What's Left of Me

Sliding off his lap, I scoot away from him, putting a good distance between us. With his hands still covering his face, I take the time to run my hands over my hair, making sure it’s not falling to one side.

Just as I’m sure it’s where it should be, Parker looks at me with a sly grin. “You’re just too damn tempting, woman. You have no idea.”

I blush. I never thought of myself as tempting, but it sounds good coming from him.

“I think I should go. Can you drive me home?”

“Sure.” He stands up, adjusting himself as he does. I can’t help but smile, knowing he’s still hard from me.

“Hey, baby?”

“Yes?” Since when did I start answering to the pet names?

“About the date, to the show?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s only one condition.”

He helps me to a standing position before continuing.

“What’s that?”

“You have to go on another date with me. My choice.”

“When?”

“When I ask. You can’t think or question it.”

“I don’t know, Parker.” I can’t make commitments. With my treatments it’s hard to make any plans, let alone follow through on them.

“Please?”

“I’ll try.”

“I’ll take that.” He grabs my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to each of them.

“What did you have in mind?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says, releasing my hand back into my lap.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Life is full of surprises.” No shit.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

“How fun is it to go through life knowing what’s going to happen?”

His words are true. The average person doesn’t want to go through life knowing everything that is going to happen to them. They like spontaneity. That’s hard for me, though. The last four years of my life have been nothing but surprises, and not welcome ones.

Surprise, you have cancer! Surprise, you need surgery! Surprise, your chemo didn’t work! Surprise, your cancer came back! Surprise, you have to be admitted to the hospital … again. Surprise, second round failed. Surprise, you need a bone marrow transplant! Oh, wait, surprise! That means you need more chemo!

Yeah, fucking surprises. They’re great.

“I just hate not knowing. The waiting. The anticipation.” It’s always the waiting for that surprise! that kills me. Literally.

“The anticipation is worth the wait, babe.”

Chapter Eleven

I tell Jean that Parker and I will be at her place around six, but she insists on meeting at the restaurant instead, saying something about her place looking more like a male strip club than your typical innocent sorority house. Without hesitation, I agree. I’m not a prude, but I don’t need to see women grinding on men in the living room as if it’s their personal stage.

Two weeks after moving into her dorm, Jean got asked to move into her sorority house. She would have been silly to turn it down. The only problem, from what she’s told me, is that there are parties there every day, no matter the time. And not the kind of parties you’d invite your parents to.

Just before Parker picks me up, she sends me a text reminding me to wear something sexy. In her eyes, this means as short a dress as possible. In my eyes, it means dark skinny jeans, a black tank top with a jeweled skull on the front that I borrowed from Genna, black ballerina flats, silver hoops, and a long, black, studded necklace.

I offered to drive to the twin cities, but in true gentleman form, Parker wouldn’t have anything of the sort.

Parker and I spend the evening prior talking on the phone. I feel like I’m sixteen again, having butterflies and the excitement of something new. I didn’t think I could be that girl again: the girl who lies on her stomach with her feet in the air, kicking back and forth while she giggles into the phone.

He tells me a little bit about his family, and I tell him even less about mine. He knows just the questions to ask and the ones to stay away from. When he brings up my true passion, reading, he can’t get me to shut up, and he laughs at my enthusiasm. I can’t pick a favorite book, explaining that it’s not about what or who is the best, but rather the story itself. Each book is different and unique, bringing out the best emotions in me. I love getting pulled out of reality—away from the reminders of my pain.

When I tell him I read at least three books a week, he’s astonished. The only thing I can say in response is my favorite quote by Madeleine L’Engle.

“A book, too, can be a star, a living fire to lighten the darkness, leading out into the expanding universe.”

That sums it all up for me.

Tapping my foot against the seat to the beat of the music, I can’t get Wednesday out of my head. My drugs are being changed to something stronger for my last two rounds. Dr. Olson explained that in order to get my body prepared for the blood cells to be transferred back, I will need two different rounds of drugs, with the last two being the strongest. All I took from that was the word strongest. That means intense symptoms—or, worse, new ones.

I’ll get through. I always do. But I’m not sure I’m ready to give up my time with Parker.

“What are you thinking about?” Parker asks, breaking my stare out the window. He’s wearing a blue and brown polo shirt and jeans, with his hair gelled just the way I like—messy, but sexy.

“Nothing important.” Trying to figure out how to spend time with you while being sick. “You?”

“This week. Do you have class Wednesday?”

“Yeah. I won’t be in the rest of the week. Maybe not the following one either.”

