Authors: D.nichole King
Damian nodded apologetically. “Kate’s needed me.”
“Hi, Kate!”
I ruffled his head, where small bits of brown hair poked up now. “You did good.”
“You will too.” Brennan took me by the hand and tugged me into the room. “We’re having a
Mario Kart
tournament. You’ve gotta sign up.”
“Me?” I scrunched up my nose. “I’m not sure.”
“Oh, come on,” Brennan begged. “You’ll be an easy win.”
Damian snorted behind me. I glared at him over my shoulder.
“Please? You’ll only have to race once before you lose. Well, unless you play my mom. Then you might have a shot.” His puppy eyes pleaded with me. “Please?”
I sighed and put my name on the list. Damian followed suit, and Brennan clapped his hands in delight.
“This is gonna be awesome!”
“Right,” I muttered.
Bouncing on his toes, he ran off to greet his other guests—and convince them to sign up, no doubt.
“How are you feeling, Katie?” Leslie’s hand touched my shoulder.
I gave her a hug. “I’ve been better. This brings back memories,” I said, scanning the room.
“I was really hoping to throw you a third remission party,” she said.
“Maybe you’ll be throwing me a successful transplant-party, instead.”
Leslie dropped he
r gaze to the floor. “That’d be nice.”
She nodded at Damian before she walked away.
Damian led me to one of the tables covered in a blue plastic tablecloth. We sipped punch and ate nuts, watching the party guests and waiting for our names to be called for the Wii tournament.
As Brennan so accurately predicted, I lost my one and only match—against Tammy! Damian, of course, won his first match-up against a twelve-year old bald girl with a yellow headband. I slugged him on the shoulder.
“What?” he said, an eyebrow quirked.
During his second round, my
stomach started to churn. Waiting until he was well into his race against one of the nurses, I slipped out of The Commons and hurried to the bathroom. I pushed open a stall door and fell to my knees, throwing up into the toilet.
A hand rubbed my back. I didn’t
have to look up to see who it was; I’ve known her touch since I was eleven.
When my stomach was empty, I dropped on my butt, leaning up against the side of the stall. Leslie handed me a glass of water.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I rinsed my mouth and spit into the toilet.
“Katie,” Leslie said, her eyes focused inside the porcelain.
I shifted my
gaze, and my heart lurched.
Blood.
I stared at it, understanding. “Don’t tell Damian, okay?”
Leslie shook her head. “Katie, I can’t just ignore this.”
I nodded, my attention not leaving the scarlet-stained water. “I’m not asking you to. Just not Damian.”
Pulling
out her cell, Leslie dialed and held it up to her ear. “Dr. Lowell, are you here yet? Good. Come to the girls’ bathroom. And be discreet.”
Not two minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and Dr. Lowell knelt beside us in the too-cramped stall.
He glanced into the toilet then at me. I’m sure my face was as white as the hospital bed sheets.
Dr. Lowell sighed.
“It’s happening, isn’t it?” My voice trembled.
Dr. Lowell nodded, his fist pressed against his mouth. Then he did something he’s never done before: He wrapped his arms around me.
“I guess this means another pill?” I asked into his shirt. He smelled like Damian.
“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
I looked up at him. “Prom. I have to make it to prom.”
Dr. Lowell nodded. “I’ll do everything in my power.”
We went back to the party in shifts so as to not alert anyone.
“Where were you?” Damian demanded as soon as I entered The Commons.
I kissed his cheek. “Little girl’s room.” I winked, and his shoulders fell.
“Let me know next time,
all right? I was worried.” He led me back to our table, and I laid my head in my arms.
The
Mario Kart
tournament came down to Brennan and Damian. A look of understanding passed between them before they began their five-race final. After each one, Damian’s head pivoted in my direction. I smiled, and he went back to his game.
For the last race, Damian and Brennan were tied two-two. Silence spread over The Commons as all
eyes were on the 60 inch television hanging on the wall. On the last lap, Brennan hunched over a little further, determined. Damian had a mischievous grin on his face, and I was sure that on the last corner, Damian slipped off the track on purpose, allowing Brennan to pass him and roll over the finish line first.
