JACKSON

It's been a week and a half since I left the April's house in Ohio, and I miss her like crazy.

I'm getting ready for bed after a long day of schmoozing with my mother's coworkers at the hospital, being shown off like a prized pony and bragged about for my pre-med major. In her mind, once I'm all done with school, I'll go right to interning alongside her at the hospital I've been frequenting my whole life.

For me, it's a different story, though. I have no interest in staying in Boston. I like Chicago, I've discovered, and I like the midwest. I like New York, too. I want to be out on my own, making my own path. Not riding on my mother's coattails.

I let out a long sigh as I run a hand towel over my face, then stare at myself in the mirror. I look at the freckles across the bridge of my nose and can't help but recount when April saw them for the first time, and I get all smiley about it. I shake my head at myself. If Mark could see me right now, he'd say, Avery, you have it so fuckin' bad for this girl.

And I do. I honestly do. When we were lying in her bed on my last night in Moline and she came out and told me how she feels about me, I could barely believe it. I never thought my feelings would be reciprocated - I thought she was bent on keeping our relationship away from that. But I was wrong. And it's probably the first time that I've ever been grateful to be wrong.

April turned from a stranger into my best friend, and now she's my girlfriend. I find myself grinning like an idiot as I think about it.

I change into my pajamas and crawl into my king-sized bed, lying on my back while I hold my phone in front of my face. It's kind of late, so I don't know if she'll be up, but I figured I might as well try.

SENT: hey piano girl, u up?

I flip through my apps to get rid of some notifications, and see that April liked and retweeted a tweet of mine from 42 minutes ago - a picture that I posted of the both of us. It's a selfie at the airport in front of a wall of windows, my arms around her shoulders and her head tucked under my chin. She's wearing a big smile, but her eyes are shiny because she'd been crying during our goodbye. I tweeted it with the caption: wont see my girl til school starts again. F depauls long ass break! #MissinHerAlready.

RECEIVED: I'm up. Are you? ;)

SENT: lmao. Im boutta call u. Can u talk?

RECEIVED: no but yes. Call me!

I press the little phone button next to her contact and wait for her to answer. When she does, she's whispering.

"Hi," she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

"You're up late," I say.

"I was waiting for you, duh," she says, giggling. "I missed you."

"Yeah, sorry I couldn't text very well today and tonight," I say. "Stupid hospital networking shit."

"Yeah…" she says. "But that'll be good for you. For when you're ready to break into the field and stuff. Right? That you have those connections?"

I mess with a thread on my blanket. "I guess," I say. "It's still annoying to have to sit through all of them talking at me and then pretend I care."

"I'd hate that," she says. "Isn't it awkward?"

"Yeah," I say. "And it drags. Today went on forever, I swear. And all I wanted to do was talk to you."

She makes a satisfied little sound. "Same here," she says.

"What'd you do today?"

"Hmm," she says, and I hear rustling like she's rolling over. "I… well, I got up early and did my chores. It wasn't very fun without you there. I got in a fight with Kimmie, but we're fine now. She just keeps stealing my stuff without asking like I won't notice. Oh, and I got my period."

"That's good."

"A week late," she says. "Which is weird. Now I'm the odd one one, not synced with them. Sucks." She sighs. "I haven't been feeling very good. I don't know why, I think I'm getting the flu or something."

"Well, it is wintertime," I say. "That stuff goes around. And you're super germy anyway."

"Shut up!" she says, laughing. "Shut up. I'm just so fricken tired, you know? I just wanna sleep all the time."

"I feel the same way," I say. "Break makes me into a big lazyass."

"So, nothing different than how you are during the school year?" she says, pleased with herself.

"Ass," I mutter, but grin. "You have a fever?"

"I don't know," she says. "All this has been pretty subtle, like it comes and goes. I haven't really been paying that much attention to it. I don't know, if it gets worse I'll probably go to our doctor. I don't wanna come back to school feeling all gross and sick."

"Yeah, then I won't kiss you. And what will you do then?" I say.

