Radiate (31 page)

The fire pops and sparks, hissing out a victory cry for us.

I spy Daniel through the orangy glow. I wave, and he smiles back at me halfheartedly. Damn, he really is distracted if he can’t just chill out and enjoy the festivities. We move into our pompom dance routine with the marching band playing along, and, I swear, Daniel and his friends are talking about me. Two guys point at me, laugh, and then elbow Daniel. He shoves them off and crosses his hands over his chest. They’re probably commenting on my lack of hair. I could care less. The skin on my entire body has grown rhinoceros thick over the past few weeks. I finish up the routine, bouncing on my right leg, but not executing the Rockette-like kick at the end. No one notices... except Daniel—or so it seems when I make eye contact with him. It’s like he’s embarrassed by me, as though I’m not a whole cheerleader.

To prove him—and anyone else with doubts—wrong, I shift into the pyramid formation. First, Melanie Otto climbs onto my shoulders, and I lift her higher up onto Ashlee’s shoulders. Then, I take Lora and put her up top, as well. My heavy lifting is over, so I hobble around front and dip down into a split. The fans go crazy, cheering as the fire swooshes behind us. A red-hot ember sizzles out of the wooden structure and lands one millimeter from my left leg. I scream and freak, so afraid of anything happening to my weaker limb. I roll out of the way as Nick McDugall, one of the drummers, runs up and stamps it out with his booted foot. I glance back over my shoulder to see if Daniel has any concern, but he has his head in his hands and his two teammates are cracking up.

When more sparks and cinders begin falling into the crowd—it wasn’t just me—the Maxwell fire department steps in and says it’s time to snuff the bonfire out. It was magical and brilliant while it lasted.

Lora grabs her poms and calls out, “Everyone’s headed to the Burger Barn. Uncle Ross is dropping me off. You coming?”

Daniel’s striding toward me.

“I’ve got Mom’s car. I’ll meet you there.”

The remnants of the fire reflect in the white eleven on Daniel’s jersey as he approaches.

“Bitchin’ bonfire, huh?”

He tugs my arm and pulls me along with him. “You could have been frickin’ maimed by that chunk of wood that fell near you.”

So, he did notice. “But I wasn’t. I handled it.”

“Yeah, by screaming out like an idiot.”

“Ex
-cuuuuuuse
me? Who are you calling an idiot?”

“Hayley, look—”

“No, you look. I screamed because I’m human and it scared the shit out of me. The only people who heard me above the roar of the crowd were the few around me... and apparently you.”

If he’d just say he was worried about me and he cared, that would be one thing. But to be reprimanded by him like I’m some little kid—uh-uh, that ain’t happening.

He shoves his hands into his thicker-than-most hair. “I can’t be there
every
second to protect you. My mom said you fell at a game a few weeks ago.”

“It happens, Daniel.” A long sigh escapes him as people file past us.

“That’s embarrassing,” he says quietly.

“To me or to you?” We’re standing in the subdued hue of the quenched fire, yet I’m burning mad. “Spit it out. You have something to say. You’ve barely talked to me all week. It’s like you’re avoiding me. What’s your glitch?” I ask bravely.

Silence sizzles on the night air as Daniel glances about to see who might be watching. God forbid I cause a scene or give the Pops something to gossip about on the PHS message boards or text messages.

He stares at his sneakered feet. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Hayley.”

“Do what?”

He spreads his hands wide. “This. Us. See, I’m just not... I’m not good with being around sick people.”

I can’t help but chortle. “I’m not sick, Daniel.” Not anymore. Not that I ever really
felt
sick. My body was ill; I was fine.

He continues to shake his head. “I can’t handle the responsibility of being there for you. Not with football season and trying to get a college scholarship. It’s too much stress.”

I shove my poms into my purse and rest my weight on the crutches. If I were a dragon from some mythical story, I would be snorting fire at him, chasing him through the forest, because that’s what’s churning inside me. Trying to calm my resentment, I say, “You said you’d be there for me. You promised.”

“That was before . . .”

“Before
what?
”

He takes a deep breath. I hope he chokes on it. “Before all of the side effects of your surgery and treatment and stuff... just all of it, Hayley. I thought everything was over when you got out of the hospital.”

“Yeah, well, cancer sort of takes time to get over,” I say sternly. He’s totally flaking. Just like a guy. Just like a stupid, selfish, immature high school guy who thinks only of himself. “Is it because I don’t have any hair?”

He shrugs. “Sort of. Maybe. Or not really. I don’t know.”

“What
do
you know?” I snap.

“I don’t know!” he growls back, and then stops himself.

I am on him like white on rice. “Well you know what, Mr. Football Star? Cancer creeps in uninvited and totally fucks with your life. I can’t help that I lost my hair. I sort of had what they call ‘radical’ chemotherapy and massive doses of radiation. And now, I’m trying to train my boneless and nerveless leg how to
walk
again. Not just for tomorrow, but for the rest of my life. So, I’m sorry if my ‘illness’ doesn’t fit into your ideal image of what someone’s senior year should be like. It’s not like I went online and ordered this for myself.”

My chest heaves up and down as I’m gasping for breath. Never in my life have I ever had it out with someone like this. A little part of me is secretly dying—that part of me that allowed Daniel Delafield to be more than a crush. I suppose it’s because my heart was really falling for him and he just dropped back five yards and punted it away.

Finally, he speaks, not meeting my stare. “I just can’t deal with it. It’s such a... downer.”

