The Story of a Dying Girl

Troy and Abed in the morning!

Hey. So yes, school has started, and I am already prepared for the summer. Thank you so much for reviewing and favoriting and following and reading. I know, I know, I'm a broken record. I just started working on Chapter 13.

As for Emily's cancer, I never did say what type it was, but I would say that she has leukemia. I am doing a bit of research on chemo and what happens, so please, if anything is wrong, or if you feel like something could be better in terms of that, feel free to tell me, and I will be happy make changes. The last thing I would want is to be insensitive or treat it way too lightly.

Enjoy!

Chapter 10:

Cook going on a date with Katie and me lying with Emily as the rain hit her roof was two week ago.

His date had gone well, but they were currently, as Cook would say, pussyfooting around.

They had two more dates, and whenever they were around each other, they were kinda shy.

I have never seen Cook or Katie being shy in my whole entire life.

That was always my thing or Emily's thing.

They had always been the loud ones, the ones who never acted shy or vulnerable.

Cook was always the one who would suggest that we steal candy when we were kids, or that we should see if we could get a lost ball back from neighbors.

Not that I was against it, it was just he was always loud and out there, and sometimes I just sat back, which is just one of the many reasons our friendship works so well.

But I digress.

They were nervous, and I found the whole thing to be funny, to be honest.

Like, have you ever seen Cook blush?

Yeah, me neither until recently.

If this happens, it's only a matter of time before complete word destruction or pigs fly, or something else that's not supposed to happen happens.

You get the point.

It's nearing Christmas.

The neighbors have their lights set up all around their roofs and all those Christmas specials are being showed on repeat, like some never ending cycle.

Cook and I had bought Paddy his bike, black with bright red flames illuminating on the sides.

"My little bro will not have a pussy bike," he had said as we looked at all the bikes arranged neatly in a row.

So we got Paddy the least pussy bike we could find.

Or, I guess, Santa had gotten Paddy the least pussy bike his elves could make.

My gift had been two action figures, not an aquaman one, because you know, fuck aquaman, and a supersoaker.

I think Paddy will be quite pleased with his non-pussy gifts.

I had gotten Cook some spliffs, good shit, not any crap that the stoners at school carried around in their little baggies. I had gotten him some other shit too, but it's not really important, or at least, not right now.

No, I had bigger priorities:

I had no gift for Emily.

And no, it's not because I'm a lazy prick who hasn't even bothered to look, despite knowing just how much this means to her.

No, I've looked.

I've looked for whatever I thought she would like.

But here's the problem:

There are plenty of things she likes. There are many.

But none of them are perfect.

It has to be perfect

It has to be something that puts a smile on her face so large, that it stays for the rest of the day.

But where am I gonna find that?

It's currently the 21st.

And I'm screwed.

How the hell am I gonna find something so truly incredible for her in just four days?

I hate to say it.

I really hate to say this.

But I will:

I need a Christmas miracle.

Sorry, it was just so fucking cheesy.

Jesus, I mean, a Christmas miracle? Really Naomi? For fuck's sake I've gone soft.

Throw me in a cup of hot chocolate or roast me over a fire, 'cause I'm just a big fucking marshmallow.

So here I am, in a fucking shopping mall with Cook, stuck with all the other tossers looking for presents.

Oh, and guess what:

Cook is going shopping for a gift for Katie.

Oh how I teased that fucker for that.

He tells me I'm whipped?

I mean, I totally am… but that's not the point.

"What about this?" He asks, pointing to a sunglasses kiosk.

"Why the fuck are sunglasses being sold? It's winter dipshits."

"Alright… what about that?" He's pointing at a store selling makeup.

"What kinda message would that send her? Hey, here's makeup, you need it. She's bloody gorgeous, she doesn't need any of that shit."

"That?" He's pointing at a store selling phone cases.

"No," I say simply, getting really tired of walking around, trying and willing to find some perfect present that probably doesn't even exist.

Nothing would ever be good enough.

Cook had settled on a nice looking pair of earrings for Katie.

And I had settled on nothing but air.