She giggles. "Don't even joke," she says. "I don't wanna think about that."

"Guess you better get healthy soon, then," I say. "I don't want my girlfriend sick."

She hums softly. "Your girlfriend," she repeats.

"You heard me right," I say. "My girlfriend. My beautiful, amazingly intelligent and gifted girlfriend who I miss so damn much."

"Jackson," she says, and I can almost hear her blush.

I turn over onto my side and wish she was in bed next to me. "I wish I was looking at you," I say.

"You miss sleeping next to me," she says.

"Yeah, of course I do."

"You miss waking up all sweaty because I give you zero room all night," she laughs. "Even that?"

"Even that," I say. "I miss that a lot. Most of all, I miss waking up to you naked. Then waking you up in a way you really like."

I hear her shift again. "Mm," she says. "I really miss that, too." She chuckles. "You know, Mark is gonna be so lonely when we go back. Because I want you spending all your time in my room."

"Believe me, that's where I wanna be, too," I say, and close my eyes. If I try hard enough, I can picture her face across from mine and her hands roaming my body. Fuck, I wish we were together. "Where are you right now?" I ask, testing the waters.

"My bed," she says. "You know that."

"Yeah," I say. "But… what are you wearing?"

"Jackson."

"It's just a question," I say, slyly smiling to myself. "I wanna know if you have that old-timey nightgown on that you love."

She snorts quietly. "No," she says. "I have on regular pajamas."

"What ones?" I ask. "Shorts or pants?"

"Shorts," she says. "We turned the heat up, it's hot in the house. I have on my pink-and-white polka-dotted ones. With the silk string, you know those?"

"I know those."

"And… my light blue cami."

"Anything else?" I ask, picturing her so, so clearly.

"Nope," she says. "Not even a bra." She pauses for a second. "What do you have on?"

"Just boxers, that's it," I say. "You know if you were here, you'd have those hands all over me."

"Jackson…" she says, her voice growing quieter. "Are we gonna do this?"

"Do you want to?" I ask. I know that it won't take much to get myself hard and I really want to get off thinking about her. It's the next best thing to being inside her.

"I miss you so much," she says. "I'm really turned on just hearing your voice, even though that's so stupid."

"It's not stupid," I insist. "Just imagine that I'm right there, right next to you. Like we were all last week. Or do you wanna sneak out to the barn?"

"Out to the barn," she says quietly.

"I wanna put my lips all over you," I say, not wasting any time getting into this. I flip back over to my back and feel my penis start to stiffen.

"I don't care that it's cold," she says, the tone of her voice changing. I can hear her situating, too. "I'm gonna take my shirt off, even though the barn's outside and it's December." She lets out a breathy giggle. "I really took it off," she lets me know.

"Good," I say. "Now I can really touch you… and see you…" I close my eyes and picture her body below mine, pale and perfect and waiting for me. "God, I've never told you this. But your skin tastes so good, April. I love having your nipples in my mouth, I love the way they taste and they're so soft… you should touch them, and it'll be like I'm there."

She lets out a breathy sigh. "I am," she says. "Mm, I want you here so bad. I love it when… when you bite down on my shoulders and leave marks." She makes a frustrated little sound. "I'm pretending that my hands are yours. I'm touching my stomach… my hips…"

"Go lower," I say, bending my knees so my feet rest flat on the mattress. "Slip your hand inside your shorts."

"It's all hot down there," she says. "I wish you were here to put your mouth on me."

"If I were there, we'd be long past that," I say. "I can never resist eating you out. God, April, you taste so damn good."

I picture her wetting her lips, eyebrows arching upwards as her face flushes. "Should I finger myself?" she asks. "I've never done it before."

"Pretend it's me," I say. "Stick them in your mouth to lube them up, then slide two in."

She gasps, and I know she's done it. "Oh…" she moans softly. "I'm moving them, pumping them in and out like you do… oh, Jackson, you feel so good."

I wrap my hand around my dick and stroke it slowly. She's so damn sexy, and I don't want to come prematurely.

