Bittersweet
The porch light cast a glow on the garden path leading to her doorstep as Kate Fitzgerald ambled towards it. The sixteen-year-old was in no hurry for her wonderful night to come to an end, even as she spied the light go on behind her parents' bedroom window. "Cue the welcome committee," she sighed, turning to face her boyfriend Taylor when they reached the doorstep. "My Mom better not come down here, I swear to God!"
"Mine is the same way when I come home late," Taylor laughed; "There must be a cancer Mom handbook or something we don't know about."
"That's a definite possibility." Kate tucked a strand of her currently relatively long blonde hair behind her ear, unused to having it there to fiddle with. The butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach were far preferable to nausea brought on by chemo, but the latter was inevitable in her situation. "I had a really good time tonight," she said softly, her mouth feeling as dry as when she had recited her telephone number to him the day they met.
"Me too," he agreed, caressing her trembling hands. She could feel the scars of graft versus host disease, rough and uneven on his clammy palms, but squeezed all the harder for it. A question danced in his steely grey eyes by the dim porchlight dangling overhead and by way of answer she drew closer to his lanky frame, pushing herself up on tiptoe.
For most of her life, as she had told Taylor the day they met, waiting for something to send her back to the hospital's four walls had been all she knew how to do. But when she looked into those eyes, she saw the understanding of someone on the same fight to survive as she was. She saw compassion and love and hope for their futures; something that kids like the two of them didn't often dare to dream about. Even at sixteen, Kate understood what her mother hadn't yet: her days were numbered, no matter how many desperate tests and such they put poor Anna through to give Kate more borrowed time. "Here is good," she whispered under her breath as all these musings about her life swirled in her mind.
"I think so too." Taylor's voice sliced into her racing thoughts, a break in the pitch the main give-away that he was nervous too. Then his scarred hands were on her shoulders, tracing the smooth black leather of the smart jacket Anna had helped her pick out to wear tonight. They traveled upwards, trailing through her thin hair and tracing circles on her burning cheeks. "Hey, you're blushing," he remarked, and Kate's blue eyes flickered upwards to meet his amused gaze nervously. "I don't think I've ever had that reaction from a girl before."
"Just how many girls have you dated, Romeo?" Kate managed to sound somewhat sassy, despite the nerves tying her insides in knots.
"Don't worry; my little sister has been my date to the tacky dance the hospital throws around prom season for as long as I can remember," he told her. "Was that a hint of jealousy, Miss Fitzgerald?"
"You wish," she giggled, hiding the secret relief behind a dazzling smile. "There's another one coming up, isn't there?" Kate's smile turned as coy as she could manage in the knowledge that her parents were probably spying on them right now. "Do you think your sister could sacrifice her date this year? I'm kind of hoping he's available."
"You drive a hard bargain," he chuckled. "I'm sure she can be convinced. Haley's just as happy dancing around with her dolls; she's only seven. Is that a date?"
"I'd say that is indeed a date," said Kate seriously, and this time when he bowed his head and pressed his lips to hers, she was ready for it. The kiss was as tender and sweet as she had always dreamed of her first being, but when their tongues collided, there was the taste of something bitter through all the bliss. "I can taste your Cytoxan," she whispered, and Taylor groaned and leaned back so suddenly she wished she hadn't said anything.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "It's been a chemo week, damaged goods, I know."
"Shut up," she snapped; "The doctors told me yesterday I'm relapsing. I start chemo again next week. Will you be calling me damaged goods then?"
He looked crestfallen but shook his head; "Of course not, but…"
Kate clamped her hand over his mouth before he could finish. "Stop talking!" He stared at her stern expression, looking so sad it hardly seemed possible she was on cloud nine a minute ago. Her fingertips lifted to press against his once more, every scar feeling like a tether between their two damaged souls. "Feel that?" she said quietly and the words hung in the warm summer night air. "We match."
"What are you talking about?" he frowned in confusion and the expression made him look unfairly kiss-worthy again.
"If you're damaged goods, I am too," she said simply. "Tonight's the first time I can remember feeling like a normal teenage girl, and that's because of you." Suddenly the look of love in his eyes was so overwhelming it lodged a lump in Kate's throat, and she couldn't speak anymore.
"I'll be there," he said after a long silence so intense one could have heard crickets chirping if there had been any around. "For the chemo, I mean."
"You just want to watch me throw up, how heroic," Kate laughed, once again to cover up her true emotions.
"Well yeah, I'm the chemo king, sorry babe," he winked, but their daily struggle had officially eclipsed the light mood of the evening. "Kate, I'll be there, like it or not. And after that we'll do the prom thing, you're so stuck with me."
"One more for the road?" she suggested and this time took him by surprise when she threw herself at him and kissed him until neither of them could breathe. When she finally pulled back and gazed into his eyes, the expression of sadness and love had somehow fused to make something she could only call bittersweet. "I love you."
"I love you too, Kate," he said without hesitation. "Just do me a favor and fight this thing, okay? I need you to stick around for a good long time."
"I will if you will, babe," she shot back and then they were back where they started before the fabulous kisses, two kids fighting for the longest lives they could have. Kate held up a pinky finger, painted with black polish much to her girly Aunt Kelly's disgust. "Swear it?"
"We're in this together," Taylor promised, linking his pinky finger with hers. "It's a deal; we're gonna be stuck together through many more chemo sessions, which I will win."
"I wouldn't bet on that," Kate laughed, glad the somber mood had dissipated before they parted ways. "Who knows, maybe all that Cytoxan kissing will save me a dose next week."
"That's not funny, Kate!" he protested, but she was already waving him off the porch.
"I should get going, or my Mom will likely come barging out here and kill you before your cancer does. Goodnight, Taylor."
"Let me know when your chemo is," he called after her retreating back and Kate nodded, glancing over her shoulder only after she was sure that he had turned to leave. In the thirteen years that she had been sick, never had the prospect of a chemotherapy appointment been so exhilarating. Much as the ailing teen valued Sara's sometimes overbearing protectiveness and support, nothing could compare to the boy walking down her garden path right now. When Kate finally rushed inside to wake Anna and share every detail of the goodnight kiss, she felt like she was walking on air once more and not even a relapse could bring her down.
A / N I saw the MSK movie after a long time today, and this expansion of the goodnight kiss scene just came to me because they are so beautiful and tragic. Enjoy! xx
