your friend for the past eight years.”

“It’s been eight years, huh?” She leaned against my shoulder and made herself comfortable.

“Yeah.”

“Have you been counting them?”

“Haven’t you?”

She sat up and turned to look at me. She’d told me once that thought my face was adorable, even though I knew that my glasses made my already too small, Asian eyes look even smaller. “Well…” I looked at her. “Yes, I have.”

* * * * *

The mess hall, as usual was bursting with noise. Excited voices, giggles, spoons and forks clinging against the plastic dishes echoed through the room. That day’s food was amazing. I didn’t know how they did it, but in that camp, they could make even vegetables taste amazing. Maya, who hardly ever lacked appetite –in her good days at least– quickly finished her second dish and was about to go for round 3.

This was extraordinary, even for her. I knew her good mood was caused, not only by her return to the camp, but also by the news about her leukemia remising. All the way to lunch, she couldn’t stop talking about it. I knew all about it already, but I didn’t want to spoil it for her. I wish I heard good news like those every once in a while about my tumor, but the best we managed with my medication was to slow down its growth. Taking it out, was out of the question.

My eyes grew as big as tennis balls as soon as I saw what she had on her tray. It looked as if she’d piled up the whole buffet on a single square piece of plastic.

“You gonna eat all that?” I asked.

“That’s the plan,” she said happily.

“Now that you’re getting rid of cancer you decided that it’s a good idea to start getting fat, huh?”

She shook her head. “I could put up some weight; with the last chemo I lost fifteen pounds. And I was already almost underweight,” she pointed out.

I frowned and turned back at my own dish. Usually, the Maya I knew, was a peppy girl, healthy looking most of the time, with bright blue eyes and freckled cheeks. She had always been thin, but underweight? The truth was, that most of the time, she came to the camp when her symptoms drew back. I hadn’t seen her worst days, and I knew that was probably another reason she and I didn’t ever meet outside Blue Ocean.

“What do we have after lunch?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“Let’s see…” She tapped her chin thoughtfully with two fingers and was already picturing the whole camping period’s timetable in her head. Photographic memory, that’s what that girl had! She always refused it, but it can’t be possible for a human being to memorize this much information by just a glance. “Soccer and then choir. We’re watching a movie tonight.”

“Choir???” I groaned. That was the only thing I hated in this camp. I always sang out of tune, but the staff here told everyone that they sang great. I wondered how they could stand hearing me sing. I knew my voice probably sounded like somebody’s nails screeching against a blackboard.

* * * * *

Choir was over soon, and luckily, I didn’t have to speak a word out loud; moving my lips soundlessly was equally effective. I would have found a good excuse not to show up at all, but Maya loved choir. And why wouldn’t she? Her voice was amazing. I went to choir just to be with her. We saw each other only during our camping time once a year; I didn’t want to lose a single minute of it.

We had the rest of the afternoon free to do as we pleased. Usually that meant – at least for the girls – figuring out what to wear tonight for the movie and applying make-up, all the while chattering like a busy beehive. I was having a hard time understanding why they acted as if every night at the camp was prom night. Maya tried to explain it to me once, but it still couldn’t make sense to me.

“What should we do till the movie?” I asked, groaning and hoping Maya wouldn’t ditch me to try on dresses.

“Could go to the art stand,” she said, shrugging.

“To make beaded bracelets?” I asked jokingly.

“You do that. I’ll paint my nails.”

I rolled my eyes, but she was already running to her cabin. I couldn’t believe that she was serious. Nails?! No kidding, that girl’s getting worse and worse every year! Soon, she was back with a little orange bag.

“Ready to go,” she announced and pulled me towards the art stand. It was the closest activity stand to our cabins. A bit further down was the playground, then the soccer field a few feet away. If you walked up the slope there was the mess hall, the stage, where we did all the plays and on its left, stood the nurse’s office. It was more like a mini hospital, but how could you expect less from cancer camp?

There were a few little kids at the art stand, all sharing the same table and spilling wet clay all over the floor. We made much better use of clay when we were their age. We hung it from unsuspecting victims’ hair and watched until they’d figure it out.