"Remember our first time," she says, her voice now lower and more guttural. "Well, the first time you went down on me. And you made me feel so… much…" she pants. "Imagine if I'd gone down on you, too. And given you head that night."

My dick twitches. She's never given me head before, and I didn't even know she thought about it.

"Would you have liked that?" she asks, all sultry.

"Fuck, I would've loved it," I say. I start to stroke myself with a bit more purpose.

"Just picture my warm lips around you," she says, and my eyes roll back as I flick my thumb over the head of my penis, which makes my hips snap upward. "And my tongue on the underside of it. You can put your hand in my hair and push my head, I don't care. I like it. I'd just keep sucking until you're so hard in my mouth and so big… so big I probably can't even take all of you. And when you come, I'll swallow it," she says, her voice smooth as silk. "And just look at you from between your legs. Would you like that?"

I can't form words, only grunts. The muscles in my lower belly are clenching as I'm about to get there, and when I do, I make a mess all over my stomach. "Fuck," I breathe. "God, you're good at this."

"Did you come, baby?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say, letting a long breath out of my nose. "And now I'm getting back to you. Are you still touching yourself?"

"Uh-huh," she says.

"I've always wondered what your orgasm feels like," I say. "Because the way your body twists and moves when I give you one makes me think that it really rocks your world."

"It does," she says. "Oh, god, it really does."

"If I were there with you," I say. "I'd have my mouth on you. I'd pull those thighs apart and run my tongue over your lips, and push it inside you and god, you're always so warm and wet," I say. "Your body is amazing."

"Mm," she moans. "Tell me what else you'd do to me. I want you inside me."

Her words give me renewed energy, and my dick twitches once again. "After I give you head, the next step is always fucking you," I say, then pause. "Is that word okay? I don't-"

"Use it," she breathes.

My chest flushes. "And Christ, you're so tight. I love the way you feel wrapped around me, and I love having your breasts in my hands as I thrust into you, running my thumbs over your nipples so they get so fucking hard. I'd be kissing you everywhere - your face, your chest, your shoulders, everywhere I can reach. And when you seriously can't take it anymore, I'd stick my fingers into my mouth and then inside you, and find your clit so you can come. And you look so fucking gorgeous when you come, April, your chest gets all pink and you twist and turn underneath me while I'm still buried deep inside you… there's no one else in the world who's ever looked as beautiful as you do when you're coming."

"Oh, god!" she whimpers, and I can tell by the tone of her voice that she's there. "Oh, god, Jackson… Jackson… I'm coming, I just…" She trails off and starts panting, and I hear a muffled moan as she presumably presses her face into the pillow. "Wow," she says, after a few moments have passed.

"Fuck, I really miss you," I say. "That was amazing, but…"

"I want the real thing," she says. "I miss you so bad. I wanna be able to look at you, I bet you look amazing. You always do."

"Shut up," I say. "You flatter me."

"You do always look amazing, and other girls think so, too," she says. "But you're mine. Right?"

"Of course," I say. "And you're mine."

I hear her make a satisfied, affirmative sound, then she whispers, "I have to go to sleep. Chores in the morning."

"Damn that farm life," I say. "Talk tomorrow. I hope you feel better. Go to the doctor, okay?"

"Hmm, maybe," she says. "Maybe I should just have my doctor boyfriend diagnose me instead."

"Your boyfriend barely knows jack shit about being a doctor yet, go see a professional," I say, which makes her laugh. "Someday."

"Someday," she repeats, dreamily. "Goodnight, city boy. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, April," I say, and hang up the phone to plug it into the charger.

A few days later, before I even go downstairs on Christmas morning, I call April. Her voice is bright and cheery, even though it's not even 9am.

"Merry Christmas!" she says. "What are you doing today?"

"Merry Christmas," I say back, rubbing my eyes. "I'm going downstairs for some present time with my mom. Then we're going into the hospital to help out, which should be pretty good. On Christmas, things can get wild. What are you doing?"

