Everything Left Unsaid (7 page)

It’s a joke, it has to be, a fucking joke. But it isn’t. The doctor uses words I don’t understand, technical terms to describe the tumour I still can’t quite believe I have. I look to Mum for an explanation but she’s glaring at the doctor, angry. ‘What do you mean, inoperable?’ she demands.

‘The type of tumour Tai has is malignant and aggressive, and the location of it near the brain stem . . .’ He stares down at his papers, like he can’t meet our eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I really am.’

I feel like all the air has gone out of the room. ‘So I’m . . . dying?’

Mum bursts into tears.

The doctor looks straight at me now. ‘There are operations we can do, medication we can give you, Tai, but they will only be to make you more comfortable. We can’t fix it. I’m sorry, Tai.’

My head is spinning and it’s like I’m watching myself taking it in, watching Mum sobbing into her hands, seeing Dad cry for the first time since the dog he had for twelve years died. I touch my cheek and am surprised to find it’s wet.

‘You have to be able to do
something
,’ Mum yells at the doctor.

‘We can operate,’ he explains again, ‘but due to the location of the tumour so close to the brain stem it would be impossible to remove it all. And what we do remove will grow back. I wish I had a simple solution for you, but I don’t. In terms of the treatment plan, in most cases like this we’re looking at surgery, four cycles of chemotherapy, another surgery and then radiation.’

There’s more. He keeps talking about
alleviating the symptoms
and
pain management plans
but my broken brain has stuck on the words,
we can’t fix it
. There’s a silence and I realise the doctor is looking at me, waiting. ‘Sorry?’

‘Do you have any questions at this point, Tai?’

‘How long?’ I stare, and he looks away.

‘Depending on how you go with the treatment, hopefully several months, but I’m afraid it’s an aggressive type of cancer, so probably no more than a year.’

A year. One year. You’re dying, Tai. A year, Tai. You’re fucked, Tai.

Mum grips my hand so hard it hurts. Dad’s face has crumpled into itself as the tears slide down his cheeks, wetting the collar of his shirt. I haven’t cried in public since I was six and now I can’t stop. I was hardly even sick and now I’m dying? How does that work? I wipe my face on the sleeve of my jumper but it makes no difference – the tears keep coming. Dad rests his hand on my shoulder and I wait for him to say something reassuring, but he doesn’t. The doctor fills the silence, talking to Mum and Dad about scheduling the next appointment, about counselling referrals, about what symptoms to look out for, but I can only hold one thought and that’s the big one: I’m dying.

We walk out of the doctor’s room together, Mum gripping one arm, Dad the other. I can barely meet Juliet’s eyes.

‘Tai?’ She’s quiet, almost whispering, as if she doesn’t want the answer, not really, as if she already knows. I nod, not looking at her, not in the eyes.

On the way to the car, on the way home, everyone is clutching at me, as if they all have to be touching me somehow. They cry on me, link their fingers through mine, pull on my arm, touch my shirt, my hair . . . I wish they wouldn’t. When we finally get home I shrug them all off and go straight to my room, locking the door behind me. Mum’s there almost immediately, knocking.

‘Tai? Can I come in?’

‘Mum, I just need some . . . time,’ I tell her. ‘Alone.’

‘Okay.’ It’s hesitant. ‘I’ll be in my room if you feel like talking, okay? Or even if you just want some company. Or some toast. Or something.’

I don’t. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to be alone, turning my iPod up louder and louder until I can’t hear myself cry anymore. I lie on the bed, waiting for it to make sense, waiting for it to sink in, but it doesn’t. My head’s pounding and the room seems too small. I want to run to the beach, swim until my lungs are ready to explode and I’m too tired to go against the waves anymore. But the second I leave the room they’ll be all over me again, suffocating me. I’m pacing back and forth, trying to fucking think, trying
not
to fucking think, and my phone beeps, two, three, four times. I reach out, knock it off the desk, and it falls onto the floor, falls apart. I turn up the volume on my iPod, louder, louder, slamming my pillow over my face, screaming into it.

This isn’t real this isn’t real this isn’t real.

When Mum comes home from work I’m still weeping. Evidently, my appearance doesn’t tell her enough because she says, ‘You were meant to call me after the appointment. How did it go?’ And then I have to say aloud the words that have been rattling around in my brain all afternoon.