We took a seat on a table far away from the littlies, where we’d be safe from the flying bits of clay. As every table, in the middle you could find a box full of beads, string, papers and colored pencils, clay packed in plastic bags and tons of other things. You could also ask for plaster from the woman in charge of the stand, but you had to work on it under supervision.

Only then did I realize how serious Maya was about her nails. She pulled out a little bottle of green nail polish. “So you’ll be doing your nails for real?” I asked, still only half believing it.

“Of course. I did only my toe fingers in the bus,” she said. She had changed. Last time I saw her, she couldn’t even stand the smell of nail polish. She could leave her cabin just because it reeked nail polish in there.

I was supposedly making a beaded bracelet, like the ones Maya and I used to make when we were younger. I have a whole collection of friendship bracelets she’d made for me. She probably had one just as big from the ones I’d given her throughout the years. Maya’s forehead had wrinkled, and she frowned as concentrated on her nails. Just from her expression you could tell the result should be epic. This was why you’d better not to look at the nails.

I fell back on the bench and laughed with my heart.

“What?!” She exclaimed.

“God, Maya, you wouldn’t be able to paint a nail right, even if it would save your life!” I said between giggles.

“Oh, really?” She fell on top of me and started tickling me with her right hand, which was still nail-polish free.

“Stop it,” I murmured playfully and tried to push her off me, just to find myself pinned against the bench again.

“Oh, no, no, no, sir! You’re not getting away this easily!” And the tickling went on, and on, and on until we were both breathing heavily, our noses almost touching, and all the littlies had turned to look at us.

I glanced at them. “Maybe we should sit up,” I suggested.

Maya smiled and finally let me go. With a huge grin still plastered on her face, she went back to painting her nails. “You did better with the toenails in the bus,” I mused teasingly. She just shook her head, still smiling. “I also think they looked better before you painted them green.”

She looked up at me then, more seriously. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course! Since when is it pretty to have nails that look like some green goo somehow ended up on them?”

She smirked and punched my chest. “Better help me get this polish off then, mister, or I might change my mind and paint yours green too.”

I got down to business, because I knew it was better for people to see me getting rid of the green goo from her nails, instead of having it on mine too. I felt a little ridiculous doing it, and was glad there were only the littlies around to see me. It didn’t seem very manly, no matter which way one saw it.

“Now can we please stick to the good, old friendship bracelets?” I pleaded, as soon the last drop of that horrid, green polish was gone.

“Alright.”

“And don’t ever try painting your nails with that green thing again!”

“Done,” she said, bumping my shoulder with hers and grabbing a fistful of beads.

* * * * *

The movie they’d picked turned out to be a romantic comedy. It was something about a woman, who had a car accident, and every morning she forgot what had happened the previous day, and about a guy who had a crush on her. I admired that guy; having to explain to her every single morning everything that had happened the days before…

Maya was ecstatic when the movie finished. She kept rambling on and on about how sweet the story was and that they had a baby in the end and blah, blah, blah!

“I couldn’t have done what he did,” I said, when her long speech was over.

“What?”

“Live with someone who couldn’t remember a single thing about me till she sees us kissing on a video tape? No. I couldn’t be with her.”

Her jaw fell. “Not even if she was the love of your life?”

“Oh, Maya, I don’t know! If I meet the love of my life, and she has amnesia, I’ll let you know how it goes!”

“Okay, okay! Don’t get mad! I got the message,” she said quickly. “Wanna hang out for a bit before going to sleep?”

I shrugged and we both snuck between the crowd and went behind the nurse’s office. Strange as it sounded, this was the best hiding place. The trees opened up behind it and you could look at the stars in the sky. No attending ever thought of looking for us there. We could sit all night if we wanted, coming up with funny names for all the constellations we could see. Like the good old times.

* * * * *

The following days went by quickly, with a lot of teasing, laughing and Maya figuring out I was lip-singing in choir and forcing my off-key vocal talents to be revealed. In the mornings, we’d go to the beach. Our attendings would take us back to Blue Ocean an hour before lunch, so we had just enough time to take a shower and wash away the seawater and the sand. The rest of our schedule was different every day. Sometimes we had basketball, hide and seek (yes, hide and seek was actually a separate activity),  or dancing. That last one was even worse than choir. At least both Maya and I agreed on that.

