Breathe Me - C.R. Jane Page 0,26
to her, mimicking her seating position.
She cranes her neck up and looks over at me waiting for my reply.
“I hope so. I’d like to be your friend,” I tell her truthfully, taking my own seat next to Quaid.
“I'd like that, too.” She gives me a shy smile and then tilts her head over to Carter on her other side. He doesn't say anything, but sits down just the same, silently giving his answer.
All three of us stare at her, our breathing halted so we don't miss a single word she says, because whatever she’s about to explain feels like it’s going to be important. She lets out a long exhale, her shoulders slumping a bit.
“I guess since we are going to be friends, I might as well tell you. But I don't want your pity and, after today, I don't want to talk about it either. Is that understood?" she asks with the same stern tone her father used on us earlier in the car.
We all nod, and my stomach starts cramping up, worried that whatever she’s about to confess is going to knock my world off its hinges. Much like she already has done.
"I was born with two brain tumors in my head, and because of that, I've been in and out of hospitals all my life. But after my last surgery almost a year ago, the doctors were able to extract one in its entirety, and the chemo was able to reduce the other. I've been in remission for ten months now, but Dad is still getting used to it all. I guess I am too, if I’m being honest. "
“Shit!” Quaid exclaims.
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” she mutters with a soft blush to her cheeks.
“But you’re fine now?” Carter asks, a deep ingrained scowl to his face.
"Yes, I am."
"Do you still have to do…you know, chemo and stuff?" Quaid questions curiously, never having met anyone who has ever been sick in their lives. Aside from Carter’s grandmother, I have to admit I haven’t met anyone either.
“She said she was in remission moron, that means she's all good now, aren't you?” I deadpan with a little too much bite to my words.
I don’t know why I’m angry, but I am. It isn’t fair that kids get sick at such a young age, and it sure as shit isn’t fair that it happened to Valentina.
“Yes. I’m fine and ready to start my life.” Her eyes sparkle looking at us, hope twinkling its way through them.
“What about your mom?” Carter interjects.
“She left when I was eight. Just couldn’t deal with having a sick kid any longer, I guess.” She shrugs.
“What a bitch!”
“Jesus, Quaid! Do you have to say everything that pops into your head? For fuck’s sake!” I reprimand, pissed my friend can’t keep his opinions to himself, especially considering how sensitive the topic at hand is.
“Fuck off! Her mom is a bitch for leaving her kid when she needed her most.” Quaid pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in his tantrum.
I tilt my head over to a desolate Valentina, not knowing what I can do to wipe that frown off her face.
“Quaid’s right. Your mom is a bitch for leaving you. So fuck her. If she left, that just means she didn’t deserve you anyway,” Carter adds, pulling a bit of grass out of its root and throwing it across the cliff.
A shy smile crests her lips as she takes him in, then Quaid, and finally rests her gaze on me.
“You guys sure cuss a lot.”
“Get used to it, sweetheart. By the end of the summer, you will too. We’ll teach you all the good ones.” Quaid beams proudly, as if he invented the concept of cussing.
“I’m not sure my dad will like that.” She giggles.
“He seems like a cool dude. I’m sure he drops an F bomb here and there.”
“Oh, he does.” She snickers, looking more relaxed and at ease than she was a minute ago.
“See? I knew he was cool.” Quaid winks at her, pulling another warm smile out of her.
“He is. My dad is the best. Even with his whole world falling apart, he’s never once blamed me or made me feel guilty about all the things we missed out on.”
My chest tightens at her words. Being sick the way she was, her childhood must not have been easy on either of them. I also don’t miss how she mentioned her father never made her feel guilty about it, which means deep down, she does.
“Well, you