October.

October to January have always been my favourite months. The house is warm, the air is cold. Missy really goes all out in decorating the house for each holiday. Mrs Fisher makes theeee best hot chocolate. There's something about Fall and Winter that is just magical.

"Claire," Miss Lewis, the school counselor and advisor, stops by my locker. "What class do you have right now?"

"Um, Photo."

"Come chat in my office, I'll tell your photo teacher."

I put my camera back in my locker and follow Miss Lewis to her office. I've only been in here one other time: a week before the start of eighth grade to pick up my schedule. I sit in one of the two cushy chairs on one side of her desk. I can't help but notice how messy her desk is -random papers scattered everywhere, an empty water bottle, an empty coffee mug, and her computer is coated in a nice layer of desk. She's a counselor..how is she going to help us get our lives in order if she can't even keep her desk in order?

"How're you doing, Claire?"

"Fine, thank you."

Miss Lewis leans back in her chair and smiles at me. Doesn't say anything. Doesn't move. Is she even blinking? I shift awkwardly in my seat. Suddenly, she snaps back into attention and grabs her empty coffee mug. She puts it to her mouth and takes a sip...even though it's empty. "So. Claire. What did you need to talk about?"

"Um, Miss Lewis, you called me in here. I..assumed you had to talk to me about something."

"Oh! Oh, yes! Right! Okay." She glances at her dusty computer monitor. "Claire, it says here that you're missing six assignments. If you continue the school year like this, there's a good chance you'll have too many missing assignments to pass eleventh grade."

Oh. Well. I hadn't realized it was six assignments... "I'm just...really busy," I tell her. "I can do them now and hand them in."

"No point," Miss Lewis sighs. "If it's been more than a week since they were due, you've recieved a zero on them. Which is the case with all six of them."

Six zeroes and we've been in school seven weeks...mom is going to be livid. "It also says," Miss Lewis looks again at her computer. "You've missed eight days of school already with unexcused absenses. Listen, sweetie, you have to start working harder."

I nod. She's right -I do really need to work harder. I just don't have the time for homework and I can't find myself focusing for a full seventy-five minutes in class. By the time I get home from the hospital at ten, I'm exhausted and pass right out. "I'm sorry."

"You'd better get to class now -and remember to do any homework you get from it!"

I open her door, but it hits something. Harris Fisher moves out of the way and rubs his side, where the door hit him. "Watch what you're doing," he mutters, then realizes its me. "Hey."

"Hi," I mumble.

Over the past month, Harris and I have spoken more than we have in the entire ten years that we've known each other, even though we've spoken mostly one syllable words.

"Sup?" He nods towards Miss Lewis' office. He needs a haircut. Well need wouldn't be the right word, it looks nice long, but it gets in his eyes if he flicks his head too hard.

"Uh, Miss Lewis wanted to talk to me," I shrug.

His green eyes cloud over slightly. "What, pressing for details about Cam?"

My lips part slightly, shocked. Has Harris ever spoken a full sentence to me? Don't think so... "Uh, no. About my grades."

He grunts something, going back to the one syllable thing. If a grunt can be considered a single syllable. "I was hoping she'd write me a note to get out of class this afternoon."

I nod and make a move to walk past him and continue on my way to class, but he shuffles and blocks my path. He looks at me awkwardly and uncomfortably and squints his green eyes and scratches the back of his neck. "Look, do you wanna come?"

"To ask her to get you out of class?"

"No," he relaxes for a second and laughs, then quickly grows uncomfortable again. "Uh, wherever I'm going when I get out of class. I just...need to get out of here for a little bit. I was thinking of going for a drive. I thought maybe you might be feeling the same way. You don't...you know, have to talk to me or anything. But it'll get you out of here."

I stare at him, reallyyy shocked this time, trying to comprehend what he just said. Harris has never spoken to me more. But he's right, I do feel the same way. "Um, okay," I bite my lip. "What time are you planning on leaving?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. Like one?"

"Okay," I nod. "I um..will see you then, then."

"Yeah?" He nods. "Wait, do you want me to get her to sign you out too?"

I hesitate. There's no way Miss Lewis will willingly sign me out of class, after going through my folder. "Uh, that's okay, I'll just meet you here."