This is how dancing classes went for the two of us. Someone from the staff would show us the ‘very simple’ steps we had to repeat when the music started. Maya and I would pair up and the disaster would begin. After a couple of steps, one of us would forget what we were supposed to do next. We’d start to move around randomly, usually stopping only when we bumped with another pair. We’d step on each other’s feet, and we’d stumble even though we moved on even ground. Here is the thing. I had two left feet. Maya had two left feet as well. This was the only way dance lessons could go for the pair with four left feet.

Tuesday evening we had chickpeas for dinner. I swore that night that if I had any more pulses till Friday, I was going to kill somebody. The cook preferably.

When dinner was over, we walked out of the mess hall with everyone else. We were just a few meters from our cabins, when the sound of a bell ringing and seagulls croaking came from the speakers. “Attention! Attention! Arrrg!” A voice began. “Calling all sailors to a treasure hunt! Hear meh? Treasure hunt, aye, aye! Each team find yer captain and let the treasure hunt begin! Arggg!”

Maya and I looked at each other and at the same time, we burst into laughter. “They’re still doing treasure hunts?” I asked. There had been years when we’d had three or four treasure hunts. Last year though, we didn’t get to go on a treasure hunt, not even once. We had both assumed they’d stopped them for a reason.

“Looks like it,” she said, grinning mischievously.

“Better find our captain then, lassie and get started, aye, aye!” I said in my best piratic accent and we started a funny march to our ‘captain’.

* * * * *

Thursday was there before we knew it. We were at the beach, but I hadn’t gone in the water yet. It was hot, but I wanted to gain some color before jumping in. As Maya had put it, if I stood naked against a white wall, I’d be perfectly camouflaged. She was obviously exaggerating, but I really wanted to tan, even just a little.

The beach was the sandy kind, and if you dug with your fingers in the thin sand you could find tons of shells. Sometimes I collected some for my mom, because she really liked them. Maya was a few feet ahead of me, the water reaching her knees as she splashed water at my direction. She kept asking me to get in, but I was just grinning and shaking my head.

She looked pretty. Her body was curvier than last year and that red bikini that she was wearing made a contrast with her fair complexion. Her ginger hair shone in the sunlight… I shook away the thoughts. What was I thinking? Yeah, my best friend is becoming attractive. So what?

My mind barely registered the image of Maya kneeling down and whispering in a boy’s ear something. The boy ran off, with a plastic bucket in his hand, and Maya moved further into the water. Before I knew what hit me, I was soaking wet and the little boy was running away as fast as he could.

“Maya!!!” I called at her and rushed into the water.

She shrieked and dove in. I could see her head emerging from the water further into the sea. “Come and get me if you can!” She yelled and I started swimming towards her direction.

She kept going deeper and deeper until she reached the buoys marking up to where we could swim. She had nowhere to go, so it was just what I needed to catch up with her. I dove underwater and pulled her leg before getting out to catch my breath. “Got ya!”

She laughed and caught the buoy closer to her. “I made you get in the water though, didn’t I?” She said satisfied with herself.

I stuck my tongue out at her. “If I get that little boy in my hands though…” I stopped midsentence. “Hey, you have a nosebleed.”

“What? No, I don’t,” she said and quickly ran the back of her hand over her nose. When she looked at it, it was stained red. “Oh.” She half-shrugged. “Guess I bumped against the buoy while I was swimming. I couldn’t really see where I was going.”

“Are you sure that you’re alright?” I asked, concerned.

“Yeah. Everything’s good. Let’s go back, I want to be able to touch the bottom with my feet.”

I was still not fully convinced, but I swam back with her. The nosebleed seemed to have stopped and neither of us mentioned it again while we took turns doing handstands and cartwheels underwater. She seemed fine after that anyway, so by the end of the day, it had completely slipped my mind.

The next day though, around lunchtime the same thing happened; her nose started bleeding when she stood up to get a glass of water. Maya just blamed the heat and said that she’d had nosebleeds in the past during hot days, but I insisted that she should go at the nurse’s office. After a few quick tests the nurse said that Maya was alright and that it was probably the heat, just like she’d suspected. On our way back, Maya showed me how mad she was with me. Yes, sweet, smiling Maya, whom I’ve never seen having an actual fight with anyone, was mad at me.

