September.

I want to say that there were grey skies and bitter winds the day that Cam Fisher told me he had cancer. But really, it was bright sunshine, with birds chirping and people whistling and the poodles from next door doing whatever it is that they do.

It was supposed to be a good day. Me and my best friend tanning poolside, drinking root beer, talking about the start of eleventh grade. But instead, Cam showed up and uttered those three words, and my heart shattered, my world shattered, and my fucking soul probably even shattered.

"Claire?"

"Hmm?"

"I have cancer."

And that was that. It was said. My best friend was sick. Not sick, sick meant you could get better. My best friend was dying.

They said six months. That's all it would take. I only had six months left with my best friend, with the only person in the entire world -no, the entire fucking universe- who I loved completely.

And those six months aren't enough.

"Miss Lyons," Mr. Gregory, my socials teacher, knocks my textbook off my desk, waking me up.

"Yes?" I try to blink the sleep out of my eyes and act like I'd actually spent the last forty-five minutes writing notes instead of snoring.

"I'm so sorry to wake you," he purses his lips at me, "But I was wondering if you could answer my question."

I stare down at my desk, since it's obvious I have no idea what he just asked, let alone the answer.

"I can tell you, Mr Gregory!" Massie Block raises her hand. Suck up.

"That won't be neccesary, Miss Block," Mr Gregory says. "But Miss Lyons, this is only the second week of school -give your head a shake and get ready to settle down. Summer is over."

Of course it is. Gone along with summer are my restful nights, my best friend and any sense of normality in my world.

The Fishers haven't made it public yet. All of the teachers know, but no one else. Sometime soon, I'm sure. Maybe they don't believe it yet. I don't.

My days at school are lonely. Its only the second week and I already want to be home-schooled. All my life, it was me and Cam, Cam and me. We had each other, we didn't need anybody else. I had no one else.

I eat my lunch alone, at a table in the back of the cafeteria. Massie Block and her dumb friends whisper and stare at me. I'm sure everyone wonders where Cam is -everyone likes Cam. Star of the soccer team, A+ student, all around golden boy. I've always wondered why Cam's my best friend. He has his pick of the entire school -everyone worships him. And yet, he picked me.

Back in first grade, Massie Block had told everyone I had cooties, and Massie Block's word was the law, so that was that -I was alone. Then Cam came along, beautiful, brilliant Cam, and he ignored Massie Block's warnings and sat with me at lunch.

We'd been inseperable ever since. And to this day I still don't know why he sat with me. I feel a fresh rush of tears threaten to spill out of my eyes when I realize I'd better ask Cam these questions I have now -while I still can.

I leave my tray at the table and disappear into the handicapped bathroom because I know it'll be free of girls fixing their hair or applying their millionth coat of lipgloss. I dial Cam's number, a number I know as well as my own, and breathe a sigh of relief when he picks up.

"Hey," Cam says warmly, as if this is just a normal phone call and things are normal and he's not sick.

"Hi," I manage, squeezing my eyes shut.

"What's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I lie. "Just...wanted to hear your voice."

"Oh," Cam says. "How's school going? I started that French assignment and it makes no sense. Wanna come help me after school?"

I want to ask him why on earth he's doing a stupid French assignment or any of his fucking schoolwork for that matter, since he won't even be alive to finish eleventh grade. "You know I have no where else to be," I tell him. "Or anywhere else I'd want to be."

"Ask Harris to drive you," he encourages. "He said he'd come over too."

"I'm not asking your older brother," I tell him. "I've talked to him maybe twice in my entire life and I'm not walking up to him in the middle of school, when he's surrounded by al of his hockey friends."

Cam laughs. "They're not that bad." The bell rings, and Cam asks me "Is that the bell I just heard? You'd better go."

"I don't want to," I whisper. I don't want to hang up or say goodbye because every time I do, I'm terrified it could be forever.

"Claire, go. You have Bio."

I try to laugh. "Since when is Bio more important than my best friend?"

"Yale, remember?" Cam names my dream school. "That's the dream."

"Yeah," I tell him. "I'll see you in a few hours. I love you."

I hangup, and resist the urge to flush my phone down the toilet. That's not the dream, the dream was for us to go to Yale together.

I arrive at the hospital an hour after school, and awkwardly board the elevator to Cam's eighth-floor room. The oncology ward scares me. The whole hospital scares me. I don't know why Cam refused to be put in the Children's ward.

I knock lightly on the half-closed door. Cam has a roommate, one I've never seen even though I spend ninety-eight percent of my time here. Cam is lying in bed, eyes glued to the TV screen hanging on the wall. Harris is sitting in an armchair beside the bed.

"Claire!" Cam's eyes light up when I walk into the room, and I can't hold back my grin.

"I didn't know you were coming," Harris mumbles awkwardly. "I could've, uh, given you a ride."

Harris is in grade twelve and wildly popular. He has the same goodlooks as Cam, but lacks Cam's different coloured eyes. Instead, both of his eyes are green, which is my favourite of Cam's eyes.

"It's okay," I sit on the chair on the other side of the bed. "I like walking." It clears my head. "I brought my French notes for you," I hand over my binder.

"Oh, great! Thanks, I-" he breaks off as a nurse walks in. She smiles warmly at me, but grin widens when she sees Harris.

"Oh, hello! You're Cam's brother right?"

"I am," Harris nods. Cam rolls his eyes at me and I snicker. Typical.

Cam and I talk for a bit. I try to pretend we're lying in my backyard by the pool. Try, but don't succeed. Harris leaves, and then it's just me and Cam, Cam and me, the way things have always been.

"Come lie with me," he scooches over in his tiny bed, and I giggle as I squish in beside him. It's so familiar, the warmth of his body, the spicy cologne. "Visiting hours are almost over."

"I should be an exception," I decide. "They should let me come over whenever."

"You can always call whenever," he shifts so that my head falls onto his shoulder. I burrow into his warm, strong side. Cam and I had never really been romantically into each other, but we cuddled. He'd never had any real girlfriends, I'd never had any boyfriends, and now I wonder if maybe we would've eventually been into each other.

"You need your rest too," I tell him.

"Yeah, but I'd drop anything for you."

I smile and sigh and bite my lip to avoid crying. I don't want to cry in front of Cam. If I'm scared, he must be even more scared.

When I get home at ten-thirty, mom's sitting in the living room, arm's crossed. I think she's frowning, but it's always hard to tell with the Botox. "Where were you?" she demands the second I'm in the door. I kick off my shoes and drop my backpack. "You know your curfew is ten on school nights. Why weren't you answering your phone?"

"Where do you think I was?!" I dig my nails into my palm to keep from yelling at her.

"Oh," mom's eyes soften, but the rest of her face stays frozen. "I...how is Cam?"

"Dying," I say as I begin to walk up the stairs. "It doesn't matter how many times you ask, mom, he'll always be dying."