AN: merryman (Thanks!I appreciate your reviews. I have to say, there have been better jobs done of stories like this. I normally don't cry during movies or books, but I have read a few books and seen a few movies like this, for example A Walk to Remember or such, and they always manage to make me teary-eyed! I don't think I'm quite capable of making my readers cry though... ) But I'm glad you think I'm doing justice to this story! Right on about your opinion about racism! Ditto! I always find it extremely exciting when somebody shares my view about this... as you can probably see. Ah-hem. Thanks so much!) Crystal (Lol thank you andI love bowling too. It seems to be theouting activity. You'd think that for all teh times I've been bowling with my sister that I would actually be good at it. Ha. And I am eating goldfish too. In my heart. Goodness! Adn I though I sent long reviews. Lol, oh thanks, I'm touched. More where that came from coming later! I just don't want to make it too sappy... and yes feel free to predict. This story has been mostly predictable from teh start. Yeah lol Aaron's mine no stealing. Well, eh-hem, there are some nice guys in my church... and your reaciton was just what I was going for. Lol my reviews consist mostly of yours. Thank you! I'm touched. REally I'm not just saying that. OKay I'll hustle.) Emandley (Yes I was on a roll for a while with this story. Thanks for reviewing!)

Chapter Ten

Rebecca stood in front of the mirror, thinking about everything she'd told Aaron and what he had said in reply. It had been a good conversation…

Chemotherapy.

Her head would be bald. All of the hair that she had grown in the years since then, the soft brown hair that Aaron had recently said he had admired. If only he knew what pain had been sent through her the second he'd said that. All of this hair that he admired would be gone. In a matter of weeks.

As she stood, her thighs up against the bathroom counter as she pressed herself closer to the mirror, she imagined what her present self would look like without hair. And she hated it.

That would include her eyebrows. Her eyebrows!

It was as if this plague, this disease; this curse was taking everything slowly, eventually her life. And even though her parents and sister, and even Aaron and Sherrie seemed to be positive about all of it, she knew it was coming. Oh, she knew what she was in for with this thing. And even though most of the time she was able to maintain control of her emotions, she was not completely what she'd told Aaron.

She had to keep telling herself she was not angry with God, but the more she thought about what was approaching, she felt her resolve growing weak.

Oh, Lord, I don't want to lose faith. I want to believe that You have it all under control. I want to know without doubt that this is what You meant for me.

And yet Rebecca knew that this reason was exactly why she wanted to be angry with the Lord. Because He did know what He was doing, and what He was doing was letting her have cancer.

Aaron knew that Rebecca would not be starting school with him. A week away, his senior year of high school was going to be Rebecca-less.

Meanwhile, he had something bigger to deal with. The Dare was supposed to be completed by Christmas… and he already had it finished. He had befriended Rebecca, risked everything. And now he had to deal with the reason he had first begun to talk to her. He couldn't go to youth group and have the juniors—the only ones that knew he was the Dared and they the Darers—see that he had already completed it.

And he couldn't tell Rebecca and expect her to take it lightly. She had told him everything. Everything.

Rebecca lay on the couch, staring at the TV but not comprehending anything that was happening on the screen. She was deep in thought, and when Ruth came to join her but didn't say anything, she felt sorry for her sister. Her sister would probably suffer along with her, be beside her holding her hand every step of the way. And although Rebecca appreciated it she knew that it would hurt Ruth as well.

She smiled when her sister took a deep breath to speak, as if the whole time they sat she had been thinking about what to say or how to start a conversation. "Are you thinking about leukemia?"

Rebecca nodded and looked over at her sister. "And how wonderful of a sister you have been, and how I don't want you to feel the pain with me."

She shook her head. "Beck, you know that you can't protect me from that. No matter how stubborn you are, you cannot alienate me like you have done the rest of the world just to spare me."

"You talk like everything is going to be fine, Ruth," Rebecca said exasperatedly, tears gathering in her eyes. "You act like this is just a phase, a chapter in my life—in our lives—that we will get through and move on to other things. But it's not. I can feel it in here that it won't be."

Before Ruth could speak, Rebecca lifted a hand to silence her. "Ruth, I know you and Mom and Dad want to think that. I know that Grandma and Grandpa tell themselves that it is going to be just like last time, that I am going to move on and live the rest of my life moderately healthy. But sometimes I can't have the hope that you can, not when I know what I will have to go through just to live. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better just to die without the chemotherapy."

Ruth's eyes widened and she hurriedly got up out of her chair and came over to kneel at her sister's feet and gently take her hand. "Isn't it hard to live without that hope?"

Amazed at Ruth's words, Rebecca raised her eyebrows. She didn't even try to tell her that she was wrong about what she'd said. "It is. But I guess I cope with it."

This turned her mind back to everything she'd had to cope with before, the tiredness, the bruises, the hair loss, the pity she'd received from her parents. Everything she'd gone through, and she'd always heard that trials strengthened character and one's relationship with God. So why was her faith wavering now?