“What did you do that for?” She asked. “What are you? My mom?!”

“I was worried about you! It’s been the second nosebleed you’ve had!”

“Evan, we’re in the middle of the summer! Do you know how many people here must have had nosebleeds today?”

“You know why I thought that it would be something worse, I just–”

“My leukemia isn’t back! It is in remission!” She was yelling. Maya never yelled. I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there, looking at her; and I wasn’t the only one. Everyone nearby had heard her outburst. Maya was red with anger and kept staring at me in a way she never had before. I almost flinched. “I’m going to lie down. See you later,” she said coldly and left, feet stomping angrily on the ground.

I took a book and sat under a tree, alone, but I could still see Maya’s cabin from there. She was probably lying down, just like she’d said she would. I decided to wait for her. She had to come out for the afternoon activities. I could apologize to her then. But when the time came, I saw other girls come out of the cabin, but not her. I asked them where she was, and they told me that she was sleeping.

Odd. Maya never slept at noon. Did she want to avoid me so badly to fake sleep? I felt hurt. We had never had a fight before. I left to go to choir all by myself; I had to do something to get my mind off Maya. At least I could lip sing freely now that she wouldn’t be next to me, nudging me to really sing.

* * * * *

I didn’t see her until the next morning. She didn’t sit in her regular spot next to me. I couldn’t tell if she was sitting with the girls from her cabin either. She came to find me while I was walking to the beach.

“Hi,” I muttered, avoiding eye contact at her.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

“So… about yesterday… I’m–” I started. She put a finger on top of my lips.

“No, don’t say anything. I’m sorry, Evan. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You just wanted to make sure I was fine.”

I nodded. “Then is everything okay between us?”

“Everything’s okay.”

I smiled. “Race you to the beach then?”

“One…” She started. “Two…”

“Three!” I called and pushed myself forward. I maneuvered myself between the rest of the kids, careful not to throw anyone on the ground. I could hear her coming behind me, but I reached the beach first. I waited for a few seconds, but she didn’t come. I went back to look for her. She was just standing up, brushing sand off her knees. I gave her my hand for support. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just tripped.” I looked at her knee, but she just shook her head. “It’s nothing serious, just a scratch.”

“Okay, if you say so. Let’s get in the water, it’s so hot out here!”

“Sure, just give me a sec to catch my breath.”

“Are you tired?” I instantly knew I was back in worried mode. I hoped it wouldn’t anger her like yesterday.

“No, no, I’m okay.” She stood up and ran to the water. “Are you coming?” What is going on with her? I wondered, but hurried to join her.

* * * * *

During the following days, things got worse. I knew it couldn’t just be my imagination anymore. Maya’s knee bruised badly, and come on, who got bruised by a fall in the sand? She made midday naps a daily habit and sometimes she skipped activities, especially soccer or basketball, because she was feeling tired. She started having nosebleeds so often that I always had tissues with me. It couldn’t all just be in my head.

I didn’t know how I was supposed to make her listen. How could I make her accept that she was getting worse and that it was all happening too fast? She was so happy for her leukemia’s remission. Even through the fatigue and the nosebleeds, she still was smiling, happy Maya. If I told her what I thought, she’d be crushed.

At Monday night, we had another treasure hunt. The excited pirate arrrg’ed from the speakers for us to start looking for the box with the chocolate-coins. Maya and I followed our team, but I could tell she was getting tired even though we had barely started. I let the rest of the team get ahead of us and walked in Maya’s pace, the treasure hunt long forgotten.

“Look, this needs to stop, Maya.”

“It’s fine, Evan, I’m fine! Let’s go find the others. We’ve fallen behind.” She took my hand and pulled me back towards the path. I could hear the rest of our team as we got closer. At some point Maya stopped, seeking support from a tree.

“You okay?”

“I… I dunno…” She squinted her eyes, as if she was trying to look at my face.

“What is it?”

“I…” She was falling.

I felt so helpless. I kept talking to her, but she couldn’t hear me. “Maya! Maya! Help, someone!”