"Big Kepner family Christmas here at the house, of course," she says. "We've been up for hours already getting everything together. Haven't done presents yet, but we will in a little bit."

"Speaking of presents," I say. "There should be one under your tree from me."

I spent weeks looking for the perfect Christmas gifts for her. I ended up deciding on a full collection of Mozart and Chopin's works, which are two very thick books full of all the sheet music she could ever want. And alongside that, I got her a decorative hair clip that's adorned with silver diamonds and shiny emeralds that will stand out from her red hair. She saw it in a case at the jewelry store when we went to the mall with her sisters over Thanksgiving, and I picked it up for her the next day without waiting. She's going to love it.

"What!" she says. "Really? Oh, Jackson, you didn't have to. That's so sweet of you."

"You don't even know what I got you yet," I say, laughing lightly. "It could be totally awful."

She scoffs. "Well, I got you something, too. And your mom hid it under the tree so you wouldn't know until the last minute. Because I know you, and you would've done some serious sneaking."

"You got me something?" I ask. "Nah, you're lying."

"Not lying," she says. "You'll see. Call me tonight, okay? I wanna hear about your day."

"Okay," I say. "Merry Christmas, beautiful girl."

She makes a squealy sound. "Merry Christmas, my very sweet boyfriend."

I hang up the phone and go to the bathroom, then head down the stairs where my mom is sitting with Richard in the living room. Maggie is at her mom's house today, so it's just the three of us. After we do presents, I'll probably head out for my morning run because being around the two of them and their lovey-dovey shit really gets on my last nerve.

"Merry Christmas, baby," Mom says. "Come sit down. I have a few things for you."

I get nice things from my mom - new ties, a wallet, but mostly cash, which is what I appreciate most.

"And your girlfriend mailed this to you the other day," she says. "I've been keeping it from you. Here you go, honey."

I can't help but smile as I look at the package that April wrapped so painstakingly. It's a good size, which makes me wonder what could possibly be in there. I look up as I feel both my mom's and Richard's eyes on me, and they get the hint and look away, making conversation amongst themselves while I open her gift.

The first thing I pull out is a note, which I read slowly.

Jackson,

You are the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. You make me so happy, I can't even tell you how happy. These past few months have been the best of my whole life! I can't wait for everything else in store for us. Also, I hope you like all this. I worked really hard on putting it together. You deserve the best!

Merry Christmas, city boy

Love,

April (aka your piano girl)

I smirk at her cute, curly handwriting, and push past the tissue paper to the first gift. I lift it out and see that it's a piano book for beginners - beginners who are most likely children. I flip through it and chuckle; I can picture April standing in a music store and picking this out for me because she knows how much I love to sit at the piano and learn from her.

I set it to the side and pull out the next one, which is soft and plush. I lift it out to see it, and find that it's a stuffed brown and white goat. I laugh out loud and shake my head, picturing her with her goat Lovey's face pressed to hers, smiling away. Even before she was piano girl, she was goat girl. Now there's no way I'm ever going to forget that.

I dig for the last thing, which is in a rectangular box. The box is black with sharp edges, and the inside can slide out from the rest. I study it, creases appearing on my forehead as I do, then slide the middle part out. Inside the box is black velvet, and on it sits a pristine, silver stethoscope. My eyes widen as I look at the bell, where the words 'Jackson Avery, M.D.' are engraved in official-looking lettering.

"Holy shit," I say out loud, and run my fingers gently over the cool metal.

"What's that?" my mom asks, peering down to see. "Oh, my goodness! Did April get that for you?"

"Yeah," I say, trying it on around my neck. "Yeah, she did."

"That's gorgeous, sweetheart," Mom says. Richard agrees. "She knows you well."

"I know," I say, still studying it. I can't believe that she got this for me - my very first stethoscope. With my name on it and everything. I can't wait to call her later and talk her ear off about it.