The room exploded in cheers and applause as Damian scooped Brennan up on his shoulders. Damian jogged around the room, and everyone gave Brennan high fives as he passed.
Soon after, the blue cake was cut and Damian sat down with a piece for himself and one for me.
I took a bite before dumping the rest on Damian’s plate. Ignoring
the look on his face, I asked, “You let him win, didn’t you?”
Damian couldn’t keep a straight face. “Yeah.”
I laughed. “You didn’t even try to lie.”
“What’s the point? You know anyway.”
“You made his day,” I said, nodding in Brennan’s direction.
“He deserves it.”
As the party wore down, guests trickled out, and I slumped down on the sofa. Damian had promised Tammy he’d help clean up. My head had begun to pound after the trip to the bathroom, but it wasn’t bad enough to call it a night yet.
Brennan sat down next to me, a
huge smile on his face.
“Did you see me beat your boyfriend?”
“I sure did. Nice job!” I gave him a fist-bump.
Brennan’s smile faded. “Are you okay, Kate?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Hey, I’ve got something for you,” I said, digging in my purse. Finding the white envelope, I handed it to him. “You have to promise me something though.”
Brennan nodded. “Okay.”
“No thank-you's.”
Brennan’s brows knit together. “Why?”
“Because thank-you's are like good-byes.”
“Okay,” he drawled out.
“Don’t open it here.”
“Okay.”
“And send Damian a picture.”
Again, confusion glazed over his boyish face.
I laughed. “You’ll understand when you open it.”
Brennan gave me a hug which was better than any
“thank you.”
I curled up on the sofa, my head on a pillow that Damian brought me. Damian’s gaze shot in my direction every few minutes, and when it did, I offered a reassuring
smile. The headache was getting worse by the second, and by the time the party ended, it had overtaken me.
The lights in the room blurred into fragments of gold, and the people were no more than fuzz. I tried to tell Damian I wanted to leave, but I’m not sure how far I got. Somehow, I still caught the fear in Damian’s eyes before I fainted.
April 23
Dear Diary,
Sorry I haven’t written much. I’ve been so tired lately. I’m not going to golf practice, and I can only handle one class a day.
Tonight, though, is prom. And I feel like crap.
I’ve doused myself in meds and slept all day, determined to make this night special for Damian. I have a promise to keep.
He’ll be here at six. I guess it’s show time.
Showering went much faster without hair. After drying off, I slathered amber lotion over every inch of skin to cover up how pale I’d gotten. Dressed in a strapless bra and panties, I slipped on a pair of shorts and a button-up shirt to avoid getting blush on my dress.
I sat in front of the vanity, taking extra care with my makeup. Uncapping the black eyeliner, I squinted into the mirror. I always had problems putting this stuff
on, but after wiping it off twice, I finally made the lines flawless above my lashes. Mom had bought me metallic eye shadow to match my dress. With three coats of mascara, the silver really stood out.
I rounded my lips with pink lip gloss then stuffed it in my purse for later. Studying my reflectio
n, I added an extra coat of concealer under my eyes and tossed the compact in my purse too.
My headache
began to disappear as I imagined Damian and me dancing. I unzipped the garment bag, the waves at the bottom of my dress poured out, cascading over the top. Gently, I pulled the dress off the hanger and held it up to my chest. I twirled, the skirt flowing out around me. I couldn’t wait to get it on. When someone tapped on my door, I laid the dress back on the bed and sat down.
“Come in,” I said, running my fingers over the material.
My mother held the last piece of the ensemble in her hand.
“What do you think?” she asked, admiring her work. She spun it around so I could see it from all sides.
I broke into a grin. “I think you’ve outdone yourself.”
She set her masterpiece on the vanity and scurried over to pick up the gown. “Come on,
princess. Gotta get you ready for the ball.”
I laughed and kicked off my shorts. It took me a while to get the buttons unfastened, but when I did, I threw the shirt on the floor and ducked under the gown Mom held up for me. With my arms raised above my head, I emerged out of the top, the bodice settling in place. She zipped up the side and stepped back to examine me.
“Absolutely magnificent,” she said.
Her special pumps sat on the floor at my feet. I held onto the mattress with one hand for balance as she slipped them over my French-tipped toes and fastened them in the back.