“Why not next week?”

“I have a test and a project due that I need to spend some time on.” That’s kind of the truth. I do have a test and a project, but it’s not due for another three weeks, so I have plenty of time to procrastinate.

“Hmm. Well, you might need a dinner or movie break. You know, to clear your head.”

“Yeah, I think I might.” I give him a hopeful smile.

Or maybe it’s for myself.

Parker reaches over, taking my hand in his. We stay like that for the rest of the ride.

The restaurant is a small Mexican place with a mariachi band moving from table to table. Jean and her date haven’t arrived yet, but we’re seated right away.

“Are you coming to the Halloween benefit for The Love of Paws?”

“I didn’t know anything about it?”

“Really? I was sure Genna would have mentioned it to you.”

“No, she didn’t.” She probably figures I’ll be at home, curled up with my Kindle and not feeling well. That’s one of the hard things I have to deal with. People going out, having parties, and attending fun events without me. I’ve become a forgotten soul. Someone who will likely be too sick to go, so they don’t even bother inviting me.

“It’s two weeks before Halloween. Saturday. I can’t remember the date offhand. Nineteenth? Eighteenth, maybe?” He laughs at himself. “You’d think because it’s our benefit I would remember the damn date. Anyway, it’s at the Landon Hotel and costumes are required. We’ll have door prizes, silent auctions, a live band, drinks, and dinner. Bryn mentioned something about a contest for best male and female costumes, too. It should be a fun night! All proceeds go toward the practice.”

“Bryn?” Yes, I had to go there. Why is she suggesting ideas for their benefit?

“The benefit was all Bryn’s idea.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun.” Of course a beautiful girl like her would have a great idea like that. She comes across as the type of girl who needs to be the center of attention in all that she does. It wouldn’t surprise me if she went in a bra and thong to channel her inner Lady Gaga.

“What do you say?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

He laughs. “To going? With me?”

Did he really ask me that? I must have been so caught up in my thoughts about Bryn that I wasn’t paying attention.

“Oh. Um.” I count the dates in my head. That would be the weekend right after my last chemo treatment. No wonder Genna didn’t tell me about it. She knew I would be too sick to go. “Maybe. I’m not sure what my school schedule will be like. That’s right around mid-semester break, so I might have a big test or a project to do.”

I’m disappointed. I really want to go to the benefit. Halloween is my favorite holiday. Costumes, parties, decorating; it’s all entertaining to me. I’ve never missed a year of dressing up. I even went as Uncle Fester one year. It was the only time I went out in public with no hair. No one looked at me as if I was sick or like I didn’t belong. My mom did my makeup to make it look as if I was wearing a bald cap. It was one of my favorite Halloweens.

Jean arrives, saving me from the conversation. The guy next to her is not quite my height. He’s got sandy blond hair and dark chocolate brown eyes.

“Sorry we’re late!”

“It’s okay.”

Bending down, she gives me a brief hug before introducing me to the guy she’s with. After learning his name is Tristan and exchanging greetings, I introduce her to Parker.

“Ah, the famous Parker. It’s so good to finally meet you. I can’t get Dre to shut up about you.” She’s teasing, but it causes Parker to sit up taller.

Looking my way, he gives me wink. “She seems to like making me the topic of conversation. Which is good because I can’t shut up or stop thinking about her, either.”

My eyes widen at his words, as do Jean’s.

“Oh my God,” she sighs next to me, her eyes glistening at his words.

I look back at Parker and our eyes lock. Searching them, I look for anything that says he’s joking. Something that says his words don’t have much meaning behind them. I need them to say we’re just friends, nothing more, but I don’t see that. Instead, I see a guy who I’m developing feelings for, and who, I know, returns them.

We finish our dinner quickly, then pile in one car together to save on parking. I can tell Jean really likes Parker; she taps my leg or grabs my hand when he says something she likes. Which is almost everything.

Walking into Tainted, Jean and I are stopped immediately to show our I.Ds. The bouncer ushers Tristan and Parker through without even a look.

After I get my stamp of approval on the inside of my right wrist, Parker takes my hand and leads the way into the three-story night club. We find a small table against the metal railing that overlooks the dance floor directly across from the stage.

The dance floor is considered to be on the first floor, but really it’s sunken down by a few steps. There is a large staircase on either side of the club leading to the third level where there are more round tables.

Parker motions for me to take a seat, but Jean tugs on my free hand. “Hey, we’re going to go get drinks. Save our spot!” she yells over my shoulder to the guys.