So basically, I was fucked, and not in a good sense.

I had nothing, nada, zip, nil… some other way to emphasize that I had not a thing and was completely, and royally screwed.

It was snowing as I walked outside to Cook's mum's car.

The ground covered in white that looked admittedly magical and wonderful. It was coated and looked very… pretty I guess, but I don't know if that's really the way to describe it.

But pretty is as close as I think I'll be able to get, well, that and magical, even though that sounds cliché.

I had begun to realize that sometimes clichés weren't that bad, really.

Had you asked me a while ago I would have gone into detail telling you how terrible and stupid they really are, but by now I had experienced a lot more of them, and I realized that some of the things that made me happiest were clichés.

Stargazing with Emily, building snow forts with Paddy and Cook, listening to the rain as it lulled me to sleep.

I might have objected to them being clichés, but I was beginning to see that it was okay to accept that the things that made me happy were ridiculously cheesy.

Cook and I got into the car and we began to drive over to his house, the snow still falling lightly and the streets had snowmen sitting in front of almost house, and there were kids throwing snow balls and yelling out and making snow angels and all those other snow day things.

We walked into the house, the warm air a welcome change to the bitter cold that hit hard.

The few presents were waiting under the tree, wrapped and ready for Paddy to tear them open on Christmas morning. His non-pussy bike was hidden in Cook's closet

The tree was kinda slumped, with a few more cheap and last minute ornaments that Paddy had enthusiastically put on, practically jumping and I felt kinda bad, because who knows where their mum was at the moment, probably yelling at someone somewhere else, and I felt like kinda a let down.

Paddy deserved one of those huge trees that hit the ceiling and was covered in beautiful, carefully crafted ornaments, and there should be gifts and gifts galore waiting for him under the tree, his for the taking.

He and Cook deserved a mum who wasn't drunk or yelling and they deserved a dad who was there and they deserved a lot more.

But I guess most people do.

Mrs. Incart deserved a husband who loved her and Mum deserved to always be happy, and Emily deserved an amazing Christmas gift, and to not have cancer, but I guess no one deserves that.

But it's hard to think about.

It really, truly is, because she means so much to me, she does, and I don't want to see her be sick and be in pain.

But, I really don't want to talk about it now.

I don't think I can before I start to feel sick.

But I'm sitting on the couch in Cook's house, and now all I can think of is Emily.

How the hell did I go 18 years without being her girlfriend?

I don't think I could go one day without even thinking about her anymore.

I think about her when she's not around, and when she is, everything makes sense, but I'm not really sure why. And I would do anything to make her smile, and I don't care that I've watched the Princess Bride so many times because she always loves it, and it makes me happy when she's happy and I want to spend so much time with her and she makes me feel like I matter, even if I don't.

Does that make sense?

In the grand scheme of things, I do not matter, but when I'm with her, I feel like I do.

There are not many people who make me feel like that.

And we've been dating for over a month, and I don't know when I've ever been happier and…

Is this love?

I think I love her.

Wait…

I love her.

I love her.

I love her.

I love Emily Fitch.

Holy fuck.

I, Naomi Campbell, love Emily Fitch.

"Holy shit, I love her," I breathe out, smiling at my realization.

Cook whips his head over to where I am, looking at me intently.

"What'd you say Blondie?" He asks, and I can hear his smile.

"I love her," I say a bit louder.

How did I not realize?

How the hell was I that oblivious?

"Fucking called it," he says before taking another sip, and I turn to see his huge smile, grinning and kinda laughing, like he can't believe I just figured it out.

"Took you long enough."

"I love her," I say again, because it's the only thing I can really think of.

I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her.

I'm in love with her, and…

What if she doesn't feel the same way?

Oh, fuck.

What if I tell her I love her and she doesn't feel the same and she rejects me because the whole thing is awkward and then she starts to scream at me because I'm just a fucking twatting idiot who fucked everything up because I shared my feelings and I'm labeled a tosser and she stops speaking to me and then I live a very unhappy life because I love her and she doesn't love me and-

"Naomikins."

