“It should be called intermission. Like they have in plays. Or, like, TV shows when they have the mid-season breaks. It’s like the diagnosis and the chemo are the first half of the season. Then the intermission comes and you’re just sitting there waiting for the next appointment. And it’s like… oh yay, the show ended well, you’re cancer free. Or, it can be like, oh a cliffhanger… the cancer’s still there. Sorry. And then you have to wait for the next season and the first half is just a fucking recap of everything from the previous season until another fucking intermission. And then you wait for the outcome and it still might not end—it can still be a cliffhanger. I fucking hate cliffhangers.” She rolls her head to the side and looks at me. “And I fucking hate cancer.”

“Fire truck cancer,” I tell her.

She smiles. “Fire truck it right in the ass.” She pounds her fist on the hood. “With this car.”

“With a fire truck.”

She laughs. “Fire truck it with a fire truck, right in the ass.”

“We’re so high.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs. Then moves closer and settles her head on my chest. “Hey Josh?”

“Yeah Chloe?”

And I’ll never forget what she says next; “There’s a big difference between being happy and being selfish. Choose to be happy. Fire truck the rest.”

26

-Joshua-

I wake up in bed, my head throbbing, and I try to remember, or maybe forget, last night. Something warm rubs against my leg and I flinch and pull away, looking to my side. Hunter’s in my bed, his head resting on his outstretched arm. “Morning, Princess.”

I jump up and as far away from him as possible. “What the fire truck!”

“You were so good last night,” he says, puckering his lips and blowing me a kiss. “Best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re weird.”

He smiles. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Apologizing to everyone until I’m blue in the face.”

“Who first?”

I start to respond but sirens blaring interrupt me. I wait for them to pass but they just get louder.

“Josh!” Chloe yells from the living room.

I run out of the bedroom and go to her. She’s looking out the window and I do the same and the first thing I see are two paramedics jumping out of the ambulance. My heart stops. I slip on my shoes and point at Tommy. “Keep him away,” I tell Chloe and she nods and carries him to his room.

My stomach in knots, I race down the stairs. “What happened?” I ask the paramedics. “Stay there, sir,” one says, and the only thing I can think is that something’s happened to Chazarae. I try to move, but my feet are glued to the ground and every single breath is a struggle.

More sirens.

Cops this time.

An officer approaches and stands in front of me while another runs inside. The officer’s mouth’s moving but I can’t hear what he’s saying.

“Chazarae! Becca!”

Finally, my feet come back to life and I try to run inside but arms around my waist stop me from going any further. The officer speaks again but I can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in my ears.

I see Blake.

I see an officer.

And then I see a paramedic, his hands gripping the end of a stretcher. I see feet on the end of it and breathe out Chaz’s name. And then I see her. But she’s standing, walking next to the stretcher. Her shoulders shake. Her tears fall fast.

Then I look down.

And I see her.

“BECCA!”

27

-Joshua-

Chazarae doesn’t let me ride with them so Blake drives me to the hospital.

“Rebecca Owens,” I tell the nurse at the desk.

She types on the computer, her eyes darting from side to side. All while I feel like I’m dying from fear of the unknown. “She’s just been admitted, sweetheart,” she says, her eyes full of pity as she looks up at me. “Are you family?”

I almost say that I’m her boyfriend, but then I realize I’m not. I’m nothing. I check her nametag, hoping if I’m more personal it might help my cause. “No, Nurse Ruby. I’m not.”

She smiles but it matches the pity in her eyes. “You’re welcome to wait.”

As if I’d be doing anything else.

“Come on, man.” Hunter grabs my arm and leads me to the waiting room chairs. I watch the seconds tick by, my heart never slowing. Every fifteen minutes I get up and ask the same nurse the same question. I want to know what the fuck happened and if she’s okay. The nurse’s answer is always the same. She can’t give me much information but as soon as she can she will. I thank her. Because she could be an asshole and tell me to fuck off, but she doesn’t. Then I sit back down, wait fifteen minutes and do it all over again. Hunter stays by my side, never leaving. “You can go,” I tell him.

His smile matches the nurses. “Always we, Josh,” is all he says.

And that’s all it takes for me to break.

Three hours I’ve been sitting in the waiting room, living through the questions racing in my mind. I’ve stayed quiet, stayed as calm as I can. And now—now I lose it.

He stays silent, his hand on my shoulder as I cry into my hands.

“I’m sorry, Hunter.”

“Me too, Warden. For everything.” After a sigh, he asks, “Do you want to talk about? The shit with your dad?”

“Not now.”

“You should, though, with someone. Anyone. You can’t keep that shit bottled inside. I don’t think your skateboards can handle it anymore.”

I’d forgotten about the boards. “Fuck.”

Hunter shakes my shoulder and points to the door. Rob and Kim walk in, their eyes frantic as they search the room.

“Rob,” I call out. “What are you doing here?”

His shoulders drop with his heavy exhale. They rush toward me. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. How did you—”

“We dropped by the house and Chloe told us you were here and… Jesus fucking Christ, Josh. I’m sorry. Do you know anything?”

“Nothing.”

“Have you asked?”

I ignore his question because it’s stupid and it doesn’t deserve an answer. “I’m sorry about the truck.”

“Fuck the truck, Josh, who gives a shit? I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

He sits down on the other side of me. “Clearly.”

“I don’t want to deal with it right now,” I say, my voice rising. “I just need to focus on Becca. Please. Just let me do that.”

Kim disappears for a few minutes and returns with coffees for everyone. “I heard one of the nurses talking. It’s one of their busiest days. A lot of idiots partying too hard to celebrate the New Year. A lot of overdoses and alcohol poisoning.” She sits down next to Robby.

And we wait.

Seconds turn to minutes. Minutes turn to hours. And my heart never slows.

“Josh?” Nurse Ruby calls.

I jump up from my seat, so do the others. “Is she okay?” I ask once I’m at the desk.