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Authors: Karla J. Nellenbach
Always and Forever
Copyright 2012 Karla J. Nellenbach
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Cover Design by Greg Simanson
Edited by Nikki Van De Car
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
PRINT ISBN 978-1-935961-60-4
EPUB ISBN 978-1-62015-064-1
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2012948759
For Dan & Jackie
I couldn't have imagined
better parents if I tried.
Contents
MORE GREAT READS FROM BOOKTROPE
PART ONE: DENIAL
O
NE
BARELY AN INSTANT AFTER THE BELL CLANGED
, the halls flooded. I surfed through the crowd, letting the fast moving tide govern my direction. When I finally glided to the water's edge, I found myself at Ricki's locker.
She laughed at my bewildered expression. “You like?” She patted the wide, neon pink stripe that had materialized in her hair sometime between lunch and now. “Brad did it last period.”
“In the Chem lab? What did you use?” My voice rose with every syllable, fearing the poisons she and Brad might have combined to get this effect.
Rolling her eyes, she laughed again. “Nah, in the girls' bathroom. We cut Chem. Brad heard Mr. Grant was handing out pop quizzes. So, we decided to bolt.”
“Very smart of you,” I agreed, handing her my books.
She slid them into her locker and pulled out her Biology book. For someone who hated science as much as she did, Ricki sure did take a lot of science electives. Physics, Chemistry, and now Biology. I could barely handle Bio, and that was mostly because I copied Ricki's homework more often than not. She frowned, sighed.
“Tell me again why you're not coming to class. You know I hate sitting at our table all alone.” She made her patented Ricki pouting face, lips puckered with big glassy eyes like she'd burst into tears at any moment.
I shifted my bag on my shoulder, tried for a shrug.
“Mia, you're not even sick! I mean, look at you.” She waved her hands at me, then put them on her hips, an expectant look on her face. “Okay, truth time. You're not really going to the doctor. You're meeting your husband somewhere so you can, like, pick out China patterns or something.”
“Ha. Ha. And Kal is not my husband.” I looped my arm through hers and turned her in the direction of our next class. The route there swung right by the principal's office, which was where Dad said he'd pick me up. “You know that.”
“What I know is that you two keep pretending to be friends when the whole world knows you're not.”
I just shook my head. This declaration of hers was not anything new. She'd been hinting that Kal and I belonged together ever since she and Kal's friend Adam became an item back in the eighth grade.
Kal was my best friend, had been since we were six. Everyone knew that. And, even though he was way too cute for his own good, I've never really looked at him like that. He was the guy I played in the sandbox with when we were kids. The one who taught me how to ride a bike. The one who I told all my secrets to, like who I had crushes on, who I've kissed, and who I wanted to kiss. Kal had never made it onto any of those lists.
Honestly, I'd never really looked at him that way.
“The whole world, Ricki?” I asked. “Did you take a poll or something?”
“I didn't have to, and you're dodging the issue.”
“It's not an issue. We're just friends. Nothing more.”
“Liar.” She jostled me good-naturedly, and then let out an over-done sigh. “Then, why are you going to the doctor?” she asked. “I just don't get it.”
I shook my head. No need to upset her now. Not when the battery of tests Mom and Dad had pushed Dr. Lambert into ordering were just a huge overreaction to one simple little complaint. I mean, I loved my parents and all, but sometimes they smothered me with their concern. Times like this, I wished I had the kind of parents who were barely there, and when they did look at you, they basically saw right through you. That would be awesome.
“You know my parents, Ricki,” I told her as the principal's office came into view. Dad stood impatiently at the counter, glancing out into the hall every few seconds. “They're always afraid the sky's going to come crashing down.”
“Well, they need to get over themselves already. You're perfectly fine.” After giving me a one-armed hug, she strolled off toward class.
“Tell me about it,” I muttered. When would they learn that I was a completely normal, not to mention
healthy
, teenager and let me live my freaking life?
* * *
All my hiding places have disappeared, vanished into thin air within a fraction of a second. There was no place left to run, no corner to cower in until this storm passed. This storm would never pass. It rained down on me so heavily that soon I would be flooded, carried away by the destructive tide, but now…now I was still as a stone, letting the water swirl around me, collecting my misery and compounding it until I was sure to collapse under its oppressive weight.
“It's not true,” I whispered, a jagged sound that ripped my throat and tongue to shredded bits of nothing as it made its way out of me. I shook my head, pinning them with a desperate look. “It can't be true. No, there's been a mistake. You've made a mistake.”
“Mia,” he began, his tired eyes saying everything that I didn't want or need to know. He blew out a long, heavy sigh and shook his head, a sad little half-jerk that was somehow so much worse than a normal, full side-to-side motion of denial. “I'm sorry.”
“Sorry?” I echoed, my voice edged with a horrible mix of hysteria and bitterness, a dangerous combination if there ever was one. “
You're sorry
?” A short bark of laughter escaped, one small, angry
‘Ha!
’ “You're not sorry, Doc. You sit there behind your desk telling me how
sorry
you are for me, but what you really mean is that
you're just glad it's me and not your daughter. If it was your kid,
then
you'd be sorry.”
“Amelia Elizabeth!” Mom gasped from my right. Her mouth hung open in a giant O of embarrassed surprise. “You apologize—”
I jumped to my feet, anger violently pulsating throughout my body, reaching down to my toes and surging into fingers that were already clenched into tight fists at my sides. “I'm not sorry!” I screamed at her. “I'm not sorry,” I repeated, whirling around to face him. I lashed out at him, slashing an accusing finger through the air. “You made a mistake. You admit that. You tell me that you made a mistake and that everything's fine. You tell me that. Right now.”
“Mia, you know I can't do that,” he murmured apologetically. “I know this must be hard for you to hear, but I'm not going to lie to you. You deserve to know what's happening.” He paused, pursed his lips for a moment, gathering his thoughts before turning to my parents. “We need to discuss the treatment options that are available. Plan our course of action.”
I still stood there, hovering over him as he spoke to Mom and Dad. “No,” I said again, pulling his exhausted gaze back to me.
“Mia,” he began again, his patience with me quickly coming to the end of its rope. “You have to—”
“I want a second opinion,” I interrupted, cutting a quick glance to my parents who were still so shocked over my first outburst that they had yet to catch up to me. “No offense, Dr. Lambert, but this is not something that I can just take on faith. You're not a specialist.”
He regarded me for what seemed like a century, measuring the weight of my words, my resolve. Then, he nodded grimly and turned to his computer. After a few clicks of the mouse, he jotted down a name and phone number and handed the paper to me. “I'll call ahead. Get them to clear an appointment for you.”
Staring at the paper in my hands, I lowered myself back down into the chair I'd been in just moments before the world came crashing down on my shoulders. Dr. Lambert continued talking to Mom and Dad about our “options” but I heard none of it. I blocked them all out, intent upon only that tiny scrap of paper clutched between my fingers. It was the only lifeline I had. My only shot at weathering this storm, and I had to hold onto it.