* * * * *

We were taken to the nearest hospital. The monitor kept beeping. And beeping. And beeping. I felt as if the sound was trying to drill a hole into my scull. I couldn’t let her go though. Maya would be left all alone. Her mother was coming, but it wasn’t like Maya lived next to the camp. My mom had talked the camp and made arrangements so that I could be with Maya at the hospital.

I hated to admit it, but I had been right. Her leukemia was back. It had been just five minutes since the doctor had come in with her blood test results. I had asked if he could fix her, repeatedly. The only thing he said was that he had to talk to her mother first.

“I told you, Maya! I told you!” I yelled at the sleeping girl in the bed. It was like talking to a wall. And it attracted just as much attention.

A kind-looking nurse in pink scrubs came in. “Is everything alright?”

I nodded half-heartedly. I felt my eyes water and quickly turned the other way. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Maybe you should go eat something. Get some chocolate, it will help with the tension.”

“N-no. I’m good here.”

“What if I stay with your friend until you get back?” She pulled a chair by the side of Maya’s bed and sat. “I won’t move an inch.”

I looked at her uncertainly for a second. “Okay,” I said finally.

When I returned, Maya was still sleeping and the nurse hadn’t moved a single inch, as she’d promised. She stayed for a while and we talked. Her name was Natalie. I asked if she knew what the doctor had to tell Maya’s mother, but couldn’t tell me. She had no idea, or even if she had, she didn’t let it show. I told her about Maya’s leukemia and my stupid, girly tumor and how the two of us ended up being best friends.

“Ah, that explains it,” she said. “I thought you were her boyfriend.”

I felt my face heating up instantly. “What? Not even close! Where did you get that idea?”

She lifted her shoulders and smiled. “I can see the way you’re looking at her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shook my head and looked out the window. “I’m just her best friend, who’s worried sick about her!”

“Okay, if you say so. I need to get back to work now. But I’ll see you around, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere until she gets out of here,” I said with certainty.

And the waiting began again. The monitor beeped, and I just sat there, watching Maya, as she slept. Later that night her mother called me, saying that she was stuck in traffic and that she’d be there in the morning. At some point, I was too exhausted and fell asleep on the chair. When I woke up, I found Maya looking at me. I jumped up instantly.

“You’re awake!” Was all I could say.

“Thank you for pointing that out, Mr. Obvious,” she said, smiling. Under the hospital lighting she looked weak and tired, and very, very pale.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I have too many tubes stuck in my hands to get up without hurting myself.”

“It’s not funny, Maya. I told you something was wrong.”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine. See?” She stretched her hands over her head and then pointed at the finished hospital meal on her feet. “I am alright, my appetite’s fine and I feel ready to get back to Blue Ocean.”

“You can’t be serious! Maya, you collapsed! You may be taking it all lightly, but it wasn’t very entertaining seeing you hit with high voltage to get your heart beating again!” I exclaimed.

“But it’s beating again, isn’t it?”

I resisted the urge to slap my forehead with the back of my palm. “That’s not the point! Maya, don’t you realize it? You relapsed!”

She shook her head. She was perfectly calm. “Don’t be silly. It’s something new. My leukemia was gone. My doctor said it.”

“Maya…” I started and sat on the side of the bed.

Her mother walked in. She looked so much like her daughter. She had the same blond, curly hair, that Maya used to have when I’d first met her, and the same blue eyes. Her skin was darker, probably from age and plenty of time spent in the sun. She went to hug Maya and I decided I should give them some space. I got up and reached the door.

Natalie came from the supply room next door and waved at me. “How is she doing?”

“She doesn’t believe that her leukemia is back.”

“Aww, I see…” She pushed her lips together. “You know, maybe she just needs time.”

“She –” I shook my head. “She wanted it so badly! Her cancer to be gone, I mean. That’s why she doesn’t accept it. She doesn’t get it. Thinking that it’s gone doesn’t make it actually go away!” I realized I had raised my voice. I looked down shyly. “I just hope her mom can make her understand.”

“I heard the staff talking. They’re checking her lab results and are consulting with her doctor back home. I’ve heard of him. He’s one of the best.” She was trying to cheer me up, but I wasn’t sure that she’d achieve that, no matter how much she tried.