‘Tai’s dying.’

Mum sits on my bed for a long time that night, stroking my hair as I sob. Hours after she’s gone to bed, I’m still awake, my mind teeming with questions.
How? And when? Will he get sick first? What will it be like, when he dies? And how the fuck are we all meant to carry on afterwards?

The next morning I wake late, my eyes gritty and sore. I’m vaguely aware of Mum talking on the phone, saying things like
malignant tumour
and
such a shock
. I stay under the shower till there’s no more hot water, then stand in front of the mirror and start slathering on eyeliner.

Mum stands behind me and watches.

‘I called the school, sweetheart. Mia had already rung them about Tai, but I think you need to have this week off.’

‘Um. Okay. What did they say?’

Mum’s face collapses. ‘They said they’re really sorry.’

My breathing is short and shaky now, like I’ve forgotten how, and I put down the eyeliner.

When I’ve finished dressing I call out to Mum, ‘I’m going to Tai’s.’

• • •

Tai’s house is strangely quiet. I knock before letting myself in, and find Mia alone at the kitchen table. She starts when she sees me.

‘Oh, Juliet, I didn’t hear you.’

‘Sorry – I did knock. It’s so quiet in here. Nothing’s happened, has it?’

‘Not since yesterday.’ It’s meant to be wry and ironic but it’s not.

‘I just wanted to see Tai.’

Mia shakes her head. ‘I don’t think so, Juliet. Tai doesn’t really want to talk to anyone right now. You can go and knock on his door, though. You never know.’

I walk down the hall to stand at his door and knock, feeling both anxious and absurd. ‘Tai? It’s me. Do you want some company?’

‘No.’ It’s flat, and the rejection hits me like a hard ball in the stomach.

‘Oh. That’s okay. Can I come in and ignore you then?’

There’s a pause, and I think he’s going to let me in, but he says quietly, ‘I just really want to be alone.’

I trudge back down the hall, and though I’ve promised myself I won’t cry, I’m close to it. Mia says gently, ‘Don’t take it personally, Juliet.’ Yeah. Okay.

• • •

I spend the rest of the day in bed, but when there’s a knock on my bedroom door that afternoon I leap up, sure it must be Tai. ‘Oh. It’s you,’ I say when Gen sticks her head around the door.

‘Thanks. What’s wrong with me?’

‘Nothing. Sorry. I thought you were Tai.’

Gen sits on the end of my bed and tucks her legs under her. ‘Want to tell me about it?’

‘I went to Tai’s today, and he didn’t want to see me. At all. Like, wouldn’t even let me in his room.’

‘Did you guys have a fight or something?’

Oh god. Gen doesn’t know. And I’m going to have to say it aloud. Again.

‘Nah, it’s just – you know that biopsy he had? Well he got the results yesterday, and it’s bad, Gen, it’s so bad, and . . .’ I can’t finish.

Gen reaches out to take my hand.

‘He’s dying, Gen.’

Gen puts a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, Juliet – oh no . . .’ She wraps her arms around me, and we cry.

When we’ve cried ourselves dry, Gen sets about fixing the mascara explosion on my face.

‘It’s just so wrong,’ I say. ‘It’s so
fucking
wrong.’

She thinks for a minute. ‘It is. But, Juliet, we’re all dying. He just happens to have a prediction about it, you know? Do you really want to be like everyone else, making him feel like he’s at his own funeral for the next few months, watching you fall apart? He’s going to need you – and he’ll need you to love him like he’s still alive.’

• • •

The next afternoon I go over to Tai’s and tap at his bedroom door. When he refuses to let me in, I sit there on the carpet, staring at my shoes. Mia fusses around me, asking if I’ve had something to eat. She brings one of Tai’s favourite foods, and I announce to him what I’m eating. Still silence. I pull a notebook from my schoolbag, find a pen, and write a note to him before sliding it under the door. Still nothing. I shift to get more comfortable, my back against Tai’s door, and turn my iPod on.

Frustrated, I yell out, ‘I can smell your breath from here, Tai.’ Because of the music in my ears I don’t hear him coming to the door, and fall backwards onto the carpet when he opens it.

He looks down at me. ‘Is that right?’ he says, and although his voice is sad and tired there’s a spark in there, too.

‘Yeah, that’s right. You might want to consider some gum. And a shower.’

