cancer

chapter ten
angels


I twisted on the mattress, trying to find the correct position of comfort. My head was aching, and my entire body seemed to burn. I had felt fine yesterday, but today I felt so weak. I could barely move as I weakly gripped the pillow with my pale hand. I felt the door creaking, but I didn't have enough energy to look up. The mattress sunk, signaling another person's body weight, and then I felt cool hands running through my hair.

"Pony told me you weren't feeling well," the deep, soft voice said. The fingers were still rubbing against my scalp, making my eyelids droop with weariness. Darry. He released his grip, smoothing out my hair. "I brought you food."

That made me look up, my smile timid as I sat up. I knew my hair was probably in disarray and my clothes crumpled, but I paid no heed as I gratefully accepted the chicken noodle soup. My icy hands thawed from the sheer heat of the soup, and my entire body seemed to warm from the salty liquid. "Thank you," I rasped out, making Darry return the gesture with a fond smile. But anyone could see the true worry in his eyes.

He kept rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles repeatedly, his blue eyes on me as he watched me finish the rest of my soup. "Good?" he asked, which I confirmed with a light nod. He took the bowl from me, setting it on the desk before turning back to me. "I have to… talk to you about something."

"Hm?"

"I"—he breathed in deeply, then began again, "Pony, Soda, and me can't stand seeing you like this." I opened my mouth to speak, my eyes dancing with confusion but he got up, starting to pace around the room. "The entire gang has accepted you as family and we all can't stand seeing you like this. You're getting sicker and weaker and – I just don't get why you don't want help…"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice trembling. I truly was afraid of how Darry was reacting. "I would do anything for a treatment—"

"I'm not talking about the treatment, Dan." His voice was indescribably hard, "I'm talking about keeping this a secret to the gang." His eyes softened, albeit for a moment, "Why don't you want them to know?"

I didn't know what to say—what could I say? I bit my lip, nearly drawing blood as my gray eyes welled up with tears, "It's none of their business." My voice trembled at the end, unsuccessfully allowing a tear to drip from my eye. "And b-because if I tell them, they'd look at me differently. They'd ask me constantly if I needed help, if I was okay, if I needed to go to see the doctor…" I inhaled slowly. "Because the only feeling they'll feel for me would be sympathy."

"You've got six months," Darry said, his voice shaking. "You have to tell them."

"I can't," I said, hands quavering. "They'd all… they'd all just hurt me… and I can't deal with anymore hurt, Dar."

His hands immediately brushed my eyes, a single, lone tear dripping from his own eye. "I know. I'm sorry but we're not like your father." He ignored my cringe. "We'd never hurt you like that – you're family now. We love you."

"I know," I said, turning my head, "Just give me time."

He must have known I was lying because he turned my head with his hand, looking at me sharply, "Danny."

"I will…" I assured him softly, though inside my head, I was questioning myself. "Just not now—give me time," I repeated, tilting my head up towards the ceiling for a second before connecting my eyes back with Darry's. "Please."

"Just promise you'll tell them," Darry said, his smile weary. We were both distracted with each other, we hadn't realized that the door had creaked open and someone was standing right there.

"Tell who what?" a joking voice asked, and both of us, startled, glanced up to see Two-Bit standing by the doorpost. He raised an eyebrow at our astounded expressions and straightened his slightly slouched back before smirking. His eyes stared at my slightly pale face and red eyes, as if calculating something.

"Nothing," I said immediately, pushing myself further into the pillow, almost as if trying to get away from him.

"Give us a minute," Darry said, sending a stern glance at Two-Bit. He shrugged before slamming the door behind him, and Darry turned back to me. "Promise me, Danny."

"I don't make promises," I said quietly, fingering the sheets lightly. "But I'll try."

darry

"What was that about?" Two-Bit questioned as Darry walked into the kitchen.

"What was what about?" Darry said numbly, barely glancing at the teen before grabbing his now-chilled cup of coffee. He had watched silently as Danny had walked out the front door, saying she needed a little time to think. With a reminder to wear her jacket, Darry had backed off. He knew that he was being a little too protective, but he loved her. She was his sweetheart cousin, and she meant the world to him—just like Ponyboy and Sodapop.

Two-Bit looked at him, his smirk fading into seriousness, "Darry, something's up, and I'm going to figure out what."