-she finds someone way better who probably deserves her more and I'm just the idiot who's pining after her while she's probably laughing 'cause I'm such a fucking loser and-

"Naomio."

-and she ends up hating me because I ruined everything and she won't ever love me and-

"Blondie!"

I break from my silent panic and look over at Cook who's looking at me like I'm crazy, which I'm convinced I may actually be because my thoughts are racing at speeds that shouldn't be possible and I don't even understand what's going inside within my own head.

"You look like you're going insane over there."

Thank you for pointing out the obvious Cook. Please, inform me what color hair I have. Or, maybe the color of my eyes.

"What if she doesn't feel the same way?"

Now, here's when a good friend would start to reassure their friend, listing off reasons why the other person feels the same way and telling them that the other person loves them a shit ton.

Here's when Cook started to laugh.

Like, actually laugh, turning over to me every few seconds to look at me and start laughing again.

"You done, prick?"

"Are you fucking serious? 'Doesn't feel the same way,' Jesus, you are really fucking blind, and this is coming from me. She fucking loves you, Naomio."

"Really?" I ask, grinning like an idiot, kinda smug and overly enthused at the prospect of her loving me.

"Yeah. Fuck knows why."

I punched his arm.

"I'm great."

"Ehh… You're okay."

"Oh, fuck off."

And still I was smiling like a fucking moron because I couldn't believe how lucky I was.

Imagine that.

Emily might just love me back.

What a lovely thought.

To think that such a truly magnificent and incredible human could love me as much as I love her.

I can feel it.

I can feel my love for her.

Is that odd?

The more I think about it, it just… courses through me.

I love her.

I love her with every fiber of my being.

How the fuck am I going to tell her?

And so here I am, it's Christmas Eve, and I haven't found a gift for Emily, and I haven't told her I love her.

It has to mean something, the gift.

I want it to show her just how much I love her. I want her to be able to tell.

So I could give her a book she wanted, or bows she once looked at in a mall, I could give her some nice earrings, or maybe a nice dinner.

None of those gifts were wrong.

But they just weren't what I wanted to give her.

And so I was lying on my bed, racking my brain for anything and coming up with nothing, when something caught my eye.

It was on the top of my drawer, kinda hidden and secluded, not forgotten about, but not being given any attention.

The necklace Tina gave me.

Let me describe it to you. I'm going to warn you though, I do not think that this will be very interesting, or that you will enjoy me describing this necklace in detail, but here we go:

It was a rather nice looking, poshy sort of necklace, and on it hung a beautifully crafted, small heart, intricate designs running through it, emphasizing the heart and it's beauty.

It was very nice looking.

And it was also the perfect gift.

Now, you might be wondering why I would give Emily a necklace that someone I loved a lot gave to me, and was the only thing she really left me, well that a book with all these child like drawings.

I am not a huge fan of jewelry. That is just a fact. And being given the necklace was just a reminder that Tina was losing her memory of me as she got older and older.

But she had given me the book one year for my birthday.

And to me, that is Tina.

When I think of her, when I hear a song that reminds me of her, or I see a book she used to read to me, I think of the book she gave me, because of all the stuff there is, that is the one that I think represented our relationship the best.

Just these innocent, curious drawings, scribbles really, filling page after page and just… sweet.

The necklace means a lot to me too, though, it really does, because even if I didn't like jewelry, and she was forgetting about me, she still cared for me enough to want to give me something hat obviously meant a lot to her.

And so, I want to give something that means a lot to me to Emily.

Because I'd like to think that maybe Tina did not give me the necklace so I could wear it, but maybe she gave it to me so I could give it to someone so truly incredible.

Maybe it was never meant for me.

Maybe it was meant for someone who would mean a lot to me, like the necklace meant to her.

I'd like to think that maybe that was the necklace's role.

And so I sit up enthusiastically, grabbing the necklace, almost tripping and falling flat on my face like a twat.

And so I looked around, practically dumping out every one of my drawers looking for a small little box.

Eventually I found one, black and a bit big, but it would due.