No matter how much I want to, I don't wear my stethoscope to the hospital later when we go. I'm not that pretentious about becoming a doctor - not yet, anyway. I have a good time shadowing my mom and socializing with the doctors that I've known for my entire life, and come to the conclusion that this Christmas was one of the best in a while. The only thing that would've made it better was if April were actually here, but I can't ask for too much.

I call her that night, and her voice sounds worn out and tired - completely opposite from this morning. "Hey," she says. I still hear that smile.

"Hey, baby," I say. "How was your day?"

"So long," she says. "So, so long. But good. It was a really good Christmas. I'm just so freakin' exhausted from it."

"I feel you on that," I say. "Your big-ass family, damn. I don't know how you're still awake right now. I probably wouldn't be."

She chuckles. "I have the biggest headache, too. It's so annoying. My mom thinks it's a migraine because it just won't go away. Well, I mean, it kind of has. I forgot about it earlier. But… geez."

"I'm sorry," I say. "That really sucks."

"I'm okay," she says. "I'll get through it. What I care about mostly is how you liked your presents this morning."

"Oh, my god," I say, the memory of them rushing back to me. "Number one, I can't wait to get back to school so you can teach me all those songs on the piano. You dug yourself a pit with that one, you know."

She giggles. "I knew you'd like that!" she says.

"And the damn goat," I say, shaking my head. "I wanna hate it so bad. But the thing's in my bed with me right now. It's your substitute."

"You're gonna like her better than you like me, just watch," she says. "I named her Lovey. Because Lovey is my favorite goat, so you get a Lovey, too."

"Amazing," I say. "And the best part, April. April, god, you really didn't have to. That stethoscope, like… dude. That's amazing. I didn't wanna take it off, it made me feel so legit."

She squeals. "Yay!" she says. "I was so excited about that one. You are legit. That's why I got it for you. And I know you're not an M.D. yet, but… someday you will be. And you can remember the Christmas when I got it for you. I wanted it to be special."

"It definitely is," I say. "I did not expect that. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome so much," she says back, all cheeky.

"So how did you like your presents?" I ask.

"I love them, of course," she says. "I couldn't stop flipping through all that sheet music. There's so much, Jackson! I don't know where you found those books. But I don't think I'll stop playing piano for like, the next hundred years probably."

"That was the goal," I say.

"And!" she enthuses. "The hair clip. Jackson, you really shouldn't have done that. Those are real diamonds and emeralds and… are you sure you want me to have that? It looks expensive. It's so gorgeous, I love it, but… that's a lot of money."

"Of course I want you to have it," I say. "You deserve it. I can't wait to see it in your red hair."

"I tried it on earlier," she says. "I was too scared to wear it for very long, but I loved how it looked. I can't wait to wear it around you!"

"I can't wait until that's the only thing you're wearing," I say.

"You're bad," she says, then pauses. "But me, too."

I hear her yawn, and know I should let her go. For her, it's been an extremely long day and she's probably been awake for more than fifteen hours.

"I'll let you get some sleep, tired girl," I say. "I'm glad you had a good Christmas. And the end of break is getting closer. I can't wait to see you."

"I know," she says, sounding tired. "I'm counting down the days."

On the plane ride back to Chicago, I can't stop thinking about April. I've been thinking about her for the past week straight, and now the day has finally come where we see each other again. Towards the end of break, she was a little quieter than usual, and I wondered why. But now that we'll be seeing each other every day again, I know things will go back to normal.

I know I'm one of the first ones to arrive on the fourth floor, because the whole place is silent. Mark isn't back yet and neither are the girls. My mom makes a big production of saying goodbye to me, even bigger than she made when she first dropped me off, and I have to do everything I can to get her out of the building.

Once she leaves, I'm here essentially by myself. I keep my door open and lay on my bed, picking up Mark's fidget spinner from the floor and twirling it around. I don't see how he finds endless entertainment from it, because I get bored pretty easily and toss it onto his bed.

I text April and ask when she's coming, and she says in less than an hour. So I jump in the shower to get freshened up and change into clean clothes, then deem myself presentable. I don't want to smell bad when she sees me for the first time in a month.

