Hey guys! How was everyone's holiday? I'm sorry this update is coming so late. It's been super busy with the holiday and then family and friends. Crazy! Anyways, here is chapter 9:) I would like to thank Anonymous for the advice. Reading back on this story so far I realize everything has been really rushed and I don't want to do that. I want all of you to get to Augustus more. So here is The Fault in His Stars slowed down :) hope you enjoy! Please comment and review!
~Wallflower95
9
The day before we were supposed to leave for Amsterdam, Isaac called.
"Hey."
"Hey man. How are you?"
"Do swell my friends. How are your eyes?"
"No longer in my head."
"So listen, I'm heading support group. Want to come?" I hesitated. I wanted to be there to support Isaac. He was going through a lot with the whole being blind thing and Monica leaving him. I wanted to go but I had a doctor's appointment.
"Ah wish I could man but my parents want to do something as a family." I said. I hated lying to him but I didn't want him to worry. It was my problem not his.
"I bet Hazel is going to be there." I really did want to go. I wanted to see Hazel Grace even though I was spending time with her in Amsterdam tomorrow. And of course I wanted to go for Isaac as well. I shook my head.
"No, I'm sorry Isaac." He sighed on the other end.
"Alright. Suit yourself." He hung up. I sighed. I had refused to go to today's appointment. My parents are really pushing medications. The Chemo and the radiation. The works. But I don't want it. I don't want any of it. I like being me. I don't want my mind to poisoned with all of that. I know. I just know that none of its going to work. Both of my parents so my PET scan. They say me lit up like a Christmas tree and yet they still held on to hope that I'd miraculously recover. That I'd pull through. But I knew from the looks of that scan that I might bite into it. That cancer was made of me and there was nothing I couldn't do anything about it.
I sat in the backseat of our car in absolute silence. Every once in a while my mom would look back through the rear view mirror. But I couldn't look into her eyes because I've made my decision. I didn't want to go through Chemo and radiation. I can't do it.
Even when we were in the doctor's office and Dr. Morrison droned on and on about everything they could do to fight the cancer. Both of my parents were listening intently to every word. They clung to each word as if it were a lifeline but all I heard was try try try try. He never said anything would work for sure. Because he can't. Nothing would work. None of it.
"We can start all of this tomorrow." I stood up.
"No."
"Augustus. You are very sick."
"Yeah I know that. I'm saying I don't want any of this." Dr. Morrison was quiet. Both of my parents were looking at me.
"Gus..."
"No. I'm going to Amsterdam tomorrow. I can't start it then. I'll start after Amsterdam." That's when my parents jumped.
"Augustus we need to follow the doctor's orders."
"It's my body. My life. My choice. I'm going to Amsterdam tomorrow." And I walked out of the room without looking back at their shocked expressions.
I put my suitcase by the bottom of the stairs in my room and I sat down on the bed, waiting for my ride. When we had gotten home yesterday everyone had been quiet and tense. I had gone to my room without another word. I sighed and grabbed my suitcase and started the long way upstairs. When I got there my parents were waiting for me in the kitchen. I smiled at them and held out my arms.
"Bye! Love you both." I said happily. They didn't react.
"Well, I better be off. Hazel Grace will be here soon." I headed to the front door with my parents trailing behind me. On my suitcase was a blue button down shirt and then a green polo shirt. I was wearing a plain white t shirt and jeans. I held out the two shirts.
"Which one?" I asked my mom. My mom gently took them from my hands and put them back on my suitcase.
"Don't go Gus." She said softly. I shook my head and backed away from her.
"No mom. Don't."
"Augustus we want what's best for you." My dad said.
"Then listen to me." I said. My mom looked close to tears.
"If we don't get this done the cancer will get worse." I laughed.
"Did you see the scan mom? It's already bad!" Tears rolled down her cheeks. I don't want to do this to my parents. They've done everything for me. They were there when I was in basketball. They were there when Caroline died. They were there when I was first diagnosed with cancer. See, parents will do anything to keep their kids safe. Even if the kid doesn't want them to. I know they want to help me but they can't. You can't save someone who can't be saved.
"Please stay Augustus." She said. I shook my head.
"I am going to Amsterdam."
"You are staying here!" She cried.
