Chapter One

Maya's POV:

You know it's funny. I always thought that life was hard. And it is. But I had always thought it was hard because of the drama, the homework, the high school, the sports, remembering locker combinations and finding your new classrooms. Paying for a car when you turn sixteen. Not getting lost on the subway. Having enough money for Starbucks. Getting a hot boyfriend. But one pivotal moment changed all of that forever.

"Miss Hart, your test results came up positive. You have stage two lung cancer."

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Riley's POV:

Maya had left early that day for a doctor's appointment. She had gone in for a wellness check up a few weeks ago and they called her back for another appointment today. I hoped it wasn't anything serious. After school, Farkle, Lucas, and I all went out for smoothies at Jamba Juice.

"Too bad Maya couldn't be here." Farkle sighed as we all sat at the little wooden table with our smoothies.

"Yeah. But she hadn't been to the doctors' since she was like three. I was just glad my parents finally paid for her to go." I sipped my blueberry banana blast.

"How did the first one go a few weeks ago?" Lucas asked about Maya's first check-up.

"She said that they had wanted to do some MRI scans and stuff to check the internal stuff. But she had said that they weren't concerned about anything. She told them about her asthma and her cough and they gave her some medicine. And I think it was getting better." I smiled in relief.

"That's good." Lucas nodded. "And in a few days she'll be moving in with you." I smiled and nodded eagerly. Maya's mom had finally given in. My parents officially took custody of Maya this weekend and Maya was moving in while Katy flew out west to accept a job offer in Vegas. Maya begged to stay and finish high school here. I mean we were only sophomores. She still had two years left. So my parents agreed. I was so excited.

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Maya's POV:

The first check-up I went to, I had told them about how my asthma was getting worse and how I had a fairly bad cough. But they had given me medicine and I had thought it was getting better.

"Miss Hart?" the doctor startled me out of my thoughts. "Is there anyone you'd like me to call?" I barely managed to shake my head. I couldn't breathe. Maybe it was the cancer that was rapidly feeding on my lungs. I felt like I was gonna pass out.

"So the asthma and cough…" I managed to choke out.

"The cancer." He nodded gravely. "It's a good thing we did the tests we did." No! It's not a good thing! If we hadn't found out, I could've lived in denial!

"Um…I…" I stuttered. "I don't know how I'll…" I had no idea how I'd pay for this.

"Please, Miss Hart. I don't want you to think any more about this. I'd like to talk with your guardians." The doctor's voice was quiet, and serious. How could he sit there and break this sort of news to me? I was dying inside. Literally and figuratively. And he could just sit there and look at me with an unreadable expression.

"Stage two?" I clarified.

"Yes." He seemed relieved to hear me speak. And relieved to talk about a brighter side. "That means you still have a great fighting chance. If we get right on this, you will have high odds of getting through this."

"And my lungs is the only place?"

"That's the first thing on your schedule. More testing. We need to check other organs and such. But as of now, yes, the lungs are the only thing." He stood up now. "Maya, I think it would be best if you called a friend or family member. This isn't the kind of thing to drive home alone with on your mind." He thought I was going to commit suicide. I knew I probably would want to kill myself in a few days when reality hit, but right now I was in shock. I couldn't think. It was like I was up above, watching myself sit in that doctor's room and slowly fade.

"Um, ok." I breathed. I slowly stood up and wobbled a bit.

"You ok?" the doctor asked as he reached for the door handle.

"I'm fine." I whispered. I don't know how I managed to say that. I wasn't fine and he knew it. I was dying! Stop! I hushed the voice in my head. I wouldn't say that. I was still alive wasn't I? That's what I needed to focus on. The door closed behind him and left me alone, standing in the stark white room that smelled like cleaner and sterilized hand soap. The harsh bright lights glared down on me, making my hands look even paler when I rubbed them together. They were as cold as ice. Cancer. Maya Hart. Maya Hart has cancer. "Maya Hart has…." My voice trailed off. No. Not yet. I would most likely start to hear those words enough. I didn't need to say them yet. This all might still be a dream. I could only hope. I saw in the movies that most people when they got news like this would break down. Or go run in front of a car. Or at least go win some sort of huge competition and then die trying. But not me. I felt a sort of numb peacefulness. It was almost scary. I didn't scream or cry or move even. I didn't even think I was breathing. It felt like my soul and mind were just sort of gliding through cotton candy, slow motion, not feeling anything but slowly moving through the thickness. I don't know how long I stood there, but eventually I jumped out of my trance when a nurse opened the door and scared me.

