“No, I’m good,” she replies, insisting that she stand with me. “Seriously, Cade. If I wanted someone analysing my every move, I would’ve brought my sister. Please, for the sake of my sanity, chill out.”
“Okay, I’ll back off, so long as you promise you’ll tell me if you aren’t coping.”
“Deal.” She grins. She links her arm in mine. I’m trying not to notice how flushed her cheeks are, but the medical student in me knows she has a temperature. “I guess this is really happening, huh?”
I chuckle, raising my eyebrows. “It’s taken you to the boarding gate to realise this is real?”
“I guess I’m not used to things playing out the way I want them to.” She shrugs, handing our boarding passes to the gate agent in front of us. She scans them and wishes us a safe flight. We make our way down the corridor, towards the plane. “I’m waiting for something to go wrong, like it always does.”
I smile. Another thing we have in common.
This should be interesting, if nothing else.
Chapter Ten
Cade
Repositioning myself in my cramped seat, I glance over at Erin. She’s asleep, with her head resting on a pillow against the window. Her long blond hair, tangled and unruly from the flight, falls in waves around her shoulders. She looks much more relaxed when she’s sleeping. She stirs and turns her head, her face now inches from mine. Every now and then the tiniest smile passes her lips. What’s she thinking? I wet my lips and swallow, still in awe of how beautiful she is. Just looking at her, you’d never think she was sick, much less dying.
Dying. I like this girl a lot, even in the short time I’ve known her. I want to embrace the friendship I know we could easily have, but I’m wary about letting her get too close. It’s selfish of me, but I can’t handle another tragedy in my life. Not now.
“What did you mean when you said your life was complicated?” she asks, her voice sleepy. Her eyes stay closed, and for a moment I wonder if she’s actually awake.
“I got the girl I’ve been in love with half my life pregnant,” I say.
Fuck. It sounds so much worse saying it aloud. I don’t want to talk about it, but I feel like I have to give her something, considering how open she’s been with me.
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Erin mumbles.
“She doesn’t want to keep it because she’s in love with my brother.”
Her eyes flutter open. The sympathy behind them kills me, because I’ve been pitied all my life. It’s funny, in a non-humorous way. She’s feeling sorry for me when her problems are so much bigger than mine. I should be embarrassed that I’m burdening the poor girl with shit like this.
“Well then, you’re right,” she agrees, nodding her head. “That does sound complicated.”
“That’s barely scratching the surface,” I admit. “Let’s just say getting away for a couple of months can’t hurt my life. I’m kind of hoping things just fix themselves while I’m gone.”
“Trust me, it doesn’t work that way,” she replies. “Running away only exacerbates the problems. If you don’t face them head-on, they’ll fester, and eat you up inside.”
“Aren’t you running away?” I ask lightly.
“You think that’s what I’m doing?” she asks. Hurt flashes through her eyes, which is quickly replaced with anger. “I’m not running away. I’m just putting myself first for once. If anything, I’m doing the opposite of running away.”
“That would be running forward,” I joke. I stop and take a different approach. “Sorry if I’m out of line. Obviously you know yourself better than I do. It just seems to me like you’re avoiding having to deal with how your family is coping with you dying. But, by your own logic, you can’t avoid that forever.”
She’s quiet for a moment, like she’s thinking about what I’m saying. She turns to face me, her expression serious. “You’re right, but there’s an exception to every rule, and the exception to this one is death. Death avoids everything.”
I don’t have a response to that. I guess it does avoid everything.
“Maybe I am avoiding this,” she sighs, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you are doing the same thing, does it?”
“No.” I grin. “I guess we’re both a couple of cowards, running away from their problems.”
“Oh, you did not just call the girl with brain cancer a coward, did you?” she teases. “You’re a monster!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the look of disgust the person next to me gives me and I laugh.
“You’re handling everything much better than I would,” I reply honestly. My smile is replaced with sincerity. She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I feel honoured to be on this trip with her. “You’re inspiring, Erin.”