Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
“Ugh, gross,” she mutters under her breath.
Kelly gives me a warm smile, and I roll my eyes. She was only just saying this morning that she noticed I hadn’t had any visitors apart from my family and Noah, and Aunt Maya, of course. She didn’t specifically say that she thought I should open up and allow people in, but her message was loud and clear. I’m starting to realize that Kelly is the type of person who’s more than happy to shove her nose into someone else’s business, but only for the right reasons, and I’m finding that she’s really starting to grow on me.
“I hope you brought a second tub,” Kelly tells Hope. “The drugs Zoey has been on are very potent, so no sharing. Be sure to use the guest bathrooms located out in the foyer and wash your hands regularly. Chemotherapy is no joke. You both need to be careful.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hope says with a nod, though I’m sure she would have already received this warning from the nurses at the reception desk.
With that, Kelly excuses herself, and I’m left with Hope’s saddened gaze on mine. “Chemotherapy, huh?” she asks, her shoulders slumped forward as Hazel putts around the room, straightening the photo frames while pretending she’s not listening. “Does that mean you relapsed? Your leukemia is back?”
“Yeah, we found out last Wednesday and everything just moved really quickly from there,” I tell her. “Sorry I didn’t say anything. I was still processing, and then I was here to start treatment before I knew it.”
“Shit,” she mutters, her bottom lip jutting out. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to give you a hug.”
“Of course you can,” I tell her. “But an intense make-out session is strictly out of the question.”
Hope laughs and scrambles across my bed, throwing her arms around me while being as careful as possible, more than aware of all the machines. I scoot over, and she settles in beside me, dragging the bag of snacks onto her lap and showing me all the yummy goodness that I haven’t had an appetite for in nearly three whole days.
“Sucks to be Noah,” she mutters darkly, a smirk on her lips. “I bet he didn’t take that well.”
“Not even a little bit,” I say, remembering the look on his face when he realized he wasn’t allowed to kiss me until after I was released from the treatment center in five weeks.
“So, what does this mean?” Hope asks, almost using the snacks as a distraction to keep her tears at bay. “You stay here for a little while, have chemotherapy, and then you’ll be better?”
“That’s the general idea,” I tell her. “Only the chemo—considering it works of course—will be delivered in three stages, and between each stage, I should be able to have somewhat of a normal life. I’ll go to school when I can, and then hopefully, I’ll be cleared and can forget about all of this.”
“How long will that take?”
I shrug my shoulders. “That’s not exactly the easiest question to answer,” I admit. “It all depends on how my body reacts to the chemo.”
“Assuming everything goes according to plan?”
“Two, maybe three years until I’m completely in the clear.”
Hope gasps, her eyes going wide. “Shit! That long? Holy crap. You’re going to be like . . . twenty before this is gone.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, more than aware of just how long I’m going to be living with this.
Hope is quiet for a little while, deep in thought. “Does . . . does it hurt?”
I glance down, not able to handle the emotions burning through her blue gaze, and I don’t miss the way Hazel freezes across the room, waiting for my response. “No,” I whisper. “It doesn’t hurt. It just makes me really tired, like I’m lethargic all the time with no energy. Sometimes I get really dizzy to the point I pass out. But if I keep hydrated and make sure I’m eating enough, I can avoid that.”
“And the chemo?” she asks. “Is it as bad as they say it is in the movies?”
I nod while offering a small smile, not wanting her to be sad for me. “I’m having quite an intense round of chemo,” I explain. “My leukemia is . . . It’s bad. It’s advanced so we’re going hard on the chemo just to be on the safe side.”
Hope lets out a heavy breath and leans back against my pillow. “I’m sorry, Zo,” she murmurs. “I wish there was something I could do to make this easier.”
“Being the bringer of the snacks is more than enough,” I tell her. “I already have everyone fussing over me, so just being yourself would help.”
“You mean like, coming to you with all the drama from school. Because girl, you’ve been missing out this week. The shit has hit the fan.”