Giddy, she took the final piece from the vanity and danced over to me. Her smile widened with each step.
I took a deep breath and sat on the bed. Mom crawled behind me and placed the wig on my bald head. The color was impeccable, matching my once-there auburn locks exactly. Then, she slipped off the bed and stood in front of me. She clasped her hands, her face lighting up.
“Oh, Katie!”
She led me to the full length mirror behind the door. I barely recognized myself. The wig had ringlets piled on top, and whips of bangs hanging over my forehead. A few curls swirled down, touching my shoulders. Pearls on bobby pins stuck out through the mass like glittering snowflakes.
“Mom!” I gasped. “It’s…it’s
gorgeous
.”
She leaned across me, kissing my cheek. “No,
you’re
gorgeous.”
Slowly, I faced her. She was glowing, and I realized how much this moment meant to her. As I wrapped my arms around her neck, my heart sunk. Again my thoughts went to how much she’d given up for me.
A small knock sounded at my door. “Katie?” Damian’s voice sent ripples of excitement down my spine.
“I’ll be done in a minute,” I answered. “Wait downstairs.”
“Do you need help—”
“No. I want to do it by myself.”
I let go of my mom, her mascara running down her face.
“Thank you, Mom,” I said.
She covered her mouth with her hand, inhaling a sigh. “I love you, baby.”
I let her open the door for me. She wiped her cheeks and headed toward the stairs. A few steps down, she glanced over her shoulder and blew me a kiss.
I took a deep breath, brushed my hands over the flounce in the skirt, and pictured Damian’s expression in my mind. It had been a long time since he’d seen me with hair, and I couldn’t wait for his jaw to drop open. The wig already itched, but it was a small price to pay.
I stood at the top of the stairs
staring down at the three pairs of eyes beaming up at me. The night of the Christmas date swirled in my mind. Descending, I held onto the rail, fearful I’d trip over the small train rolling behind me. I squinted through the flashes exploding from my mother’s camera, trying to make out the look on Damian’s face.
When I reached the bottom, I saw
the pride in my father’s eyes. He took my hand and kissed my cheek.
“You
look beautiful, sweetheart,” he choked out.
He patted the top of my hand before placing it into Damian’s.
Damian shifted his gaze to the floor before meeting mine. A hint of disappointment glazed over his eyes—not what I’d imagined. He slipped a corsage of white roses and baby’s breath over my wrist.
“Your dress…wow! I…” He pursed his lips together.
“You don’t clean up half-bad, yourself,” I said, brushing nothing off the shoulder of his black tux.
“We’d better get going, or we’ll miss our dinner reservation.”
Damian shot a nod toward my parents and walked with me out to the limo.
“You sure you’re feeling up to this tonight?” he asked
once inside.
Puzzled that he hadn’t mentioned my hair, I nodded
and stared out the window.
He sighed. “You
look amazing.”
I nodded again. “You said that…sort of.”
After a few moments of silence, he drew my face to him, peering into my eyes. “I thought you hated wigs.”
I glanced at the floor. “I do, but I wanted to
look perfect, for you.”
Damian lifted
my chin. “Oh, baby.”
Putting his hand behind my head, he kissed me. With his other one, he
pulled the wig off my head. He kissed my forehead, then sat back, admiring the view. A wide grin spread over his face.
“Here,” he said, reaching for the sack next to him. He drew out an iridescent butterfly and a small plastic tube.
“What’s that?”
Damian puffed a laugh. “I saw this on YouTube; let’s hope it works.”
He unscrewed the lid and placed a streak of clear glue on the backside of the butterfly.
“Well,” he hummed, examining me. He placed the butterfly on my head, just above my ear. Sitting back a little, he nodded. “
Now
you look perfect.”
How is he mine?
Then I did something I’d never done before. Heat coursing through me, I took his face in both hands and crushed my mouth to his. Surprised, he stiffened a little before relaxing. I separated his lips with my tongue, then moved to straddle him in the backseat of the limo.
He chuckled. “I’m not sure if we have that much time, Kate.”
I leaned into him, my head resting on his shoulder, and my lips pressed against his neck. My energy had drained that quickly. He held me close all the way to the restaurant, his fingers leaving trails of warmth over my bare shoulders.
