What's Left of Me
Page 44

Better? How is being pushed and shoved better? I need this explained to me.
“Come on, Aundrea,” Parker says, standing.
He doesn’t take my shaking head as an answer because he starts to pull me up from my chair.
“I’ll keep my arm around you the entire time. I’ll shield you from harm’s way,” he says protectively, while winking.
We walk side by side to the floor where all the crazies have formed. Parker’s arm remains tight around my waist. We stand in the back of the crowd away from the mosh pit.
Parker starts to dance and it’s nothing like our dancing before. It’s carefree. He’s carefree. He throws his hands in the air, dancing and screaming with the crowd.
He looks so young, like he hasn’t a care or worry in the world. He’s free. He has the largest smile on his face, fist bumping the air, splashing beer out of the bottle, and trying to sing along to the lyrics.
In this moment, there is no fear.
No judgment.
No outsiders.
No cancer.
Everyone is equal.
It’s about being free.
It’s about letting it all go.
Moving closer to Parker, I throw my hands in the air and move gently on tiptoe with the beat of the drums. I’m worried about jumping too much and causing my wig to fall backward. I yell and cheer with everyone else, making the occasional discrete wig check.
I can see Parker watching me with a look of lust. Closing my eyes, I let the music take over.
I forget about yesterday.
I don’t think about tomorrow.
I’m just Aundrea.
I’m free.
Chapter Twelve
I hate small talk. Talking about the weather, school, local events … it’s all boring. It’s information to pass the time. I’d rather say, “Hi, I’m fine, thanks, bye.” But I can’t do that with my parents. Especially my mom.
“School is fine, Mom. I have a laid back instructor who lets us work at our own pace.”
“Your own pace? What kind of class is this?”
“It’s online, Mom. The first day he posted the schedule and assignments, allowing us to work ahead if we want.”
“Work ahead? So you’re teaching yourself? What kind of school is this?”
“Mom, it’s fine. A lot of online classes are more chill. It’s why we take them.” Hey, I’m only being honest. Everyone is a procrastinator from time to time. That’s why online classes are so great.
“Well, I don’t like it. I’m thinking about the loans you’ll have and for what? For a class where the teacher doesn’t even teach?”
“Mom, he does. He still posts lectures that we have to listen to in order to get the credit. It’s fine. I assure you.”
“If you say so. How is everything else going? Jason’s not overworking you is he? Because I can have your dad talk to him.”
“No, he’s fine. I’m barely there, to be honest.”
“And you’re feeling better?”
Feeling better? Am I?
“Yeah, of course. Everything is good.” I can see my reflection in the sliding glass doors off the patio. There are dark purple bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep. I get maybe three hours a night. The pain in my joints is becoming too uncomfortable, and the pain medication isn’t helping. I try to muffle my cries with my pillow, but I have a feeling Genna hears them.
“Good. I’m glad, honey. Dad and I took a couple weeks off, so we can be with you for your last two treatments.” My parents tried to make it up on the weekends, like we talked about, but the timing never worked.
“Sounds good.” What else am I supposed to say? Great! Let’s make it a party!
“What else is new? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in weeks.”
Days. It’s been two days.
“Nothing is new, Mom.”
“Did you tell her about Parker? Tell her about Parker!” Genna calls from somewhere in the house. I’m sitting on the chaise lounge outside on the new patio Jason made for her. It’s beautiful: dark red brick with red-cushioned furniture, a small outdoor fireplace, and a built in grill. He even had a canopy custom-made to cover the entire patio so they could sit outside in the shade. It’s beautiful. I could sit out here all day in the peace and quiet.
“Who’s Parker?” my mom asks. Her voice has lifted, and I can hear her shuffling in her seat. My guess is to get comfortable.
A crisp breeze washes over me and I shiver. I love this weather: cool, fresh, and calming. It’s perfect sweatshirt and sweatpants weather. For being the beginning of October, it’s ideal.
“No one, Mom.”
“He’s not no one. Tell her,” Genna says as she joins me. She shuffles her way next to me on the chaise, making me scoot over to the edge. I have a light blanket covering my lap and she snuggles right in, handing me a glass of hot chocolate with marshmallows.
“Aundrea! Who is he?” She’s practically screaming at me through the phone.
Who is Parker? A friend.
A man I slept with once.
A man I’m spending time with.
A man I enjoy spending time with.
A man who makes me laugh.
A man who makes me feel alive.
A man who makes me forget about the shit I have going on.
“He’s a guy I met. He works with Jason. We’re just hanging out. It’s no big deal.” Keep telling yourself that.
“No big deal? I wouldn’t call multiple dates no big deal.” Genna pushes.