Hey everyone! I've decided to continue this and see where it'll go. If it doesn't work, I'll discontinue it but for now I'm super excited to have the chance to work on it more! So, let's get to the story! Enjoy!
I was always a bad driver- I couldn't feel pressure in my prosthetic, which meant I had to guess how much pressure to put on the pedals- but today I seemed especially horrific. Maybe it was having Hazel Grace so close to me. I wasn't looking at her, but I could feel her presence radiating onto me. I winced with every jolt, knowing that the movement at the corner of my eye was Hazel grace being flung against her seat belt or thrown back against her seat.
"I failed my driving test 3 times," I said, trying to fill the awkward silence.
"You don't say," she replied, her voice shaky, as she was flung against the seat belt.
I laughed, nodding. "Well I can't feel pressure in old Prosty, and I can't get the hang of driving left-footed. My doctors say most amputees can drive with no problem but... yeah. Not me." I say and steal a glance at her. I quickly turn my attention back to the road, knowing that even with as much concentration as I can muster with Hazel in the car, I'll still drive like a maniac. The least I could do was try to drive smoothly. "Anyway, I go in for my fourth driving test, and it goes about like this is going."
I slam the brakes as the lights ahead of us turn red, throwing Hazel against her seat belt. Again.
"Sorry. I swear to God I'm trying to be gentle. Right, so anyway, at the end of the test, I totally thought I'd failed again, but the instructor was like, 'you driving is unpleasant, but it isn't technically unsafe'"
"I'm not sure I agree," she said, "I suspect Cancer Perk."
Cancer perks were things kids with cancer got that normal kids didn't, like signed basketballs, free passes on homework, sports jerseys, etc.
"Yeah," I said as the light turned green and I tentatively pushed my foot on the gas pedal. I ended up slamming them, sending us zooming across the streets.
"You know they've got hand controls for people who can't use their legs," she said.
"Yeah, maybe someday," I sighed, knowing there was no way in hell I'd ever try to use one of those. I had lost a limb, but I could still do things like a normal person. I didn't need special treatment.
The conversation seemed to end. I brainstormed for something to say, but nothing came to mind. Instead, Hazel Grace spoke.
"So, are you in school?" It was small talk, but at least it was talk.
"Yeah, I'm at North Central. A year behind, though: I'm a sophomore. You?"
She hesitated before shyly responding. "No, my parents withdrew me 3 years ago."
My jaw dropped. "Three years?!"
And so she told me her story. How she was diagnosed with stage 4 thyroid cancer, followed by multiple surgeries that did shrank the tumours before they grew once again. How she was supposed to die, but she didn't. As a result, she now had a drug that would help her live her nearly breathless life for a few more years. When I suggest she go back to school, she replied she couldn't, because she already got her GED, so now she takes classes at MCC.
I nodded. "A college girl," I said smirking, "that explains the aura of sophistication." She smiled and shoved my arm playfully. When we reached my house, I gently stopped in the driveway (just kidding. It was as sudden as if we had crashed right into the wall of the house.) and led her inside. I led her to the kitchen and introduced her to my parents.
"This is Hazel Grace."
"Just Hazel." She insisted.
"How's it going, Hazel?" My dad asked
"Okay," she said
"How was Isaac's support group?" My dad asked.
"It was incredible," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You're such a Debbie Downer!" My mom said. "Hazel, do you enjoy it?"
She paused, and I saw her debating whether to be brutally honest or to sugar coat the truth. She went with in between response.
"Most of the people are really nice."
My parents seemed determined to spend more time with her than me, because they talked to her for what seemed like forever, before I finally cut in and said, "Hazel and I are going to watch V For Vendetta so she can see her filmic doppelganger, mid- two thousand Natalie Portman."
"The living room TV is yours for the watching." My dad said cheerfully.
"I think we're actually gonna watch it in the basement."
My dad laughed. "Nice try. Living room." He said sternly.
"But I want to show Hazel Grace the basement," I whined.
"Just Hazel." Hazel Grace said quietly from behind me.