As if I didn’t lose my shit before, it takes all the strength in my body
not
to wind up my fist and smack him right in his smug nose. My wrath gets the best of me, and I scream at him as if he’s just scored the winning touchdown for the Patriots in the state championship game.

“Yeah? Well screw you, Daniel! It’s not about
you!
It’s about
me!
It’s about getting on with my life the best I can and not letting this kind of bullshit get me down or get the best of me. I’m lucky to even have a leg. I’m lucky the cancer didn’t spread. Do you know I’ll have to get checked for cancer regularly now? For the rest of my life? What do you have to do?”

He reaches for me, but I pull away. “It’s just so hard for me to handle, Hayley.”

“You egomaniac! It didn’t happen to you. It happened to me. And if you can’t be there for me... then the hell with you! Go play football and hang out with your buddies who laugh at the bald cheerleader behind her back. Go wait for your precious college scholarship. I don’t need you!”

“Hayley, don’t be—”

“Go Away!”

I tromp off, letting my crutches carry me away as fast as I can. I make it to Mom’s car in a surprising flash and stash my stuff in the back seat. I slam the door, crank the ignition, and speed away from PHS before Daniel can catch up with me... if he was even trying.

At the bottom of the hill, there’s a red light where Patriots Drive meets the highway. This is where the flood gates open, the ones I’ve held closed so long from this emotional tsunami. I pound my fists against the steering wheel repeatedly, like it’s going to make a difference. As if it’s going to change anything—make my scar disappear, make my nerve regenerate, make my hair grow faster. Make Daniel understand and want to be there for me.

“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit to hell!” I scream at the top of my lungs, knowing no one but God can hear me. “Why? Why? Why?” I don’t understand. Why is all of this stupid shit happening? This should be the best year ever, and instead it’s just totally fucked.

“Oh, Hayley’s so strong,” I say, mocking what people have said to my parents.

It’s all a disguise, a mask I’ve worn to fit in and be normal. I’m not, though. I’m completely different, and everyone knows it. I might as well be doomed to wear a big red
C
on my clothing forever to remind me and everyone else about the disease that has mucked up my life.

Cars whirl past me on the highway, some honking, others flashing their lights.

Here I sit.

All alone.

My hazard lights flash red outside the car, illuminating my emotional emergency.

Swimming in tears and angst, dampening my uniform.

Death grip on the steering wheel, I know I’ve got to keep going.

Forging ahead.

Continuing.

I have to.

I must.

I will.

But not until the racking sobs ease or at least ebb.

This is my final release.

A long time coming.

The light turns green. A Jeep behind me honks its horn.

I wave at it and then swipe the tears off my cheeks.

It’s done. The crying jag, that is.

I can move forward now.

This is the fifth time that I cry—
and it’s going to be my last.

A friend drops their plans when you’re in trouble, shares joy in your accomplishments, feels sad when you’re in pain. A friend encourages your dreams and offers advice—but when you don’t follow it, they still respect and love you.

—Doris Wild Helmering

I turn the car onto the highway and make it through all of the green lights of the fast food strip to head toward my house. I opt against meeting up with everyone at the Burger Barn. What’s the point? So Daniel and his friends can ridicule the bald chick? So I can watch as he scouts out whom he’ll take to homecoming instead of me? No, thanks. I’m hot, tired, angry, spent. I just want to go home, curl up with Leeny on the couch, and eat ice cream.

Yeah, I definitely have an appetite for some ice cream... which is good.

The music from the CD player is cranked, a strong techno beat that helps drown out the instant replay of the showdown with Daniel that my mind loves to cue up every second. I focus on the 808 beat, the whir of the synthesizers, and the repetitive keyboard riff. When I pull into the driveway, I shut the car off and sit for a while, absorbing the musical flow around me, seeping into my veins, and re-energizing me.

My melodious therapy is interrupted when my BlackBerry goes off. It’s Lora.

WHERE R U?

@ HOME

Y?

DON’T WANT 2 TALK @ IT

HAYLEY!

DANIEL BROKE UP W/ME. OK?

Y?

BCUZ HE’S A DUCK

A DUCK? LIKE QUACK?

A DICK!

WHAT DID HE DO 2 U?

WILL TELL U L8R.

COME HANG OUT

DON’T WANT 2

WANT ME 2 COME OVER?

THAT’S SWEET

I MEAN IT

NO, I’M GOOD HAVE FUN

U SURE?

YEP :)

HUGS

C U 2MORROW HOMECOMING QUEEN

RIGHT! IN MY DREAMS

TTYL

A knock on the driver’s window scares hell and four dollars out of me.

I don’t know which one of us jumps more, Gabriel or me.

Rolling the window down, I snark at my friend. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He smiles. “If your music weren’t so loud, you would’ve heard me.”

“Thank you, Nan,” I say when he sounds like my mother. I peer into my rearview mirror and see Gabriel’s car parked in front of my house. Did he follow me here from the bonfire? Oh God, did he hear me screaming at Daniel?

I get out of the car and shove my pompoms at him.

“These don’t really match my outfit, Hay,” he says jokingly.

Jerking open the back door, I reach for my crutches. “Look, I sort of hate all guys right now.”

“I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Doesn’t matter. Your species did.”

A final tear escapes from my lashes. Gabriel’s not dumb. He reaches out with his thumb and slides it away. “I overheard the whole thing. You can talk to me, you know?”

I push his hand away and downplay the incident. “Nothing to talk about. Just another day in the life of Hayley Matthews.”