"Oh I'm sorry." She apologized.

"It's fine." My voice was hoarse. "I was just leaving." I bent down and scooped up my purse and the papers the doctor had left for me. As I made my way out into the parking lot, I passed an old lady carrying her oxygen tank in with her. I looked away. That might be me in a few years or months. I mean, I knew I was gonna die eventually, but not this young. Not when I was sixteen or seventeen. I was only sixteen! I couldn't do this. Somehow I managed to find my car keys and let myself into my Honda Civic and toss my purse onto the passenger seat. I sat for a while and just stared out the windshield. The parking lot overlooked a huge section of overpasses and a main freeway. I watched the cars and buses and trucks passing and just stopped thinking.

"Cancer." The doctor's voice rang back through my mind. It was impossible to stop thinking. I jammed my keys into the ignition and started the car and fumbled with my seatbelt mindlessly. I pulled out of the parking lot and instead of driving back to my house or the Matthews' where I normally would go, I turned toward the nearest Starbucks. I don't know what made me do it. But I liked coffee and when I saw the familiar green and white mermaid sign for the coffee house, I felt like a warm blanket had wrapped my heart up. Starbucks was normal. I always sat and drank coffee. Cancer couldn't change that. I walked in and the comforting scent of coffee beans and dark chocolate brushed my nose. Not many people were in, and those who were, were very occupied by their books or computers or newspapers. I bumped into a display rack on my way to the register, but I hardly noticed or felt the bruise that had already started to form.

"What can I get for you, Maya?" a perky voice piped from behind the register. I looked up quickly and pulled my fluffy, blonde hair behind my ears. And I saw Claire. She had art class with me. I probably looked like a total mess. I hadn't cried, thank goodness, but I bet I didn't look too happy.

"What do I normally get?" I mumbled as I tried to read the menu on the huge boards hanging from the ceiling. I couldn't even remember my order.

"Rough day?" Claire gave me a sympathetic smile.

"You have no idea." My voice cracked and I covered it with a cough, which turned into a real cough. "Excuse me." I croaked after I had turned away for a moment to get the cough under control. "I've had a bad cough now for…." Then I remembered, it wasn't a cough. It was the cancer. And I wanted to cry.

"It's fine." Claire spoke up. "I just got over a sore throat myself. Maybe you want some hot tea instead of your iced vanilla latte?"

"Hot tea does sound good." I admitted. "But I think I'll still get the usual." I gave her my best attempt at a laugh. "I love my vanilla latte routine."

"Hey, don't blame you." She smiled and I handed her my Starbucks gold card. She handed me my receipt and I walked over to wait for my drink. After I got my drink and had slipped my wallet and receipt back into my purse and said goodbye to Claire, I made my way outside. No one was sitting at the outdoor tables considering it was early March and still pretty chilly and damp. I could see my breath as I sat down and began to sip my freezing cold drink. Maybe I can freeze my lungs I thought. And then the cancer will die. Instead of me. Then my phone started to ring. I dug it out from my purse and checked to see who it was. I really wasn't in the mood to talk. But it was Mr. Matthews. "Hello?" I answered.

"Maya? Where are you? Topanga called and said you weren't at home yet and weren't answering your phone." Mr. Matthews sounded slightly concerned. He had no idea what was coming.

"Wait where are you? You're not at home too?" I asked.

"I'm working a little late at school. Grading some of your guys' tests." Mr. Matthews had continued to teach his daughter and her friends into high school and they still had him for their history teacher.

"I'm at Starbucks." Maya decided to keep everything put away for a while.

"Oh how did the doctors' visit go? Did they give you anything new for that cough?" and then I felt the tears well up in my eyes.

"It's not a cough." I choked out. And then I started to sob. Me, Maya Hart started to sob out all alone at a metal table in front of Starbucks with a freezing cold drink in her hand.

"Maya, what's wrong?" I could hear Mr. Matthews standing up.

"It wasn't a cough." Was all I could manage to say. "Not a cough. Not a cough."

"Maya, tell me right now, what happened?!" his voice got firm.

"Cancer." I whispered. "It wasn't a cough or asthma. It was cancer. It is cancer."

"Oh my God." I heard Mr. Matthews breathe. And I started to cry all over again. I was taking heaving, huge gasps of air, and hiccupping from lack of air.

"I'm so sorry!" I cried. "So sorry."

"Maya what Starbucks are you at?" he was grabbing his coat and packing up. I could hear it.

"The one by H&M."

"Don't move." And he hung up.