I hear the Kepner family through my open door and peek out to make sure it's them. Of course, I already know that it is, but if I was any bit confused before - that red hair would tell me everything I need to know. I let them go in and get April settled, but once the noise dies down I make my way over and knock on the doorframe.

"Jackson!" Libby says, facing me with her arms outstretched. "It's so nice to see you."

Karen turns around to look, too, and smiles. There's something different about her smile, though. I can't put my finger on what it is - but it doesn't reach her eyes like it normally would.

"Hey, guys," I say. "I heard you come in."

"Have you been here long?" April asks, walking out from between her sisters to wrap her arms around me. "Hi," she murmurs against my chest.

"Hey," I say, and smooth down her hair. Our reunion has to be pretty tame since her entire family is watching, but it feels so good to have her in my arms again. Like, otherworldly good. "I missed you."

"I missed you so much," she says, nuzzling against my chest.

"And no, not that long," I say. "My mom dropped me off like, an hour ago. Mark's not here yet either."

"Addie and Amelia just got here, too," April says. "I saw them parking."

We break apart and I hang off to the side while she says goodbye to her family. They all give her hugs, but Karen's lasts the longest. She squeezes April's shoulders tight and holds her face in her hands as she looks at her, then gives her a deft kiss on the forehead.

"I love you, pumpkin," she says, looking right into April's eyes. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

April nods with Karen's hands still cupped around her chin. "I will be," she says. "It'll be okay. I promise. And I'll call you. Or you call me, when you know… you… you hear more. And we can figure out everything. I just… I wanna be here right now."

"I know you do," Karen says.

Even though they're trying to be quiet and subtle, I can't miss this conversation. And I'm very confused by it. What are they talking about, she wants to be here? Of course she does. We couldn't wait to get back to school, back to our old routine. Neither of us could stop talking about it. Does she suddenly not want to be here? Is something wrong, did I do something that she didn't like? All I know is that her family needs to get out of here so I can get some answers, because I'm starting to panic over here.

The moment they all get in the elevator to leave, though, Addison and Amelia corner the two of us.

"You guys," Amelia says, enveloping April in a big hug. "Oh, my god."

"What?" April says, and we all start to walk back towards her room. When we get in there, April and I sit on the bed, Amelia sits on the floor, and Addie sits in the desk chair.

"I'm just…" Amelia shakes her head and looks at Addison, who has started to cry.

"What's going on?" I ask, now confused about something totally new.

Addison shakes her head and looks down, trying to wipe her tears in a subtle way that we won't see. But it's obvious that she's upset about something.

"You guys didn't hear?" Amelia asks, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

"Hear what?" April asks, eyebrows furrowing together.

Amelia sighs. "It's so damn weird to be back here. I'm so grateful to see you guys, it just… what happened really put things in perspective for me." She chews on the inside of her cheeks. "It still doesn't feel real. Like… not at all."

"Okay, what are you talking about?" I ask again.

Addison sniffs in and blinks her eyes hard. "Over break, Alex was in a car accident," she says. "He didn't make it."

My eyes widen. "Whoa," I say. "Wait… what?"

"He died," Amelia says.

"Well, I heard that part. But how?"

Addison crosses one leg over the other. "The roads were really icy one night and he was driving a pickup truck that didn't have 4-wheel drive. He was also drunk and… he slipped off the road and crashed into a tree. Head-on. He died on impact."

April's mouth falls open. "Oh, my god…" she says, clasping her hands together. I see her lips moving silently a few beats later and know she's saying a prayer.

I feel weird. I punched that guy in the face not that long ago, and now he's dead. That doesn't seem right. I mean, I had a reason. He was horrible to April. But now… he's dead. Gone. We're never going to see him again - no one is.

When Addie starts crying harder, Amelia leads her back to their room. I look across the bed at April, who has her knees pulled to her chest.

"You okay?" I ask.

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip. "He was a person," she mutters. "A person, and now… he's just… not here anymore."

"I know," I say.