"No."
"Why aren't you listening to us?" She sobbed.
"BECAUSE IT IS MY LIFE, MOM. IT BELONGS TO ME." My dad put his arm around my mother as she cried. I hated myself for yelling at her. Parents just want what's best for their kids. I understand that. But I know what I want right now and I just need them to listen.
"Look, I know that you want what's for me, okay? I get that," They looked at me. "But please understand that this is what I want. I want to go too Amsterdam with Hazel Grace and I know you don't support my decision..." I said slowly. They both had their eyes on me, listening to my every word.
"But please just trust me." I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I looked at it. It was Hazel Grace
We're outside.
I looked at my parents. My mom's eyes were red and wet. My dad had a stony expression on his face. My mother nodded.
"Okay Gus." She said to me softly. I gave her a smiled and embraced both of them. The hugged my back without out a word. I replied to Hazel Grace's text.
Just CAN'T decide what to wear. Do you like me better in a polo or a button-down?
She replied.
Button-down.
I put the blue button-down on and waved goodbye to my parents. The waved back and we didn't say another word. I put a Camel Light in my mouth and opened the door. Hazel Grace was in the passenger seat and Mrs. Lancaster got out to say hi and help me with my bag.
"Always a pleasure to see you, ma'am." Once everything was in the car I opened the backseat door and started the complicated process of getting into the car. When I bent down I felt the familiar cancerous pain in my hip and I thought to myself; It's not just there. It's everywhere.
"Do you want shotgun?" Hazel Grace asked me. I didn't want her to know. Not yet.
"Absolutely not. And hello, Hazel Grace."
"Hi," She said. She looked back at me with those hypnotizing green eyes. "Okay?"
"Okay."
"Okay." Mrs. Lancaster got into the car.
"Next stop, Amsterdam."
Actually the next stop was the airport parking lot and then airport waiting line and then the plan and so on. The standing in line part made me a little tired. I could feel the pain in my legs but I tried hard to ignore it.
"Observation: Standing in line is a form of oppression. Seriously." I said. Hazel Grace wanted to walk through the metal detector, without her oxygen tank. I watched her as she slipped the tubing off around her ears. She was wearing a pink tank top, jeans and a black cardigan and her chuck taylors. Her hair was tucked behind her ears. She looked as if she was holding her breath as she took the few steps through the machine the declared she was a none metallic person. After ten seconds she sat down on a bench and laced the tubes around her ears and placed the nubbins back in her nose. That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt. Mrs. Lancaster looked at her with concern in her eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Hazel Grace said.
"Amsterdam!" Mrs. Lancaster practically shouted. Hazel Grace smiled.
"Amsterdam."
We got to the gate about an hour before our scheduled boarding time.
"Mrs. Lancaster, you are an impressively punctual person." I said. I sat down beside Hazel Grace on the bench.
"Well it helps that I am not technically very busy." She said.
"You're plenty busy." Hazel Grace said. Time passed and soon the benches started filling up. People walked by and I felt like they were looking at us. At me. I could feel there eyes on me. My foot started to tap against the ground impatiently. Why weren't the calling us in.
"I'm gonna get a hamburger before we leave. Can I get you anything?" I asked Hazel Grace. I knew it was close to boarding time but I just had to get out of there. Everyone was just looking at us as if we had some disease... which we did.
"No," She said, "but I do appreciate your refusal to give in to breakfasty social conventions." I tilted my head, looking at her in complete and utter confusion. Mrs. Lancaster leaned forwards.
"Hazel has developed an issue with the ghettoization of scrambled eggs." She said.
"It's embarrassing that we all walk through life blindly accepting that scrambled eggs are fundamentally associated with mornings." Hazel Grace said. I smiled. God she's amazing.
"I want to talk about this more," I said. "But I am starving. I'll be right back." And I walked away. I headed down towards the McDonalds in the airport. The line wasn't super busy and I had some time so I leaned against the wall and took out my phone. I called Isaac. He answered on the third ring.
"Hello?"
"Update #1, I am really going to miss American food." I said with a smile.
"You're only going for a few days, Gus. I'm sure you'll survive."
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"Don't joke about that." Isaac said seriously.
"Sorry." I changed the subject.