I don't think that she would really care about the box, or at least I hoped not.

I don't think I need to start panicking about finding the perfect box, and I don't think you need to listen to me panicking about finding the perfect box.

I bet Emily has a perfect box.

Goddammit inner, horny, subconscious!

Sorry about that.

Anyways, back to boxes.

Not her box.

Oh, fuck now I'm thinking about her box.

The box for the present.

That box.

So anyways…

I put the present down on my dresser, and climbed into bed, excited like all the kids who were gonna go out and check their stockings first thing in the morning.

I woke up and looked out the window.

Snow was falling and it felt like Christmas to me, kinda magical and sweet.

Mum was just sitting at the coffee table like it was nothing, sipping tea and smiling, flipping through pages of the newspaper.

Part of me thought she might have been completely oblivious to the fact that it was Christmas.

"Merry Christmas love," she said between sips.

"Merry Christmas mum," I said, kissing the top of her head and going out the door, walking through the snow and to Cook's house.

I could hear all those little excited squeals and it made me smile to think of all the people who must be so incredibly happy today.

Paddy was still in his pajamas, sitting on the couch and practically bouncing.

Cook was just smiling.

"Naomi! It's Christmas!" Paddy sprung up and clung to me, squeezing me and repeatedly telling me it was Christmas like I didn't already know.

"Look what Santa got me!" He ran over to the bike and started to hug it like it was the most magical thing he had ever seen in the entirety of the universe.

He had obviously not seen Emily Fitch.

"Cook got me a huge thing of comic books!" He said, gesturing to the ginormous stack of them under the tree.

I could tell he was waiting for what I had for him, so I handed him his presents, and he ripped the open, squealing and laughing and smiling so brightly with unadulterated joy that it was all I could do to not just grab him and kiss his cheek repeatedly.

I passed Cook his presents, and he hugged me, passing me his.

I laughed when I saw a few neatly wrapped spliffs among them.

And there we were, happy family, watching some Christmas movies and laughing at all the right parts and looking occasionally at the snow falling in abundance.

This is Christmas to me.

It's currently 6:47, and I'm walking over to Emily's, dressed nicely, present in hand.

The red door now has a green wreath, and it's almost like the door has finally found a partner.

Mrs. Fitch opens the door and pulls me into a hug, it's tight and kinda awkward for me, but I accept it all the same.

The tree is huge, Christmas tunes blaring and a pleasant smell coming from the kitchen, and all the kids, yes including Katie, are wearing matching festive jumpers.

And Emily still looks so cute, a Christmas bow and a large smile, and I'm hugging her, hugging her and overwhelmed with how much I love her, truly love her.

And then we're eating dinner, and we're talking about Christmas, and I'm trying to pretend that James isn't staring at my tits, or Katie doesn't look sad when she hears about the lack of Christmas at the Cook's, and how Cook stayed at home with his brother instead of coming to dinner because Paddy wasn't feeling well.

And Rob is smiling so largely and Jenna is passing around the food proudly, and Emily is holding my hand, and James is asking me pervy questions.

It all feels nice.

Different, but nice.

Jenna is now washing up, and Rob and James are watching TV, which doesn't really seem fair since she did the cooking, but I guess that's just how it was in this house.

And I think Katie is about to go to her room, so I give her the present Cook had gotten her, and I can't help but notice the way it seems like she genuinely smiles for the first time today, and she passed me back something for him, and then Emily's dragging me upstairs, into her room, and she shuts the door quietly, hoping no one will notice, and turning to me, she smiles.

And now I'm sitting on the bed, and she grabs something of her own, wrapped neatly.

"Okay, so you go first, or I go first?" She asks, sitting cross-legged across from me.

"I'll go first," she says before I can answer, and she's practically jumping as she passes me the small box.

And I open it carefully, unpeeling the tape and trying to make sure she knows I appreciate it, because I do.

There's a necklace, a tiny metal record hanging from it, and when I bring it up to my eye, I can read the inscription:

E + N

Forever

And it's in a little heart, and it makes me smile.