He smiles, sniffing at his underarms, making a face for my amusement.

‘I guess a shower is probably in order,’ he admits.

While he’s in the bathroom, Mia, bristling with excitement, orders Stanley to go and pick up the ingredients for apricot chicken. She whips around Tai’s room, changing sheets and picking up socks and opening the window to air out the Teenage Boy Smell.

By the time Tai’s scrubbed his teeth and sprayed on what smells like a whole can of deodorant, Mia’s bustling around in the kitchen. I’m beginning to think I’ll get a second alone with him when Hendrix and River come barrelling at him. As they drag him down the hallway he looks over his shoulder and mouths, ‘Beach walk later?’

While he’s playing with his little brothers, I watch him when I think he’s not looking, expecting him to look different. And he’s paler, sure, but mostly he just looks like Tai.

After dinner we walk down to the beach. It’s so cold my fingers turn numb, but I don’t care. We make our way right down to the water and sit together on the sand. I slide my fingers under his jumper, under his shirt, to where I can feel his chest rising and falling with his breathing.

There are a million questions I want to ask, but not now. I snuggle into him, and he rests his cheek on my hair.

‘Do you have to go back to school tomorrow?’ I say, but instead of answering Tai kisses me. His hands are on my cheeks and he kisses me so hard I fall back into the sand, pulling him with me.

In one of the spaces where we pause to breathe, I whisper into the side of his neck, so quietly I can barely hear it, ‘I love you, Tai.’

He tenses, ever so slightly, but I’m certain he hasn’t heard and we kiss again as if nothing’s happened. It’s probably better that way. He’s got enough to deal with. I love him. But he’s dying.

‘I love you, Tai.’ It’s so quiet I almost think I’ve imagined it. I start to kiss her again, pretending I haven’t heard. Her saying it should have made me feel fantastic, but it doesn’t, because there’s a voice inside me saying,
You’re dying, Tai. You’re fucked, Tai. And so what if she does love you? You’re still going to leave her, whether you want to or not
.

I’m telling the voice in my head to piss off, to just let me enjoy the sensation of Juliet’s lips on mine, then she squirms suddenly. ‘Ouch.’

I lift my head. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, there’s just . . .’ She pushes me off, wrenches out a stick from under her back. ‘A stick.’

I hug my knees and look at the ocean, even though it’s too dark to see anything. ‘We should get back,’ I say.

Juliet checks her watch. ‘Shit, I’m late for curfew.’

We walk back in silence, and when we get to my place I say, ‘Do you want me to walk you home?’

‘Nah, I’ll be okay. See you tomorrow?’

‘Yeah.’

She kisses me goodnight and hurries away. Back in the warmth of my room I see that Mum has draped my school uniform over the chair near my desk. Over dinner we talked about me going back to school tomorrow. Mum and Dad reckon it’d be good to finish school, that it would
mean something
. I don’t think it’ll make any difference if I go or not, and besides, everyone will act weird – they’ll give me those looks. But I don’t want to be stuck in the house, either, and it’s not like I can just hang out at the beach all day. Mum said it was up to me –
Whatever you want, Tai
– but I don’t know what I want anymore, apart from things to be like they used to.

The next morning I decide to drag myself out of bed and into the shower. Then I swipe on some eyeliner, grab my bus pass and shrug on my blazer before practically running out the door. I don’t even have time to grab the coffee I’d kill for – I’m late.

Tai isn’t on the bus but I didn’t really expect him to be. I know he’ll slip in late, trying to be inconspicuous. Like
that’s
going to work.

At least on the bus I’ve got time to sit and think about last night. I remember how Tai tensed; I’m starting to think that he did hear me say that I love him. Now I feel like an idiot. He obviously doesn’t feel the same way.

I find the girls sitting in our usual spot, throw my bag on the ground with theirs, sit down, and announce, ‘Fuck, I hate mornings.’

‘Well good morning, sunshine.’ Gen looks me up and down. ‘You look like shit.’

‘Bad night.’

Rae looks up from the assignment she’s writing, the one that’s due today. ‘What happened?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Ooh, it’s definitely interesting, then.
We
want to talk about it, don’t we?’

‘I bet she finally had sex with Tai and it was awful,’ Lina predicts.

‘Um, hello Lina, I’m right here? And for your information,
no
.’