CHAPTER THREE: Surprise

On that eventful day, I was absent from school. I gave the principal the excuse that I had to go to the hospital. However, there was a misconception that people always assume. I was the sick one, the one who was dying, not Daddy. Daddy was feeble emotionally but physically healthy.

Every night before my trip to the hospital, I would collapse in my room, crying till my eyes swelled, sinking my teeth into the blanket so that it would submerge my cries. That night was no different. I wept till crying ebbed away my consciousness.

I might as well admit: I am afraid of hospitals.

This phobia developed during my chemotherapies. The anguish was so intense that I, shamefully, had thought that death would be a more painless alternative. This fear was greatly amplified after the doctor had diagnosed my illness to be terminal. Nevertheless, I still overcame the symptoms of this phobia – quivering fingers, stammers, and tears.

So far, my condition had not worsened, yet. I could still feel the invigorate animation of life within my muscles. The downfall had not arrived yet. I was sustaining my efforts to be healthy just for the Christmas play – for Daddy.

It was the first of the consecutive blessings of that eventful day. I had prepared lemonade for Daddy and was picking up the Bible to indulge myself when the bell suddenly rang. It was only ten to four – too early for Dad to return. Plus, Dad's return was usually accompanied with the jingles of bells. Who could it be? I went for the door. Could it be Ms. Garber who wanted to discuss about the play? Or could it be…

I almost cried in astonishment and would collapse if I had not held on to the doorknob. Landon!

"Landon, this is a surprise!" I exclaimed hysterically in delight, startled. "You look like you've been exercising."

He gave a weak smile. "Not really." He wiped his eyebrow filled with loose beads of perspiration – it gave him away.

"You've sweat clean through your shirt."

"Oh, that?" He looked down. "That's nothing. I just sweat a lot sometimes."

Of course he did. "Maybe you should have it checked by a doctor," I blabbered out uncontrollably. Did I just say it? It would give myself away!

"I'll be okay, I'm sure."

I tried to compose a pleasant smile. "I'll say a prayer for you anyway."

"Thanks." I nodded, suddenly feeling uneasy and nervous. Probably the surprise of Landon's arrival had worn off, I suddenly felt self-conscious. I did not tidy up my hair. My attire…it was unkempt. Oh, no. And there he was, standing in the door. Where were my manners?

"Well," I broke the silence, "I'd invite you in, but my father isn't home, and he doesn't allow boys in the house while he's not around."

"Oh, that's okay. We can talk out here, I guess."

I sent an apologetic smile, but the apology was not conveyed, as Landon seemed to have something going on in his mind. Something urgent, probably.

"Would you like some lemonade while we sit? I just made some." I would sacrifice my cup for him, sure.

"I'd love some."

"I'll be right back."

I excused myself. I was jumpy, frenzied, suddenly. A boy – not just an ordinary boy – was at the door of my house! How often did that ever occur? Never. Composing myself was quite a task, but I managed it eventually. I served the cup of lemonade to the porch.

Mrs. Hastings, my neighbor, passed. I waved pleasantly. I also noticed from the corner of my eyes, that Landon was shifting his chair in an awkward manner. Something was up.

"What are you doing? You're moving your chair into the sun."

"I like the sun," he replied. He was one weird boy, but still affable.

"If that's what you want," I shrugged. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

He breathed deeply, conflict raging in his eyes. A battle, I assumed, was ongoing in his mind. A battle almost lost, perhaps, because he sighed lightly.

"So, you were at the orphanage today?"

I blinked. Was that what he took so much trouble to ask?

"No. My father and I were at the doctor's office." I tried to sound casual.

"Is he okay?"

I heaved a sigh of relief in my mind. Another misconception, of course. No one would suspect that I, a teenager, would have any health problems.

I summoned my best smile. "Healthy as can be."

There was a deep silence. An uneasy silence that got on my nerve. What did he want?

"Sure is a beautiful day." A very typical response from a guy.

"Yes, it is," I played along with his side conversation.

"Warm, too."

"That's because you're in the sun."

He shuffled nervously. "Why, I'll bet there's not a single cloud in the whole sky."

I remained silent. Talking about the weather was pathetic.

"Landon," I called. "You didn't come here to talk about the weather, did you?"

"Not really," he finally admitted.

"Then why are you here?"

Conflict warred in his irises again. A massive one.

"Well…" he began. "I wanted to know if you were going to the homecoming dance."

Was he advertising? I had even forgotten about that dance.

"Oh," I replied. I would be frank, but I was not sure if it would hurt his feelings, being the president of student council. "I really hadn't planned on going."

"But if someone asked you to go, you might?"

It stumped me.

"I'm not sure," I murmured unconfidently after moments of deep consideration. "I suppose I might go, if I got the chance. I've never been to a homecoming dance before."

"They're fun," he anxiously replied. "Nottoo much fun, but fun."

I chuckled lightly. "I'd have to talk to my father, of course, but if he said it was okay, then I guess I could."

Landon looked up, brows twitching, lips quivering even under the sun. It took him quite a considerable amount of time to assemble his courage before he said, "Well, would you like to go to the dance with me?"

It certainly struck me, stunned. I never expected the conversation to take this turn. A president asking me out? Landon Carter? I would not even try to dream of it. I was stupefied, dumbfounded. If I didn't have this disease, if I wasn't dying, I would agree instantly without even a slight hesitation. But Providence took its role.

I promised myself to never hurt anyone. If this "date" would not have any result, I would surely agree. On a second thought, would Landon even fall in love with such a girl like me? A dying, insipid, unpopular girl?

I turned to him. "I'd love to." I could immediately see the relief in his eyes, the gratefulness. "On one condition," I added.

He was taken aback. "Yes?"

"You have to promise that you won't fall in love with me." This statement burdened huge gravity upon it, but Landon just shirked it off with a laugh.

"Of course, I promise." He grinned back at me.

I suddenly felt light and free. I was flying.