“He’d better be,” was the nicest think I could think of. And that wasn’t very nice, was it?

Eventually Maya’s mother came out. She greeted me and thanked me for staying with her daughter. She hadn’t spoken yet to the doctors, so she left hurriedly to find them. Maya asked me to go back in.

“So remember that year when we pretended that there was a zombie apocalypse?” She asked out of the blue.

I couldn’t understand what she was getting at. “I guess I do. What about it?” I honestly wanted to sound cheery and peppy like her, but I couldn’t do it. Somehow, we had both managed to stay out of hospitals during the camping period. Not once had something gone wrong during that time. This was my time with Maya in Blue Ocean. Not in a yellow-walled hospital.

“Do you remember that we pretended that everyone had turned into zombies and we teamed up to save the camp?”

Yeah,” I groaned, wishing she’d just cut to the chase.

“I know that was just make-believe, but we had said back then, that no matter what we’re told, we’d still be the same to each other.”

“I remember that one. You made a pretty inspiring speech back then. It was from some TV-show, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, something with evil ninja-monkeys taking over the world, I think.”

We grinned at each other for a few seconds. This almost felt like the old us. Then I remembered. “You were getting somewhere with that,” I reminded her.

“Right. Yeah, I wanted to ask you again for the same thing.”

“To play make-believe?”

She stuck her tongue at me. “No! To be the same to each other, no matter what.”

“Even if your leukemia is back?”

No matter what, Evan. Even if it was our last day on earth.” I stared at the monitor, thinking. “I went a little overboard with that one, didn’t I?”

I shook my head. “It’s not that. I’ll tell you later.” I realized I still hadn’t answered her question. “Okay. I’ll try not to change.”

I was surprised when she reached for my hand. “Thanks.”

* * * * *

Her mother came back later with the doctor who was in charge of her case. Maya insisted that I didn’t leave the room while he talked to her. He told her that her leukemia was undeniably back. She burst into tears at first and squeezed my hand tightly. Slowly she collected herself and asked what could be done. Bone marrow transplant was the best option according to her doctor, but she had to wait for a few more days to know if there was a compatible donor and if her body could handle it.

Her mom agreed to let me sleep in the room with her. It felt a little like being back at the camp. We stayed up late and talked, had dinner together, joked around. I bought an Uno from the gift shop downstairs, and it proved to be a great way of wasting time during those endless days at the hospital. I was sore from sleeping in the old armchair in her room, and really missed my top bunk back at Blue Ocean, but I wasn’t going anywhere until Maya got out of here.

I knew she wasn’t better. She was… there was this word I’d heard a lot since she was admitted, which fit perfectly to her case… stable. She was stable. At least for the first two days she was. Then the fevers started. We couldn’t keep the window open and cool down the room, because there was the risk of infection, but her beddings were tossed on the side of her bed. The doctor gave her something for the fever, and it helped most of the time. She hardly ever wore her wig anymore, because she said it was uncomfortable with all this heat. She didn’t have much hair of her own. It looked as if it was cut in a short, boyish style; it was light blonde, almost white. So much like her mom’s.

I hadn’t gotten used to this version of Maya. She was sleeping more, talking less, but trying to smile as much as before. Sometimes I met Natalie in the halls, when I went to get something from the cafeteria, and some other times she came in Maya’s room to check on her IV tube and check her chart at the foot of her bed.

Maya and I had spent the first half of our day trying to make sense of what her chart was saying, but for two people who’d spent half their life in a hospital, it was almost disappointing how little we understood of it. Her doctor came to check on her occasionally, but he said he had no news yet about the transplant. How much longer could Maya be like this though? He hadn’t told us that either.

Five days had passed, and we both missed Blue Ocean already. Even their chickpeas for lunch and their dance lessons.

I was on my way to the cafeteria, and Natalie was joining me. It was the end of her shift, and she said I was good company. I wondered how that was, since I spent all my positive energy around Maya, and felt like all my gloominess got out as soon as I stepped out of her room. She told me jokes often, to cheer me up, and then I told them to Maya, when we ran out of topics to discuss. When I went back to Maya’s room, she didn’t smile, like she usually did.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Aren’t you feeling well? Do you want me to get your doctor?”