"I am about to have a very serious conversation with Hazel Grace over the ghettoization of eggs." I said.
"Wait, what?"
"See, she was saying that eggs should not always be associated with the breakfast group which I can understand. Its a stereotype when you really thing about it. But then she's forgetting eggs in other meals like egg salad sandwiches. I mean, that's a lunch related meal." I said.
"What are you talking about?" Isaac asked on the other end.
"Many things my friend." Isaac sighed.
"Funny. Well, have fun in Amsterdam with your girlfriend." Isaac said.
"She's not my girlfriend," I said. "Well, she doesn't want that. She doesn't want to put me in that kind of position because she think she'll hurt me if she bites it from cancer... but I guess I'll be the one hurting her now, won't I?" Isaac was quiet on the other end.
"You should just not think about that and go enjoy your trip." Isaac said. I sighed.
"You're right."
"Of course I am. I'm a freaking genius." Isaac said. I laughed. I heard them announce our flight number over the PA.
"I gotta go. See you."
"Bye." I hung up and quickly bought a sandwich. As I was attempting to speed walk all the way back to our gate, I received a text from Hazel Grace.
Where are you?
I didn't reply. I tried walking faster. I could feel my chest on fire. My lungs working too hard. The pain in my hip spreading down to my legs. For a moment I worried that something might happen in Amsterdam. What if it ruined the trip. I shook my head. No. I won't let that happen. Just as someone was announcing that they were preboarding people who might need extra time to get on the plane, I reached Hazel Grace.
"Where were you?" She asked.
"Line was super long, sorry." I lied. I wanted to slap myself for saying that. I offered her my hand and pulled her up. Why did I have to lie? Just say that you didn't want people staring at you. As we made our way into boarding I could feel everyone in the boarding area watching us as we made the slow trek up there. I reached our row on the plane and I took the seat by the window. Once we were settled in, other people started streaming into the plan. I started unwrapping my burger. The smell of it making my mouth water.
"The thing about eggs, though," I started to say. "is that breakfastization gives the scrambled egg a certain sacrality, right? You can get yourself some bacon and cheddar cheese anywhere anytime, from tacos to breakfast sandwiches to grilled cheese, but scrambled eggs- they're important." Hazel Grace shook her head.
"Ludicrous." She said, staring at me.
"I'm just saying: Maybe scrambled eggs are ghettoized, but they're also special. They have a place and a time, like church does." I said.
"You couldn't be more wrong," She said. "You are buying into the cross-stitched sentiments of your parents' throw pillows. You're arguing that the fragile, rare thing is beautiful simply because it is fragile and rare. But that's a lie, and you know it." She said. I smiled.
"You're a hard person to comfort."
"Easy comfort isn't comforting. You were a rare and fragile flower once. You remember." I was silent for a moment and then I smiled at her.
"You do know how to shut me up, Hazel Grace."
"It's my privilege and responsibility." She said. Before she could turn away from me I started talking again.
"Listen, sorry I avoided the gate area. The McDonald's line wasn't really long; I just... I just didn't want to sit there with all those people looking at us or whatever."
"At me, mostly." She said. Was it that? People probably looked at Hazel Grace and wondered why she had to drag the tank behind her. Me? I could hide my disease from the world. If you looked at me you probably wouldn't notice anything wrong with me.
"Augustus Waters, noted charismatist, is embarrassed to sit next to a girl with an oxygen tank." She said.
"Not embarrassed," I said. "They just piss me off sometimes. And I don't want to be pissed off today." I dug into my pocket and flipped open my pack of cigarettes. Seconds later a blond stewardess practically ran over to our row.
"Sir, you can't smoke on this plan. Or any plane." She said with a distressed look on her face.
"I don't smoke." I said with the cigarette dancing in my mouth. She just looked at me.
"But-"
"It's a metaphor," Hazel Grace said. "He puts the killing in his mouth but doesn't give it the power to kill him." She looked right at us with a confused expression on her face.
"Well, that metaphor is prohibited on today's flight." She said. I nodded and put the cigarette back in it's pack.
How was it? Let me know! I appreciate all feedback:) Thanks and if I don't update later soon I hope you all have a great New Year's Day!
Okay?
~Wallflower95