Mr. Fillmore's class is the worst. Not only is it the worst class ever, math, but Hana Tate and Lena Tiddle pass notes all class. Back and forth, whenever Fillmore's not looking.
They're getting into a dangerous habit, Hana and Lena. It starts as passing notes, being close friends and spending all day together. Soon enough, they'll convince each other that amor deliria nervosa isn't all that bad and maybe even become unnatural.
I shutter at the thought.
I push all those thoughts away as I see a note drift by my desk and land right beside me. Hana's giggling because she missed Lena's desk by a landslide. Lena is struggling to twist out of her desk to reach it, while Hana is pointing at it and urging me to pass it to her.
I pick up the note, smile viciously and rip it in two. I let the pieces fall and continue to listen to the worst lecture ever.
Half an hour later, after dealing with the stares of both Hana and Lena, I walked out of the class with their note tucked into my bag. On the walk home, my curiosity got the best of me and I opened it.
Hey, you still coming over tonight? That was Lena, in her terrible writing.
Can't. Mom's saying if I spend too much time at your house, I'll catch poorness. Hana obviously had more experience in writing, being from a family that encourages the idea of schooling.
How is that even possible?
I don't know. Maybe if you cough on me?
I tossed the paper on the ground and kept walking.
If they want to catch deliria, they can be my guest.
As I reach my lawn, I hear the dog next door barking insanely. I didn't get any sleep last night, all because of that dog. The dog's owner is outside picking weeds, throwing a ball that is making the dog go insane.
"Hey!" I yell. "You think maybe you can shut that dog up? Some people like quiet." I grab our mail and make my way to the door, but I'm aware that he's laughing. I turn and face him. "What?"
"Nothing. It's just that no one else seems to have a problem. Just you." He's smiling, his full lips curled in, with chin dimples sucked into his face.
Having grown up in Portland during this time, appearances normally don't bother me. But there is something about this man, who can't be more than a few years older than myself, that makes me look closer.
His hair is stunningly blond, practically glowing in the sun. From what I can tell, his eyes are just plain brown. Nothing special. He is very well built, with large muscles that seem to be everywhere. He has a chiseled chin and long cheekbones, and a nose that arcs.
Another bark pulls me back from my thoughts and I am left staring at his confused face.
"Just... don't let it bark at night." With that I turn and climbed the three steps to my house.
My parents aren't home yet, which rarely happens, so I turn the television on and start watching the news. I'm not aloud to watch the news; my parents think the defense of the infected will convince me it's okay to love.
I cringe again. I'm not sure how someone lives their life with the disease. Knowing that it will kill them, and knowing that it cannot be cured once you've caught it.
Lena's mother is a perfect example.
I'm not too sure how many times she had the cure, maybe four or five times, but it never worked. She was infected and there was no help. My parents always use her as an example, telling me that I'll end up like her if I ever love: dead.
I hear my parents pull into the driveway and freeze. When the doors slam I turn off the TV and run to our kitchen island. I hear a key in the lock and open my math book. Just as they open the door and see me, I manage to grab a pencil and start my homework. My mother smiles at me and my father waves. I wave back and return to the homework.
I'm aware that I'm on a page of something I haven't learned yet, but if I switch pages my mother will suspect something, so I read the lesson on how to do it.
"Oh, I didn't realize you guys were learning about this," She points out. "I started this in my third year of college." I know that I'm done now.
"Well, we finished our lesson early so Mr. Fillmore wanted to teach us something new." It was weak, I know, but it was the only excuse I could think of.
My mother nods her head. "Well, maybe it'll be useful one day." With that, both my parents leave the kitchen and the conversation is done. I'm left alone with nothing but homework.
I can't wait for my operation. Right now, I feel so alone in this world, with no one to talk to. After the operation I'll have a pair and I won't need to talk to anyone. Life will be better.
My mother comes back into the kitchen for a glass of water. "So in three weeks you'll have your evaluation. Are you excited?"
"Of course." I force out. "But what if it doesn't work out. What if I do end up like Lena's mother? What if I catch it?"
My mother smooths my hair. "It's all genetic. I never had it, your father never had it, so you won't get it." and again, she was gone without another word.
I just hope she's right.