Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nothing that you know to be copyrighted is mine. Let's see, I don't own Twilight/New Moon/Eclipse (wish I did though, then I could have Edward ha ha!) Don't own Nightlife by Rob Thurman (great book-read it, it's great!) Don't own Parenting, McDonald's (does that count as a copy right? Anyway, I don't own it) don't own The Outsiders...nada, nothing is mine. Just having fun. Enjoy!!

Chapter Three: Doctor

Somehow, Emmett Cullen ended up being in my gym class. In all honesty, I didn't see how that was possible. I was a sophomore, he was a junior. And he looked like he had the brawn to have had passed gym class the first time around. Unfortunately for me, gym was a two year class. Emmett looked like his day had been made by this fact.

We were supposed to be playing soccer. Supposed to being the key word. I was shredding grass, my inhaler not far away from me. My asthma was a blessing when it came to gym class-I got out of so many things.

The other kids were playing. Emmett was having a ball, literally. He stole the soccer ball so often, scored at least fifty times. By the time gym was halfway over all the kids on the opposite team were glaring at the other, wishing to be on theirs. And Emmett just stood there, grinning when they decided to have a rematch. He jogged over to me. "Heard you went shopping with Alice." I nodded. "Brave of you," he commented.

I rolled my eyes and returned to my book. It was Nightlife by Rob Thurman. A really good book, I was just to the part after Cal, Niko, and Robin have a drink, so it was close to the good part. Emmett looked back at the teams who were arguing. "For your information," I said suddenly, not sure why I was talking, "shopping with Alice isn't scary at all."

He laughed, a booming laugh that made my ears hurt. "I think it is, Rose has told me all about the horrors. At least, they sound like horrors to me."

I shook my head, "No, not horrors."

I was so confused as to why he was standing there. It wasn't like we had much-if anything-in common. I doubted we shared similar tastes, and our abilities probably were off balanced.

I was relieved when I could go home. I made my way to the bus without anyone bugging me and without any chatting. I found myself a good spot in the back and put my headphones on. I closed my eyes and waited for the bus to lurch forward. When it did I suddenly dreaded getting home.

I had a doctor's appointment. Goody for me. NOT! I turned up the volume on my mp3 player to drown out my own self pity and chatting of the many children on the bus. When I arrived at my stop I hurried off and into my house.

"Avril?" my mom called, she walked out of the kitchen and watched me drop my book bag off at the cubbies she has in the entryway.

"Yeah?"

"Are you ready to go?"

Ugh, no way in hell! But it wasn't like putting it off would do any good. So I nodded and headed out to our family car. My mom placed her purse in between the seats and started the car. I fiddled with the radio dial until I found a rock station. I didn't think I could handle pop music-too happy or too depressed. And I can't stand country music. It's just so…twangy to me.

My mom looked at me and her eyes seemed to be too sad. I groaned, thinking about dad again. They weren't getting along and that wasn't good. You know how sometimes parents stay together just for the kids? I could tell they were headed for a divorce.

When we got to the doctor's we sat in the waiting room. I flipped through last year's November edition of Parenting. I swear to God, it is so ridiculous about how they never have any good magazines, not to mention RECENT!!!

"Avril?" the nurse called. There was no need for last names, how many kids do you know named Avril? I did see a few people crane their necks, looking for Avril Lavigne. LOL, people are so weird, do they honestly not notice things? Such as the fact that there are no celebrities in the waiting room?

"Hello, Avril," Doctor Michael McDonald said as he entered the room. I looked up at him. He had thick red hair and I often found that ironic and extremely funny.

"Hey, Ronald," I said. He smirked and sat down. He looked at all the tests the nurses had run prior to him getting in the room.

"How do you feel?"

"Terrific, did I tell you I maxed out a credit card?" I said sarcastically. Then I continued, "Oh, and the people at Barnes & Noble are going to send me a huge basket of flowers at my funeral, they're going to miss me so much."

He grimaced, "Are you always this sarcastic?"

"I don't know, you tell me." Dr. McDonald sighed and looked through his charts again.

"Prognosis is still the same…"

"The end of the year," I muttered angrily. "I'll die at the end of the school year. It's rapidly approaching. This is not fair!"

"I know, but terminal cancer sometimes are-"

"Why do I even have to come here?" I asked, cutting him off. "If I'm going to die why bother?"

I hated that. I was too young to die. Too young…too young…

I was reminded of Johnny Cade dying at sixteen and Dally dying at seventeen. I remembered all the books that would come out after my death. The movies…the places I wanted to go…

"Do you think…in heaven…God has a library?" I said softly.

Dr. McDonald's face softened, "I'm sure they do."