"So show Just Hazel" I rolled my eyes in frustration. Was he really trying to make a joke?! "the basement, and then come upstairs and watch your movie in the living room."
I let out a loud sigh and put all my weight on my real leg, swinging the prosthetic around. The guilt trick apparently wasn't working today, because my dad didn't budge.
"Fine," I mumbled and led Hazel Grace to the basement.
I saw her look at my basketball shelf. "I used to play basketball," I explained, even though it seemed pretty obvious.
"You must've been pretty good," she replied, her eyes still on the shelf.
"I wasn't bad, but all the shoes and balls are Cancer Perks." I walked towards the TV and snatched up V for Vendetta. "I was, like, the prototypical white Hoosier kid. I was all about resurrecting the lost art of the midrange jumper, but then one day I was shooting free throws- just standing at the foul line at the North Central gym shooting from a rack of balls. All at once, I couldn't figure out why I was methodically tossing a spherical object through a toroidal object. It seemed like the stupidest thing I could possibly be doing. I started thinking about little kids putting a cylindrical peg through a circular hole, and how they do it over and over again for months when they figure it out, and how basketball was basically just a a slightly more aerobic version of that same exercise. Anyway, for the longest time, I just kept sinking free throws. I hit eighty in a row, my all-time best, but as I kept going, I felt more and more like a two year old. And then for some reason I started to think about hurdlers."
I noticed she had sat down on my bed.
"Are you okay?" I asked
She nodded. "I'm fine. Just listening. Hurdlers?"
I didn't want to keep rambling on and on, but honestly, it was better than silence. I took a deep breath.
"Yeah, hurdlers. I don't know why. I started thinking about them running their hurdle races, and jumping over these totally arbitrary objects that had been set in their path. And I wondered if hurdlers ever thought, you know, 'this would go a lot faster if we just got rid of the hurdles'"
"Was this before your diagnosis?" She asked. Honestly, I was a bit surprised. Most people just seemed to ignore the cancer, pretend it wasn't there. It seemed so casual for her. Maybe because she was going through the same thing.
After a moment, I half- smiled. "Right, well, there was that too. The day of the Existentially Fraught Free Throws was coincidentally also my last day of Dual Leggedness. I had a weekend between when they scheduled the amputation and when it happened. My own little glimpse of what Isaac's going through."
She nodded, looking at me. I could see was thinking about something. I wish I knew what. I stared back at her. She was so beautiful. You could tell she wasn't wearing makeup, that she hadn't brushed her hair or done anything to make herself look good. But yet she did.
"Do you have siblings?" She asked, tearing me away from my thoughts.
"Huh?" I responded stupidly.
"You said that thing about watching kids play."
"Oh, yeah, no. I hace nephews, from my half sisters. But they're older. They're like- DAD, HOW OLD ARE JULIE AND MARTHA?"
"Twenty eight!" He screamed back.
"They're like twenty eight," I continued "They live in Chacago. They are both married to very fancy lawyer dudes. Or banker dudes. I can't remember. You have siblings?"
She shook her head no. I sat down beside her, but not too close. "So what's your story?" I asked.
She sighed. "I already told you my story. I was diagnosed when-"
I cut her off. "No, not your cancer story. Your story. Interests, hobbies, passions, weird fetishes, etcetera."
"Um..." She trailed off.
"Don't tell me you're one of those people that becomes their disease. I know so many people like that. It's disheartening. Like, cancer is in the growth business, right? The taking-people-over business. But surely you haven't let it succeed prematurely."
For a while, she was silent. I thought she might not respond, but finally, she said softly, "I'm pretty unextraordinary."
"I reject that out of hand." I said with a grin, "Think of something you like. First thing that comes to mind."
"Um. Reading?" She said, unsure. There. That was a good start.
"What do you read?"
"Everything." She responded, "From, like hideous romance to pretentious fiction to poetry. Whatever."
"Do you write poetry, too?"
"No. I don't write."
"There!" I said, a bit too loud. "Hazel Grace, you are the only teenager in America who prefers reading poetry to writing it. This tells me so much. You read a lot of capital G great books, don't you?"