At the Principal Building, Damian took my hand. Heads
turned as the hostess led us to our table. Damian nodded in their direction, and I giggled.
“They think you’re as dazzling as I do.” His breath tickled my ear.
Conceding to my request of sharing a meal, Damian ordered for himself, and I ate his salad and a few bites of steak. It was more than I’d eaten in days.
After dinner,
Mr. Dempsy drove us to the Marriot Hotel downtown. Dr. Jackson Lowell was waiting by the double doors, a camera in hand.
“Hey, Dad. Glad you could make it,” Damian said, slapping his father on the back.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jackson replied. “You look stunning, Kate.”
“Thank you,” I said,
glancing up at Damian. Lights from over the Des Moines River flickered in his blue irises.
We posed for a few more pictures, then Damian shook his father’s hand. Jackson embraced me, and kissed me on the cheek. Since Brennan’s party, I had stopped viewing Dr. Lowell as my doctor, and more as my boyfriend’s father. Well, actually, more than that. Like a second father. The proud
gleam in his eye made me think that the feeling was mutual.
The ballroom swarmed with every color of the rainbow, from the gowns to the pulsing lights of the band. Tables surrounded the dance floor, glowing with flameless candles and purple bouquets.
Already, my eyelids began to droop. Damian found a table and pulled me onto his lap. I cuddled up to him, resting my head on his shoulder.
A few members of the golf team came over to say hello, but they didn’t stay long. I assumed I was making them uncomfortable.
“It’s good to see you here, Kate,” Lizzie, the girl’s captain said.
“Thank you.”
Her eyes drifted to Damian and held his gaze for a second too long. He offered her a small nod, his lips curling between his teeth.
Lizzie continued as if nothing had happened. “We could have used your score on Tuesday.”
“You pulled it out, though, didn’t you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Barely. You two have a nice evening.”
“Yeah, you too,” I said as she walked away.
I glanced at my date. “What was that about?”
“What was what about?”
“That…thing. Between you and Lizzie.”
“I didn’t know there was a thing.” The corner of Damian’s mouth lifted, a dimple winking at me.
I narrowed my eyes at him, but he just laughed and held me tighter. We watched the band and the students dancing. Everyone
seemed so happy; they’d dance all night without a care in the world.
The
band started to play a slow song, and Damian nestled his nose in my neck. “Dance with me?”
I couldn’t let him down. “Sure.”
He led me to the middle of the dance floor and held me close as we swayed to the music. I closed my eyes. I didn’t know the song; it didn’t matter anyway. Damian’s heartbeat was enough. I didn’t even notice when the music stopped.
“Katie?” Damian said.
I opened my eyes and peered up at him.
He didn’t say anything; he just nodded to someone off to the right. I followed his gaze and sucked in a lungful of air. The dance floor was empty. Everyone had formed a rectangle around the edge of the wood.
Suddenly, a few of the students created a small opening on the far side, and both the girls’ and boys’ golf teams, our coach, and a few teachers walked out, creating a circle around us. Lights bounced off the skin of their heads where the hair should have been. I covered my mouth with my hand, unable to stop the tears.
Damian cupped my shoulders from behind me. “See? You were never invisible.”
The ring of people sat down on the floor holding hands, and the band began to play. I stared at each person in the circle. I’d never known! They smiled at me, their expressions warm.
The band began to play a familiar song, and I turned to discover Damian standing beside me, holding a microphone.
There are no reasons
That you’re searching for
I haven’t left that door open long
Please don’t stop skimming
I nee
d your understanding
I need you to make sure that I land on my feet
Tell me that you love me
Tell me that you want me
Tell me that the world’s not over me
The world’s not over me
You’ll find me
In my hiding place
At least I’ll pray for you
I’m not sure if you’ll follow through but if you do
I’ll be waiting for you
To tell me that you love me
That you hate that the world
Isn’t over me
The world’s not over me
When he finished, the students cheered and applauded. Damian smiled at me, moisture glistening in his eyes too. He swept me into his arms. After he put me down, the golfers surrounded me, patting my shoulders and giving me hugs.
Overwhelmed by the attention, I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I tried to thank everyone, but I couldn’t speak. Damian helped me back to our table before I buckled into his arms.