The chemo suite is basically just a very clinical looking living room, they have these big comfy recliner chairs each sectioned off by curtains. I look around at all the other patients, some of them are really old and look so sick, and some of them are tiny little kids with bald heads and bags under their eyes. It breaks my heart to see them all.

"Gracie Adams-Foster," A new nurse comes over to our little booth, "This is your first chemotherapy session, right?" She barely makes eye contact as she writes things down on her clipboard. I just nod. She hangs up a few different bags filled with different medicines and attaches my port line to them. She explains what each drug is and why I need them, but it all goes right over my head, mama's listening closely though, asking all sorts of questions, "You ready?" The nurse asks. Again, I just nod. The three of us watch as the yellow-ish medicine flows down the tube and into my chest. It feels no different than the saline they put in there before, but I know I'll start to feel the effects soon.

"We got you," Mom says, she's smiling but I can tell she's putting on a brave face, so am I, and I think she can tell.

"Here," The nurse hands me a dixie cup with a small white pill inside, "This will help with the nausea," I take the pill and some water as quickly as I can, I've felt nauseous for weeks, I'm desperate for it to stop. The nurse closes the curtains around us and leaves. It feels way too real now.

"Can I have my hoodie? I'm kind of cold," Mom helps me put on my hand-me-down hoodie from Jesus and zips it up being careful not to pull on my chemo line. None of us really know what to say, they're both just looking at me.

"So, how are things with Taylor now?" Mama asks, "Everything back to normal?"

"Well I wouldn't say normal, I mean I do have cancer," I try to make a joke, but it doesn't get much of a laugh, "But um, yeah, things are good, we both apologized and everything," I tell them.

"And uh, you told her you love her too?" I blush.

"Mama,"

"We just want to make sure you're both on the same page," Mom says.

"Yeah, we are, we're happy together," I hate talking about this stuff with my moms, they always try to turn into 'The talk', which I don't need to hear.

"And are you having sex?" There it is. Mom's not very good at subtlety.

"Oh my God are we really going to have this conversation here, while I'm hooked up to an IV?" I bury my bright red face in my hands and hope that no one else outside the curtain is listening.

"It's the only way we can make sure you don't make a break for it," Mom jokes, but I'm too embarrassed to even crack a smile.

"Okay well, not that it's any of your business, no, we're not… doing that,"

"Do you want to?" Mom asks.

"Seriously? Okay fine, whatever, no I don't want to and I'm not ready and neither is she," I try to avoid looking at them. This is the most humiliating thing.

"Alright, good," Mama says.

"You're too young anyway," Mom adds.

"But when you are, I want you to promise that you'll be safe and kind to each other, respect each other,"

"Yeah," I say quietly.

"Promise us," Mom says.

"Yeah, I promise, oh my God can we please change the subject now?" I squirm in my seat. I can't believe they chose here and now to discuss this. I mean of course Taylor and I have done things, but not all of it, not that I really know what to class as sex when it's two girls. But it doesn't matter, we're always respectful of each other. Moms are laughing a little bit, "So um, what about school?" I ask mama, "Will I get to go back?"

"Well mom and I have talked a lot about it, and we both agree that you should stay home until you've finished all of your chemo and then we'll discuss it again,"

"Okay, I guess that's fair, can I do any school work at home?" I don't want to fall behind again, it's so hard to get caught up to the rest of my grade.

"No, we spoke to Dr Chandra and he said it's best if you just wait, and spend all of your time resting and staying as healthy as possible, physically and mentally,"

"What?!"

"And when the chemo is over, I'll help you get back up to speed," Mama cuts me off.

"Can't you just bring me my school work? You're the vice principal!" I beg.

"Actually," They look at each other, "Mama's decided to take some time off work, just until you're better," Mom holds my hands.

"No,"

"Gracie, I-"

"No way, I'm not letting you take more time away from work for me, we need the money if we're gonna pay all these medical bills!" I argue.

"Don't worry about the money," Mom says, "Your only job is to get better," I knew this would happen, "We're the moms, you're the kid, please honey, just let us take care of you," She puts her hand my cheek, "You've gotta start thinking about yourself more," I stay silent, I don't know what to say.

"You really thought we wouldn't notice you trying to put on a brave face for us?" A tear falls down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away.

"You are allowed to be scared, you're allowed to be sad and feel sick and you're allowed to tell us, we want you to tell us, so we can help," Mama gets up and crouches down next to me. They both stare at me for a little while.

Eventually, I speak up, "Okay," I let the tears start, they both put their arms around me and comfort me as I cry, it feels a little better to let it all out.

Over the next two hours, I scroll through social media, chat to my moms and we even play scrabble for a bit, I made mom promise not to get too competitive, but she still won. I feel kind of nauseous still and I'm sweating a lot, but I know this is just the beginning.

"Times up," The nurse comes back, "You're all done for today," She de-accesses my port, which doesn't hurt too much but feels uncomfortable, and then dresses the entry point. Moms help me up.

"Thank you," I say to her, she actually looks at me and smiles. I text Taylor to let her know I'm done, and moms and I go back to the car to head home.

I start to feel sicker and sicker since I stood up from the comfy recliner chair at the hospital. I have to lie down in the back seat as we drive. By the time we get home, I can barely sit up without feeling like I'm gonna puke. Moms end up going in the house to get Jesus to carry me in, normally I'd be embarrassed but I'm too exhausted to care. I wrap my arms around my brother, and he carries me inside and up to my bed. I guess I won't be hanging out with my sisters and their friends after all. I start to puke into the bucket that now lives next to my bed, mom stays with me.

"How long 'til I start to feel better?" I ask her.

"Dr Chandra said about a week, and then a week after that we go in for your next round," I groan.

"Here love," She hands me my pill box, the nausea pills are part of my prescription now, "And tonight you can have some of your sleeping pills too," She says, "Try to take a nap, I'll come wake you up when Taylor's here," She tucks me in.

I manage to fall asleep for a little while, but mostly I just squirm around trying to get comfortable, the nausea pills have started to work though so at least I'm not puking every minute. After another short nap, I'm woken up by Taylor kneeling down next to my bed.