A sneaky glint flashes in Harris' eyes, one that always flashes in Cam's too, and he half smiles. "Sneaking out?"

I blush. Busted. "I'll see you at one."

The day passes. I try to concentrate in my classes, I really do, but my attention span has disintegrated. I don't go to my class after lunch, instead waiting around in the parking lot for Harris. He walks out and nods at me. "Anywhere specific you, uh, wanna go?"

I shrug. "Anywhere." I brought along my iPod to listen to music, because if Harris is anything like Cam, he has awful taste in music. Besides, Harris said its not like we had to talk, which, given our awkward semi-conversations, is a good thing.

We set out on the road. I close my eyes and can't help but think of Cam. We'd always had plans -once we got our licenses we could go anywhere. Drive to Manhattan, Canada. Vegas to get married. Cam and I would always promptly burst into hysterics when that one was brought up.

An hour passes. At some point, Harris had gotten on the highway. He keeps his eyes on the road, hands clenched on the wheel. I study him in profile: shaggy black-brown hair, tanned skin, green eyes with dark dark dark lashes, tiny freckles, same lips and nose as Cam. I don't think Cam has freckles.

Harris catches me staring but doesn't call me out. Instead he says "You disappear into your head a lot."

"I know."

"What do girls even think about? Shoes?"

"Probably," I shrug, thinking of Massie.

"Not you?"

"Not me."

"What do you think about?"

"Lately...Cam. Life. And death. And the amount of trouble I'd get in if my mom knew how much homework I was missing."

Harris is quiet for a little bit, so I turn to my surroundings. Forest whizzes past us. Few cars are on the highway, probably because it's a Wednesday afternoon. Finally, Harris whispers "It's not fair, Claire."

I think that's the first time Harris has ever said my name. I try to push the shock aside for later so I can answer him. Though he didn't specify what's not fair, I know. "It's not."

"Why Cam? Why my brother?! He's such a...such a..." he trails off and quickly wipes a tear away. My heart breaks a little bit.

"He's Cam," I whisper. "There's no other way to describe him." He's Cam -golden boy, soccer star, A-plus student, hilarious, sweet. My rock. My best friend.

Harris pulls over on the side of the highway, which I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to do. "I just...I just don't get how. Or why."

"It's cancer. There is no how or why."

"The house is so fucking quiet without you and him," he turns to look at me. I didn't know that, hadn't thought of that. "My parents are arguing all the time."

Oh. I can't picture Mr and Mrs Fisher arguing -they're always so in love. Cam and I used to catch them making out in the kitchen like they were teenagers. "I'm..." I trail off, not wanting to say 'I'm sorry'. Harris is probably as sick of that as I am.

"I hate it."

"I hate it too," Harris agrees. "I'm so fucking sick of people looking at me with that stupid look in their eyes. Like they feel bad for me. Like 'oh sorry, your brother is dying...but boy am I glad I'm not in your position!' You know?!"

I do know. Harris summed up exactly how they look at me. At him. "I know," I whisper, wanting to cry but not wanting Harris to see me cry.

"I can't stand seeing him so..so..." Harris trails off, not knowing how to describe it. "He just lies there. Sick. Dying. When it's the last...the last few months, he's going to be so weak. I can't stand the thought of seeing him like that, Cam's so strong."

I hadn't thought ahead. To the part when Cam suffers. I just think of after...about me. A sob escapes me, and I put my face into my hands. Harris looks startled, but is quick to rub my back soothingly, albeit a little awkwardly.

"Claire, I'm sorry..I didn't mean to..I didn't invite you along just to make you think of Cam. I'm sorry."

I shake my head. "It's not that," I tell him, once my sobs had subsided. My face feels hot and my body feels tired. "I just feel selfish. All of this time I've been thinking about how I'm going to be after he..." I trail off, not wanting to say dies. "Its never crossed my mind that he's going to suffer. Or be afraid. Or..."

"That's natural, Claire," Harris mumbles. "Trust me, I felt that way too. Then I just...I dunno. I thought of my baby brother and how he used to be so scared to go to sleep in case monsters got him in the night. And it made me wonder if he's scared to go to sleep now, in case...well in case cancer gets him in the night."

