December 26th, 1991 8 a.m., Eastern Standard Time

I wake up in Maddie's house. I put on my glasses and look around the room that I'd been shunted into last night. It's small and rather plain, no posters or anything like that. Boring.

I climb out of bed and walk out into the hallway. The room next to me has a huge sign on it that says "MADDIE'S ROOM." Quite subtle.

I walk in and find… basically what I had already seen in her apartment- a small cluttered space with books and music everywhere. The bed's already made- Maddie's an early riser. On the walls are posters of youth theatre and high school musicals, some photographs of the Beatles, and one framed poem, typed in newsprint, only a few lines long. It's by Billy Collins, Maddie's favorite new poet, and titled CANCER. The words somehow express the shock I felt that day- not so long ago- in the pizzeria.

When you need to say the word,

it cowers in the back of your vocabulary

behind some outdated slang.

And if you try forcing it into the mouth

It lodges in the throat like a fishbone.

My father cannot say it yet.

The old man cannot even hear it.

He pretends I am saying "campfire."

I turn suddenly, and find Maddie standing behind me, steaming mug of tea in her hand, looking up at the small framed poem. She sees me and smiles.

"Isn't Billy Collins a genius?" she nearly whispers, her voice full of awe. It's the kind of voice you use to whisper sweet nothings.

My throat is dry, so I can't speak above a whisper myself. "Colleen told me… about your… condition." Maddie looks down at the floor. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ever since I was in high school," Maddie says, without smiling, still staring at the floor, "I've wanted to change the world. First I wanted to go to med school and become an oncologist- yes, even before my diagnosis. Then I wanted to be a social worker, or a politician, or an activist. I'd get into these righteous political and moral debates with people, come home upset, and my mum would say to me, 'You can't change the world, Mads.' But I always tried to. Even now…" She looks up at me. "I'm seeing the foreshadowing, Mark. I'm probably going to die young, but I'm still trying to rewrite the ending, you know?"

I nod, because I feel the same way. I certainly don't want Maddie to die, in the same way I don't want Collins, Roger or Mimi to die.

And then it hits me. Maddie doesn't have to die.

"Mads," I take her hand. "Let me be your organ donor."

"What?" she turns around, a little stunned. "You'd do that for me?"

"If you relapse, then yes, I will donate whatever I can. Blood, kidneys, whatever."

"Oh my God, you really do love me," Maddie whispers, then kisses me. Neither of us want to let each other go, but finally, it's Maddie who pulls away.

"Come on. Mum's got a feast for us downstairs, and I want to show you everything I love in this town." She doesn't wait for my reply, just pulls me down the stairs.

A/N: And the "Keep Maddie Alive" Club goes wild! It was short, but purposeful. Hope you all liked it! And coming in later chapters- Mark's parents make their customary appearance…