“I know.” She steps around me, getting her own water out of the fridge. “But what fun would that be?” she says with a smile.

As she leaves the kitchen, she calls out behind her, “It’s okay if you love him.”

Walking quickly to catch up with her, I reply, “I know, but I don’t.”

“Not even a little?”

“Nope.”

Maybe. Yes?

“Liar.”

I’ve never been in love. I thought I loved Adam, but who isn’t in love when they’re seventeen? There is so much meaning to the word that I’m not even sure those who say it really fully understand the power behind it.

It’s more than just passion.

Love is handing yourself over to someone. It’s being able to trust them by giving them full access to your everything. Even if that means allowing them to break your heart.

I want to give Parker my heart. I just don’t know if I can handle him breaking it.

Jean gathers her clothes and heads off to take a shower before bed, which is my cue to slip into mine.

While I’m getting into my pajamas my phone vibrate, again.

I wait until I’ve crawled into her warm bed and pulled the comforter all the way to my neck before checking it. It can only be one of three people: Parker, Genna, or Mom.

Genna: Parker showed up a while ago. He came for poker, but I could tell he was looking for you the entire time. He seems really mad. He was asking me a lot of questions. Call him!

When I’m about to throw my phone, it buzzes with another text. This time from Parker.

Mr. Handsome: What is going on? Why are you ignoring me? Genna said you went to Jean’s to get away. From what? Me?

Me: Parker, I’m sorry.

It’s all I can think of to say right now.

Mr. Handsome: For what?

Mr. Handsome: Quitting the clinic? Or ignoring me?

Me: I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I told you that. I think we need to pull back for a while. I’m sorry.

Mr. Handsome: Pull back? What happened to change your mind? What aren’t you telling me?!

Me: I just need some time. I can’t breathe.

It’s the truth; I can’t. But not because of him. Because of everything else in my life.

Mr. Handsome: I’ll give you some space, but this is not over.

I don’t reply. I don’t know what I want. I don’t want to end anything. I just want to think about how to tell him. I throw my phone on the floor.

I miss him.

Jean walks in wearing her maroon and gold university sweats. Her hair is sitting high on top of her head in a messy bun, and her contacts are replaced with glasses.

“Whoa … What happened?”

Sliding over in bed, I make room for her to scoot in next to me.

“I miss him,” I say, staring at the ceiling.

“I’d hate to see what you do when you miss me.”

I roll my eyes.

“Call him. Tell him everything is fine, and make plans to see him when you get home, then tell him everything.”

“I can’t call him right now.”

“Yes, you can. It’s like riding a bike. You pick up the phone, scroll through your contacts, and find the number next to the name Parker.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“You deserve to be happy, Aundrea. You know I’ll support you in any decision, but it’s not fair to make a decision for him based on what you think he’ll say or do.” I listen to her words and know every one of them is true. “You need to tell him. Let him make the decision if he stays or goes. You’ll learn real fast what kind of man he is.”

I know I want to give my heart to him. Just the sound of his voice, the deep rumbles that move through my body when he laughs, or the butterflies I get with just one look. The little finger locks, knee bumps, winks, and temple kisses. They’re all things I miss. I miss him. How just a thought of him can make me weak in the knees. There’s more than just an attraction. He cares so much about others, life, and family. I’ve never met someone so passionate about saving the world one animal at a time. I love his ability to make me laugh and forget everything around me. He’s become my reason to want to get better.

Someone once told me that it’s not about whether there is life after you die, but whether you’re alive before you die. I didn’t believe I could ever feel alive again. Not until Parker.

Chapter Eighteen

I’m sitting on the couch talking to my parents when the doorbell rings, followed by knocking.

Jean drove me home Tuesday afternoon. She convinced me—or maybe I convinced myself—to come back and confront the piece of my life I’ve been trying so hard to avoid. We stayed up well into the morning talking about our fears, life, high school, and even parts of our future. She reminded me of how I’ve never wanted cancer to run my life, and I was doing just that by walking away from Parker.

I promised myself I would tell him.

When I was ready.

“Can someone get that for me?” Genna calls from upstairs.

“Yeah!” I yell back.

Making my way out of the living room, I head into the foyer to open the door. Unfortunately for me, Genna and Jason have a window next to their front door, so whoever is there can see in. And, in this case, it’s Parker who can see me walking toward him.

My hands move to the head wrap that is securely in place instead of the wig that has become itchier with each passing day. I reach the edges, trying to pull it further down, as if it’s not already covering every inch of my hairless scalp.