That makes me start crying again, and I see Harris angrily swipe at his tears. Once I've calmed myself again, I tell him "You can cry in front of me. I obviously am not in a place to judge," I point to my face, which I'm sure is red and streaked with snot, tears and mascara.

He snorts. "Definitely not the prettiest flower in the field," he chuckles, then wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

I sigh a long, shuddering breath. "Harris, can we go back now?"

"Yeah...I...uh, thanks for, you know, coming with me," Harris says, and we're back to awkward conversations.

It makes me long for Cam, and how we'd talk and talk and talk for hours, about everything and anything. It was easy. Perfect. I look at the glowing clock and gasp. Is is eight pm already?! Visiting hours are over in an hour, and it'll take at least that to get home. A whole day without seeing Cam.

My days settle into a routine. Wake up, text Cam. Get ready for school. Sleep through the majority of my classes. Awkwardly talk to Derrick at my locker. Skip lunch to call Cam. Sleep through last class. Awkwardly talk to Harris on our way to the hospital. Watch some dumb sport on TV with Harris and Cam. Awkwardly say bye to Harris. Stay with Cam until nine. Go home. Ignore parents. Attempt homework. Fall asleep. Repeat.

Occasionally, if its a day that Cam's gone through treatment, Harris doesn't come because he doesn't like seeing Cam post-chemo. So its just me and Cam, but he's usually to tired or sick to talk. But I hold a bucket for him when he's sick and smooth his hair back and get a cool, damp cloth to lay over his eyes.

"You're like a mom," he laughs weakly after a particularily bad day.

I giggle and run my fingers through his hair. "Do you want to sleep?"

Cam shakes his head. "I'd rather talk to you. Anymore questions for me?"

Lately, I'd been asking Cam a lot of questions and writing down his answers. He never asks me why I do this, and I never volunteer an answer. But its so that one day, if memories of Cam start to slip away, I can pull out my notebook and read all of his answers and just remember.

"I'm sure I can think of some," I pull my notebook and a purple pen out of my bag. "Favourite movie?"

"Dirty Dancing."

I giggle and wrinkle my nose. "You're such a girl."

"You've been my best friend since like second grade," he chuckles, but keeps his eyes closed. "You're bad taste has rubbed off on me throughout the years."

I laugh. "Why haven't you had any serious girlfriends?" I ask, because it's something I've always wondered.

Cam's silent for a moment and I wonder if maybe he's fallen asleep. "Because I've always had you."

"What do you mean?" I ask, forgetting to write down the answer.

"You're always going to be the number one girl in my life. Girls are high maintenance and I don't think any girlfriends of mine would've understood our friendship."

"So...you never asked anyone out because of me?"

"Yeah. But not in a bad way, Claire. The way I see it is, girlfriends would've caused drama. They wouldn't have understood how much you mean to me, and it would've made them jealous. Besides, why would I even need a girlfriend if I have you?"

I don't say anything. A nice warm feeling spreads through me at Cam's words, but I also feel a little guilty. If he was into someone, he should've just asked someone out.

"And its not like I never got any action."

"Wait, what?!" I lean forward and widen my eyes. Cam opens a single eye to gauge my reaction and laughs.

"Well there was Alicia. And Kristen, from history class? And Massie Block..." he trails off, watching me with a smirk.

"No way! And you never told me?!"

He shrugs. "The high maintenance thing goes both ways, Claire. You wouldn't be impressed if I told you I'd hooked up with Massie Block."

I purse my lips. "Well..no. Massie Block, Cam?! Massie Block! She's...she's a troll!"

Cam laughs. "This is why I never told you!"

I laugh too. "I can't believe you didn't tell me," I swat him on the shoulder. Is his shoulder feeling a little bony? Maybe it's just my imagination.

A young nurse walks into the room. She's very blonde and very pretty. "I love hearing all the laughter coming out of this room," she smiles at Cam, and Cam beams back. Typical. "And I hate to break it up, but visiting hours are over." She smiles apologetically at me before leaving.

I stand up and collect my notebook and backpack. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Can you bring Dirty Dancing?" Cam asks, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Yes," I lean down to kiss him on the cheek. "Now go to sleep."