We sat quietly on the bench, my eyes locked on the canal. I was still tense; my stomach was aching. Gus still wore that adorable, goofy expression that constantly captured his personality. He kept looking at me. Why was it so hard for me to tell him?

I didn't want to reverse what he'd brought me. It wasn't fair to him that I might suddenly have to leave – it wasn't fair for him to lose two girls. I was so scared that the cancer might not give him enough time, and here I was worrying about my own.

"Gus…" He glanced up immediately, and I froze again. That smile. "I went in for my checkup a few days before we came." The smile faded a little; I could tell he was chewing on the inside of his lip. I decided I'd better not keep him in suspense. "The colony in my lungs…when I had that last attack, it reached my bloodstream. The meds couldn't stop everything. They gave me a CT scan while I was there, and…"

Augustus' face had gone from beaming to confused. His eyes were locked on me, struggling to understand what I was saying. I pleaded silently for him to be calm.

"…the cancer spread to my liver, Gus. Maybe farther, we don't know." A huge breath escaped from him. I hadn't noticed that he'd stopped breathing.

He swallowed slowly, looking down at my hand. I'd been crushing his fingers, I guess. Gus lifted it, looking defeated. Wondering what intrigued him so much, I peered down, too. The skin around my fingers had grown tight and yellow; the new cancer in my body was already showing itself.

"How are you feeling?" Oh god. He sounded like Patrick.

"I'm fine," I choked, trying not to show my disappointment. I wanted him to act all sarcastic and treat me like a person, not a kid.

He seemed to notice his mistake, but he was too far gone to change. He stood up suddenly. Breathing heavily, Gus repeatedly tried to say something but couldn't seem to form his words. It sounded to me like a lot of grunting, like I'd broken every civilized sense he had in him.

"Hazel." I jerked at the sound of his voice – it was so forced, rougher than I'd heard it before. "Please, don't…" he trailed off, standing at the edge of the canal and staring into the water. I was getting seriously concerned now. To hell with my cancer – I was worried about his sanity.

"Don't what?" I asked nervously, fumbling for the oxygen tank so I could stand up. If he jumped, would I be able to grab him in time?

"Don't…break up with…I promise you, my feelings won't change…" he blurted out, still chewing his lip and having a staring contest with the bottom of the canal.

I laughed out loud. "Augustus Waters, you're worried about me breaking up with you? I'm honored."

Gus played uncomfortably with his own hands. I had to stifle the giggles to even breathe, let alone to hear his answer. "Well…you know, with Caroline and all, I just want you to know that you're different…"

I was practically wheezing. "Maybe you're right. You're too sensitive for me."

He turned his head. "Wha-" I cut him off with a kiss before he could wrap his head around my answer.

"I'm not going anywhere, Stumpy."

He frowned halfheartedly. "That is not funny!"

I bit my lip. Maybe I'd taken it too far.

"Hey, hey. Come here." It was amazing how easily Gus could read my thoughts. He pulled me into his arms, switching roles with me in a matter of seconds.

I finally let the emotions run free. "I'm scared, Gus. I don't want to lose everything."

He pulled me closer and I felt the air being sucked into his chest. "You're not losing anything, Hazel Grace. I'll make sure of that."

For a few seconds, I could breathe again.


Our plane touched back down without a sound, or so it seemed. Mom openly couldn't keep her hands off me after she knew I'd told Gus (I wouldn't have minded this from him). Sure, Amsterdam had been sort of a bust, but she didn't know half of my trip. She didn't know about the Anne Frank house, or tasting the stars, or our Venn diagram humor…my cheeks turned scarlet every time that last one crossed my mind. What Mom did know was that I was in danger of losing everything, and she wasn't taking it lightly.

After leaving the hospital before the trip, she'd fought and cried and begged for me to cancel my flight. To save it for another time. To focus on getting better. The only reason my wish had pulled through was because both of us knew the truth; neither of those things would actually happen.

I glanced over at Gus, sound asleep in his seat by the window. Gravel whooshed by the outline of his head – we were almost at the terminal. I poked my finger into his ear.

"Gah! Hazel?" Jerking awake, he swatted at the air. I smiled triumphantly.

We made our way to the lobby, where Dad was waiting with hugs. I stifled a laugh when Gus' face was smushed into my father's chest; he was still grumpy from his nap on the plane. After the assortment of bags and bodies was piled into the car, I took the chance to approach him.

"Are you okay?"

"Are you okay?"

We said it at the exact same time, which he found incredibly funny. That boy's sense of humor never failed to interrupt serious moments.

"You go first."

"No, you go first."

"Oh, for Christ's sake."

"Christ, as in Jesus, whose Literal Heart we gathered in?"

"Yes, that one. He's annoyed."

Gus smirked, slipping a cigarette out of his pocket. "I desperately missed these on the plane."

"That's exactly the sort of thing that annoys Jesus."

I didn't think it was possible for his smile to get bigger, but it did. "So, are you okay?"

I looked down at my shoes. One of them had a big, black scuff mark on the toe. I had a big, black scuff mark on my liver. "Yeah, I'm holding up."

He raised his eyebrows, then leaned closer to me. I thought he was going to whisper something cute or maybe kiss me on the cheek, but no- my scuffed feet flew into the air as he lifted me bridal-style and hoisted me into the car. "What was that for?" I growled at him.

The toothy grin was still plastered on his face. "That was for Jesus!"

I punched him in the arm and he shut up.