She lifts her eyes to meet mine. "It isn't weird to you? It isn't sad?"

"Of course it's sad," I say. "It's fucking horrible. I just wasn't that close to him, I don't have any strong feelings, I guess. All I knew of him is that he was a douche who took advantage of you. I feel shitty that I punched a guy who fucking… died not that long after, but… I don't know. There's no much I can do about it now."

She gives me a weird look with guarded eyes. "He was still a person," she says. "With a family who loved him."

"I'm not saying any of that is wrong," I say. "I'm just saying I'm not going to cry over him, because my emotions wouldn't be authentic."

I can tell she wants to say more, but she keeps it inside.

"Pretty shitty way to start out the quarter," I say. "Pretty depressing."

"I'm sure it's plenty more depressing for the people who love him," she snaps.

"You're right," I say, my voice holding a tone. We're quiet for a while, and she gets up to start unpacking. Meanwhile, I haven't made a dent in my luggage. "How was the rest of your break? How're you feeling?" I ask.

She shrugs, throwing certain clothes into the dirty hamper and hanging others up.

"Just a shrug?" I ask. "That's all I get?"

She looks up at me and sighs. I notice that there are dark circles under her eyes that I've never seen there before, and she looks like she's lost a little weight. Maybe it was the stress of all the holidays, because she usually looks healthier than this.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm just tired and in a bad mood."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" I ask, sliding off the bed so my feet touch the floor. "Because I can. For a little while, I get it. I don't care."

"No…" she says, her back facing me. "Stay. I need to talk to you."

Something in the air shifts. I'm not sure what, but it does. My stomach feels queasy and my hands get clammy with nerves. I don't like the tone of voice that she just used - low, scary, and serious.

"What is it?" I ask, leaning back against the bed. I can barely stand to sit still while I feel like this, but I try and do my best.

"I wanted to wait until we were here to tell you," she says. "In person."

I push myself back up to sit on her raised bed. I don't think I can stand. I don't know why she's dragging this out, but my mouth is too dry to push her along. I don't know what she's about to say, but I have a feeling it's not good.

"Okay," I say, warily.

She rubs her temples, creases on her forehead as she stares at the floor. "I went to the doctor for my fever and headaches and stuff. They couldn't really figure out what was wrong with me at first and just sent me home. This was like, just a little bit after you left. They told me to take ibuprofen if it made the migraines go away, and spend time in quiet, dark rooms." She sighs. "So I did. But it didn't help, the headaches just kept getting worse. And I started getting bruises, and these little red dots. I thought I was having an allergic reaction."

She pulls up her shirt and I see them dotting her belly. They look like sporadic chicken pox, but smaller. She turns around and I see weirdly shaped bruises mapping her back, mostly centered around her spine and the waist of her pants.

"They wouldn't heal," she says. "And I didn't know what they were from. And I kept losing weight, even though I wasn't doing anything different. I wasn't even eating as much as usual. So we went back to the doctor, a different one, and they did some blood tests." She sighs. "We waited a while for them to come back, and they had us come in and discuss the results with a hematologist, which is-"

"I know what a hematologist is," I cut in, on edge. A blood doctor, basically.

"Right," she says, shaking her head at herself. "Right. And… they told me that I have…" She grits her teeth and takes in a sharp breath as she looks off to the side. Her face scrunches up like it does when she's about to cry, and when she opens her mouth, a spit bubble forms between her lips. "My blood tests came back with really high white blood cell count. Abnormally high, and they didn't like that. So they did a ton more tests on me." She opens up her elbows, straightens them out, and I can see all the marks from the needle pricks. "Jackson," she says, her voice rising in pitch. "It's not good."

I stand up off the bed and rush to her, taking her in my arms. She's shaking, crying against me with her arms folded between our bodies.

"It's okay," I murmur, my lips against her hair. "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be fine. It's gonna be okay."

"It's not," she whimpers, trembling harder. She looks up at my face, eyelashes sticking together with the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Jackson," she breathes. "I'm really sick."