Today is the Day Chapter 2: Part II, a gallagher girls fanfic

Now it's going to start getting more into the storyline... And Zach? Patience, young grasshoppers. Patience. ;)

One afternoon, a few months ago, the doctors decided that I was climbing the uphill slope. That I was getting stronger. The nurse told me that if I was careful not to push it, I could try to walk around the hospital for a bit.
After being quarantined to a room for weeks, one learned not to question a chance at freedom. They actually took out my IV.
My mom acted as if it was a holiday. I guess it kinda was. She made me put my regular clothes on (the only ones that didn't fall off of my by that point) and told me to wear my most normal-looking wig.
I finally agreed. Because the last thing a past-dead teenage girl wants to see us someone's pity-filled gaze while they whisper something into another person's ear. I've seen more than enough of those in my lifetime.
We ate lunch together that day, mom and I. It was almost as if things were back to normal. Only I seemed to understand that normal was far, far away by that point.
But pretending it was close was nice.
Mom found a friend that day. Another middle-aged woman who was sitting by herself at a table in the cafeteria.
Her daughter was in for a remission checkup. She'd been in the clear for two years now.
Mom gave me a look, as if asking and apologizing at the same time. I nodded and went on my way.
After all, who was I to take away the first reason she'd laughed in a year?
It was hard going at first without her to lean on. The more I walked, though, the more steady my legs seemed to become, and after a painstakingly long journey, I finally had arrived at the resident Starbucks.
That Starbucks and the sad little card were the only pieces I had left of home.

Back home, my three best friends, Macey, Bex, and Liz, and I would go get caramel lattes every morning at Starbucks. Josh always made fun of us for it—said it was a waste of money, but I didn't care. Cancer taught me to cherish the little things that kept my friends close.
They used to come and visit, but now Liz is off to college (after graduating two years early with early admission to Stanford), Macey is in Paris modeling, and Bex claims that she just can't see me like this.
I don't blame her. I'm a back-from-the-dead ghost of who I used to be. An imposter inside my own worn out body.
But, we all still talk on the phone and drink our lattes with each other on mornings I'm feeling up to it.
That's all that matters.
But, today I don't look like quite as much of ghost, and a first trip to the hospital's Starbucks seems only right.
The furniture is well-worn and filled with people that look almost as exhausted as I feel, but the air doesn't smell like a hospital.
The coffeehouse fragrance is more than welcome.
I order my latte and pay up to the mad-looking lady behind the register, then stand in line behind the others ahead of me. I feel more normal than I have in ages.
Until someone bumps into me and I feel myself nearly falling.
For "I'm sorry" turns quickly into "oh my god, are you alright?" when one lets out an involuntary shriek of pain.
He'd hardly even hit me, but I knew it'd leave me black and blue. I turned and saw worried and gorgeous green eyes—a boy my age.

Today is the day.
The hour is closer than ever.
The clock ticks are magnified to a roar.
Everything has slowed around me.
The nurse comes in, checks my stats, and shakes her head.
The doctor is trying to calm my mother in the hallway.
There's a "get well soon" card from all of my classmates back home sitting on the window ledge.
A picture of Macey, Bex, Liz, and I soaking wet and covered in shaving cream after Battle of the Classes our sophomore year is sitting beside the cup.
It has been ten years, and today is the day.

I managed to stutter out that I was fine, but the boy still looked skeptical. Wouldn't anyone that hears the excuse from someone that looks like the walking dead?
And his eyes—oh, god, his eyes. I know he was asking me something, but I never heard a word. You could drown in those eyes. They were the color of emeralds, only with more sparkle.
Then "Hey. Hello?... Hey! I think your coffee is ready."
And my blush becoming even brighter. I hastily took the cup from the bored-looking worker and turned away. Mom was probably looking for me by that point, but for some reason I wanted—needed—to stay in the coffee shop a bit longer.
I really owed it to my friends. They would be glad to hear that I'd actually gotten my own latte for once instead of having a nurse or my mom go get it. And as much as I hated to admit, I needed it for myself as well.
The booth I sank into was soft, and only then did I realize that my legs were practically jello.
I checked my blood sugar, feeling eyes on me. (Yet another wonderful side effect of cancer. Blood sugar problems. And blood pressure problems. And many, many other problems.)
Low. Perfect explanation for the jelloey legs. My insulin pump beeped as I confirmed the adjustment and hooked it back on the waistband of my jeans.
Jumping at "Hmm... Diabetic, seventeen, and blonde. Interesting," as I glanced back up and found that the guy from the counter had slipped silently into the seat across from me.
He smirked when I asked how he had managed to sneak up in me. It only grew when I corrected him about my age. As if he had been a year off on purpose. I didn't even bother to mention that seventeen was an impossibility for me. The last thing I wanted was his pity.

So... Part Two... How was it? It wasn't as heavy this time around...

Review and tell me what you think? Oh, and please tell me if there are any grammar mistakes. Some of them are intentional, but I'm otherwise somewhat of a grammar nazi. Haha

Thanks for the wonderful reviews! They are greatly appreciated!

Until next time. (Seriously, my phone just made me retype that "until" five times...)

—Inez

P.S. Disclaimer: I do not own the Gallagher Girls. The marvelous Ally Carter does.