She shook her head. Her eyes seemed a little swollen, as if she had been crying. “I’m feeling fine. My fever’s down.”

“Okay then. So what’s the problem?”

“I think you should get back to Blue Ocean.”

“Are you getting discharged?” I asked hopefully.

“No. I probably won’t come back for the end of the camping period this year.”

“Then I’ll stay with you. I told you I wasn’t leaving without you.”

“What if I want you to leave?”

I shook my head. “Out of the question,” I said instantly. “Is there something that you’re not telling me?” She fell back on her pillows and stared at the ceiling. I went closer to her bed, and squeezed her hand. “Maya-boo?”

“Please, Evan.” Her voice cracked and she pulled her hand away. She hid her face in her pillow.

“Your doctor told you something. What did he tell you?”

“Nothing,” she said, her voice half-muffled by the pillow. “I just don’t want you here anymore.”

“Hey, aren’t we friends? Maya?” She didn’t answer. She stayed like this for a long time, probably expecting me to leave. But I wasn’t going anywhere. I sat on my armchair and waited, pushing my glasses up every once in a while. When her food arrived, she pretended she didn’t notice. I told her that they’d brought her food, and I knew that she could smell it, but she still ignored me. Natalie came to take away her untouched tray about an hour later.

She asked me quietly what was wrong and I shrugged. She left quickly, closing the door behind her.

“It is not going to go away,” she said. “My leukemia is here to stay.”

I frowned. “But you’re going to take your meds and keep trying with the chemo. It’s not the end of the world. It’s okay,” I said.

“They said I’m too weak to take the marrow even though they found a donor,” she continued. “They also said I’m not going to get better. So, I need you to leave and go back at Blue Ocean, or wherever else you wanna be, before I get even worse than I already am. Okay? You’ve seen me without my wig, and that’s bad enough.”

I half smiled. That was supposed to be a joke. “What if I want to stick around even when things get worse?” I asked.

“I don’t want you to. Stick around for what? To watch me die? I have less than a week. I’d send away my mom too, if I could, but she won’t go. Can’t you just go back to Blue Ocean and remember us playing zombie apocalypse and making friendship bracelets?”

“Do you think that you would be able to do that if it was me lying in that bed? We made a promise. We promised we’d keep fighting.”

She didn’t answer. “You’ll probably just see me sleeping most of the day,” she said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Tears stained her cheeks, but she forced a smile.

I forced a smile too. “Consider me warned.”

* * * * *

Every day, the doctor came in and said his calculations were wrong. He gave her one day less. By the third day, he said it’d be a miracle if she made it to see the next morning. Maya was in a state between consciousness and sleep, twenty four seven. She said things sometimes, like what the others at the camp would be probably doing right now, or asking what the time was.

Sometime around four in the morning, I was struggling to keep my eyes open; I knew I couldn’t let myself fall asleep. Natalie stopped by to bring me some coffee, although I knew it wasn’t the best for my tumor. Caffeine was supposed to be a no-no for me. Maya looked at me, her lids falling slowly, then snapping open again.

“Sleep if you want,” I said. Maybe it’d be easier that way.

“I don’t want to,” she said sluggishly.

“Okay.” She lifted her hand, and I gave her mine. She held it, but barely. She was too weak to squeeze it like she usually did.

“Will you lie down with me?” I couldn’t believe I was thinking about it, instead of doing as she asked me right away. After all this time of sitting back to back, and lying our head on each other’s lap, and rolling in the grass in a jumbled ball of limbs, I wasn’t sure about this?

“Do I get one of these last wish things?” She asked, when she was comfortably cuddled against my chest.

“I guess you do, if you want to.”

“Can I ask for more than one thing?”

“Okay.” I couldn’t bring myself to answer to her in long sentences.

“I need you to keep me awake, to say… everything that I… want. Don’t let me fall asleep yet,” she pleaded. Her voice was barely a whisper. I nodded. I wasn’t sure if she noticed, but she continued. “I want you to get back to Blue Ocean, okay? Find somebody new there, and promise again. That you’ll keep fighting it.”

“But–”

Her hand found my lips. “Shhh. I’m the one talking now. You will do it. You made it this far and it worked like a charm. Do it again. For me?”