Darry was too startled to realize what happened until Two-Bit walked out of the kitchen, his cool demeanor long gone. The slam of the door, the revving of an engine—those were the familiar sounds that he was used to. He sighed, placing his cup down, rubbing the side of his temple. "Shit."

end darry

I snuggled closer into the warmth of my sweater jacket. It was only a summer afternoon, but I felt colder than usual. My dirtied shoes crunched against the iridescent leaves, leaving me confused. I didn't know what to think anymore—I didn't know why Darry had been so strong on his opinion of me telling the gang. It wasn't that important, was it? I kicked a pebble and shivered slightly as a cool gust of wind brushed my shoulders.

I needed someone to talk to. Someone who would care.

It was almost as if my prayers were answered.

"Danielle?" The voice startled me from my musings and I looked up to see Evan walking towards me. This time he wasn't surrounded by his commanding cronies. I remembered the last time I saw him—though the memory wasn't as refreshing as I would have liked—he still looked gorgeous. His face was sharp, his features neatly outlined. His hair was curly and soft, different from the usual greased heads I saw. His eyes matched his brown hair, just a bit lighter. He was dressed neatly in a nice pair of jeans and a cardigan, his stroll sweet, hands stuffed in pockets.

In a couple seconds, he was right in front of me, a diminutive smile etched on his face. "Hi," he murmured softly, his long lashes brushing the tips of skin underneath his eyes.

"Hi," I replied softly, reciprocating a smaller version of his smile.

"We really didn't get to talk before," he said, the heels of his expensive loafers scuffing the ground. He looked nervous, and guilty I could tell. Evan had never gotten guilty when we hung out as kids. This proved what little I knew about him, and how much we had all changed.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, disregarding his comment. This was the North side, and I knew for a fact that all the Socs lived in the South side—the much wealthier side of town. The side of town with the neatly cut lawns, the pretty cars, the pretty girls and the luxurious clothes.

"I came to see you," he said, surprising me. He didn't even let me speak, already starting to ramble, "What happened to us, Dan? We used to be best friends… Now, we barely talk to each other. Do you even recognize us anymore?"

I rubbed my head, before pointing to his car on the side of the road. I had saw some Greasers passing it with looks of interest, "That happened. I don't recognize you like I used to—the Evan that I used to know never cared about social status or clothes." And it was true—as kids, we hadn't given two shits about the social organization of the town. We had just been Evan and Danny—Danny and Evan. Now it was Greaser and Soc. "We'd talk about nothing and still have the most intoxicating conversations ever."

Evan's pupils dilated, obviously as he remembered, a reverie-type smile on his face. "I miss you, Danny."

"I miss you too," I said sincerely, "but things have changed now."

"How?" Evan asked, raising his eyebrows in incredulous disbelief. "You're the same Danny I've always known—and you could probably live with me if you really wanted to. I could ask my mom, we could everything set up. I'm sure she remembers you from before…"

"I can't leave my family, Evan," I whispered in a strained voice, keeping my eyes on the ground. "It's not right, especially with everything they've done for me."

"They're Greasers, Dan. Hoodlums. They're this big pack of liars, who steal and cheat—" he muttered irritably, making me wince slightly.

"They're still my family," I said, my throat closing up. "They will always be, and I love them. They're not the way you think they are, Evan." I finally glanced up to look at him, seeing his choked expression and his sad eyes. Just as he was about to speak, my legs started to wobble. I was just about to topple backwards, when he caught my arm clumsily, pulling me towards him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, searching my eyes.

I nodded sourly as my head rested tentatively against the hard planes of his sweater clad chest. "I'm just a little tired," I whispered softly. And suddenly, it felt as if this was the moment. It felt like right now was the time to tell Evan, to tell him of the news I had been struck with. My heart seemed to pump a little quicker as I held onto him a little tighter. "Can I ask you something?" I asked, not realizing we were in the middle of the street.

"Of course," he responded immediately, making me smile.

"I…" How was I supposed to tell him this? My entire body went numb and the words dried out on my tongue. "Y-you're my best friend, okay?" I had backed out of that situation too quickly. My eyes closed as I felt a couple tears drip out from them.

His grip seemed to tighten on my wrists considerably, and I felt him sigh. His heart was beating in a repetitive rhythm against his ribcage. "You're my best friend too, Danny."

I had never heard words so sweet.