"And that's not all," Emily says, but I'm still distracted by the necklace.

She puts a patch right in front of me, it's a small, red heart.

I look up at her and she's smiling shyly.

"I thought you could sew it on to your jacket… if you want. It's totally up to you. I mean, really, like… don't feel like you have to… it's totally fine if…" I cut her off with a kiss.

"I love them. Thank you Ems." I put the necklace over my head and smile my biggest, most cheesy smile at her, loving the way she instantly looks happier.

And I almost said I love you, Ems. But I'm too afraid of what might happen if I tell her, so instead I don't.

"Uh… here." I pass her the box, which she opens quickly.

"Naoms… it's beautiful…" And she looks completely in awe, like Paddy with his bike.

"Uh… it was my great aunt's. She moved in after my dad left and when mum was uh… well, she moved in and she would take care of me. She gave me this when she died," I say softly, and her eyes are brimming with tears and she's smiling and looking at the necklace like it's the most precious thing she has ever held.

The most precious thing I have ever held is her.

"I can't take it Naoms…"

And I knew she would say that.

"Emily… I really want you to have it."

"Are you sure? Naomi, it obviously means a to you."

Yes, because I can't think of anyone who should wear it more than you.

Yes, because when you smile so brightly it makes me happy, and when Tina smiled, I felt happy, so you deserve it.

Yes, because you mean so much to me.

Yes, because I love you.

"Yes."

And so she clasps it on, and it looks so beautiful on her, and now we're hugging again, and she's buried her head into my neck, a few happy tears trickling onto my neck, and I feel everything right now.

I just feel so much love, so much fucking love.

And I don't mean the love that's thrown around loosely, the word eventually having no meaning if you use it when you don't mean it.

I mean full on, scary and intense, and incredibly beautiful, love.

And I want to tell her so badly.

Because for 18 years I have been scared of rejection. I am scared that no one will care, that no one will agree with what I say and they will all laugh.

But if I had let my fears gotten in the way, I wouldn't have kissed Emily, and I wouldn't have asked her on a date, and I wouldn't have asked her to be my girlfriend.

"I love you," I say it so gently, because sometimes that's how it is. Sometimes love is just so gentle and sweet.

And I can feel her grip me a little tighter, and there's a bit of a catch in her throat.

"I love you too. I love you so fucking much."

Do you know that feeling you get when you have the perfect day? You hit all those green lights when you were in a rush, and your boss wasn't a dick and was actually kinda pleasant, and that thing you didn't want to do was cancelled, and your favorite movie is playing on TV, and you catch it just in time.

I feel like I have had ten perfect days in one.

It feels like everything.

And I don't think I can think of a time I was so happy, with this girl who held me and this incredibly amazing person who loved me.

What a thing, to be loved by someone who means the world to you.

It is a feeling I whole-heartedly recommend.

And I say it again.

"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you."

Because I can.

"I love you too Naoms."

Because I can hear that every time in response.

The snow is falling, and the Christmas movies are making their last appearances for the year, and Christmas jumpers are being pushed back into the deep dark corners of the closet, and it seems a bit sad, for it to be ending, but then I look down.

I look at the girl who is asleep with her head on my chest, and I don't think I can be sad.

I love this girl so fucking much.

Yep.

I really do love Christmas.

So, like I said, I am currently working on chapter 13 of the story. Also, I learned something:

I am not very good at writing sex scenes.

One is coming soon, and really, I give props to anyone who can do it, because I seriously suck at them. I'll leave it in anyways, but if you read it and cringe and feel awkward, I'm sorry. Maybe you might like it, but I guess we'll see.

So, the next chapter will be posted Sunday night. I would do it on Friday or Saturday, but I will not be able to until Sunday.

Also, a lot of development in the cancer is coming soon, which is probably considered bad, but I promise that unlike Jess Brittain, I am not sadistic, so… take that as you will.

Thank you so much for reading. Seriously. I really do appreciate it, and it puts a huge smile on my face to think that people are reading this. It makes me unbelievably happy.

Let me know what you thought!