"I guess?"
"What's your favourite?"
"Um," She hesitated. Finally she told me, "My favourite book is probably An Imperial Affliction."
"Does it feature zombies?" I asked, stupidly.
"No."
"Stormtroopers?"
She shook her head, "It's not that kind of book."
I grinned. "I am going to read this terrible book with the boring title that does not contain stormtroopers," I promised and turned to the stack of books under my bed side table. I pulled out The Price of Dawn and, trying to be subtle, I wrote my number inside the front cover. I turned back around to Hazel Grace. "All I ask in exchange is that you read this brilliant and haunting novelization of my favourite video game." As I handed it to her, I realized that giving a girl a book based off a video game on your first date- wait, is this a date?- was probably not a great idea. I almost snatched it back, but instead ended up holding her pale, delicate hand.
It's so "Cold," I thought, saying the last word out loud. I bit my lip. When would I shut up?
"Not cold so much as underoxygenated."
I looked her right in the eye and grinned. "I love it when you talk medical to me," Then I stood, pulling her up with me, and held her hand till we reach the stairs.
As the credits to the movie rolled, I said, "Pretty great, huh?"
"Pretty great," she agreed, although there was something in her voice that made me think otherwise. She didn't like the movie, you moron!
"I should get home. Class in the morning." She said, and I got up to look for my keys while she waited on the couch.
She drove my car back to her house while I sat in shotgun. The ride was much smoother to her house than it was to mine.
I played a few songs from Hectic Glow, my favourite band. She seemed to like them. As she pulled into a driveway, I turned off the radio. I should kiss her.
Kiss her kiss her kiss her kiss her.
I wonder if she was thinking about kissing me, too. I really liked Hazel Grace. I really really liked Hazel Grace.
She put the car in park and looked over at me. Light was shining through the skylight onto her; the shadows framing her face and making her eyes shine. She looked like a painting. I wanted to tell her to hold still and take a picture, to capture this moment.
Kiss her.
But I couldn't. I was too scared. Too scared of rejection, too scared of everything. I cleared my throat and shook the thoughts from my head.
"Hazel Grace," I said, "It's been a real pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Ditto, Mr. Waters," She replied shyly, her head tilted to the ground as she looked up at me with her big, Hazel eyes.
"May I see you again?" I said, nervous of her answer. She smiled and I let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"Sure."
"Tomorrow?" I asked hopefully. Tomorrow, Augustus? Really? God, you sound desperate. But I was. I don't know why, but I really was.
"Patience, grasshopper," She answered, "You don't want to seem overeager."
"Right, that's why I said tomorrow," I explained. "I want to see you again tonight. But I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow." She rolled her eyes. "I'm serious." I said.
"You don't even know me," She said, grabbing the book and opening the door. "How about I call you when I finish this?" She said as she stepped out of the car, holding up the book.
"You don't even have my phone number," I argued.
"I strongly suspect you wrote it in the book." She said.
I smiled a goofy smile, not able to contain it. "And you say we don't know each other."
She smiled and shut the door, before slowly walking to her front door and closing it behind her without looking back. But, as I pulled out of the driveway, I saw her on the couch, opening a book. She looked up at me, grinned, and waved me goodbye.
What do you guys think!? This took forever, because I have to copy the dialogue from the book. I hope you enjoyed it! I'll try to write more but I'm currently in summer school trying to get ahead in math (yeah, I know. *Cough* *Cough* NERD) so I'll be really busy by the end of the month with exams, etc. But I hope I can write before that! I also have to get my own laptop for high school so it'll be a lot easier when I can sit in my room and write peacefully instead of writing it in the kitchen with everyone around.
Do you guys have any suggestions? I take advice or just compliments! :)
Also, I started an IG account, where I read books and then rate and write a review on them. I thought it'd be a cool idea if people are looking for new books! If you want to follow me, the name is
ultimate_book_worm
I don't love the name but everything else was taken! Ahh!
I hope I see you soon! Love y'all!