I nodded.

“I want another favor too. I…”

“Maya?” I shook her gently. “Hey, you wanted me to keep you awake. Don’t go yet.” I tried not to let on how desperate I was.

She stirred a little. “Yeah. I’m here. So… that cute nurse, Natalie… she said that there’s a good neurosurgeon here. Maybe he can get… your tumor out. Ask him about it. I know it’s inop– in–” She seemed to struggle a little with the word, “inoperable. But they said my leukemia’s gone and it wasn’t. Maybe they say your tumor can’t go away, but it can.”

I couldn’t bring myself to object this time. “I will,” I promised.

“Remember my dad? I haven’t told you much about him.”

That was true. He was one of the few topics we left untouched. She probably didn’t miss him much since she barely knew her, but he was always terrified of her cancer. He left Maya and her mother because of it. “I remember.”

“I once heard him tell Mom… that with fighting the cancer, we were just cheating death. I think… he was right.”

“Don’t say that, Maya-boo,” I started.

“I didn’t say that the cheating wasn’t fun. I really liked all… the cheating we did… together. Keep cheating, Evan.” She frowned, as if she was trying to remember something else. “I want to ask for one last thing. It’s a little selfish though.”

“I don’t mind.” I tried to sound calm, but I couldn’t. “Say it, whatever it is.”

“Mmm hmm,” she breathed against my chest, and I was afraid she was falling asleep.

“Maya!”

At the sound of her name, she turned around again. “I’m getting sleepy.” She looked up at me. I couldn’t keep the tears back this time.

“Th– there was another thing, you wanted to say.”

“The selfish one,” she seemed to remember.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“If you get that tumor out, and have a family… can you name one of your children after me?”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” I said softly.

“Good.” She tried to sit up and placed her head on my shoulder. “I think I was beginning to kind of like you.”

“We wouldn’t be friends if you didn’t,” I pointed out. I tried to be tough, for her, but it wasn’t working. The tears kept running down my cheeks.

“I mean… as in… like you. That’s why I kept getting mad at you for no reason. I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s okay. I think I was beginning to kind of like you too. Natalie said she could tell from my look.”

“She’s smart, that Natalie… I wish… I’d figured it out before her.”

I turned to face her. Our noses touched. She was in a terrible shape, tired and ill, and with short locks of white fluff covering her head, but she was still alive. For a few more minutes, she’d be here, with me. Without thinking, I pressed my lips against hers. It wasn’t a demanding kiss. It was gentle and tasted like salt. I supposed that was my fault. I was crying like a baby. I pulled away, wanting to give her space. “I’m sorry.”

She blinked. “Thank you.” Her lids were closing. “I think it’s time,” she murmured.

I shook my head. “Not yet! Please, stay a little longer!”

“Keep cheating, Evan,” were the last words she said and her eyes closed.

I didn’t know how long I spent lying there. I couldn’t let her go. I knew she was gone, but I didn’t know how to get up and leave her there. I wasn’t going to get back to Blue Ocean until she got better and we could go together. Now how was I supposed to go, without my Maya-boo with me? The monitor’s continuous “beeeep” kept going, but it was as if I couldn’t hear it after a while anymore. I didn’t know if it had managed to drill that hole in my head. I felt like I was full of holes, all over my body.

Natalie was the first one to come in. She helped me up, a piece of chocolate ready in her hand. I didn’t know if I could make it go down, but I took it anyway. She led me out of the room. Everything felt quiet, and I wasn’t even sure if Natalie was talking or not.

All I knew was that I had to do what Maya wanted me to. I had to keep cheating.

Author's Note: This story was written for the first Teen Writer's Contest, with the theme "It Happened One Summer". It won the first place, so yay! It wasn't the cheeriest story I could think of, but it was one of those that had to be written. Child and teen cancer is one of the themes that I always wanted to write about, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so. I would like to mention that the story isn't 100% accurate as far as medical information is concerned, it's based on the research I did online and the corrections Wendy did, since she used to work as a paramedic and is more familiar with hospitals and patients. Also, from my research I discovered that patients with butterfly tumors survive for much less years than Evan, but I chose to use this particular tumor for the purpose of the story.