A Thousand Boy Kisses(63)



I stared silently at the sky. Poppy was quiet too, until she suddenly said, “It wasn’t long after you left that I began feeling tired, so tired that I couldn’t get out of bed.”

I grew still. She was finally telling me. Telling me what happened. Telling me it all.

“My mama took me to the doctor and they did some tests.” She shook her head. “To be honest, everyone thought I was acting different because you had left.” I closed my eyes and inhaled. “I did too,” she added, holding me tighter. “For the first few days, I could let myself pretend you’d just gone on vacation. But after weeks began to pass, the void you left within me began to hurt so bad. My heart was completely broken. On top of that, my muscles ached. I would sleep too much, unable to find any energy.”

Poppy fell silent. Then she continued. “We ended up having to go to Atlanta for more tests. We stayed with Aunt DeeDee while they figured out what was wrong.”

Poppy lifted her head and, with a hand on my cheek, guided my eyes to meet hers. “I never told you, Rune. I kept up the pretense that I was okay. Because I couldn’t bear to hurt you more. I could see you weren’t doing real good. Every time we video-chatted, I could see you getting angrier and angrier at being back in Oslo. The things you said were just not you.”

“So that visit to your Aunt DeeDee’s,” I cut in, “it was because you were sick. It wasn’t just a visit like you told me?”

Poppy nodded and I saw the guilt in her green eyes. “I knew you, Rune. And I saw you were slipping. You were always sullen in attitude. You were always darker in nature. But when you were with me, you weren’t. I could only imagine what finding out I was sick would do to you.”

Poppy’s head gently fell back to rest on my chest. “It wasn’t long before I received my diagnosis: advanced Hodgkin lymphoma. It rocked my family. At first, it rocked me. How could it not?” I held her closer, but Poppy inched back. “Rune, I know I’ve never looked at the world like everyone else. I have always lived each day to the fullest. I know I’ve always embraced aspects of the world no one else does. I think, in some way, it was because I knew I wouldn’t have the time to experience them like everyone else. I think, deep down, my spirit knew. Because when the doctor told us I would only have a couple of years, even with medication and treatment, I was okay.”

Poppy’s eyes began to shine with tears. Mine did too.

“We all stayed in Atlanta; we lived with Aunt DeeDee. Ida and Savannah started new schools. Daddy traveled for his work. I was home-schooled, or tutored in hospital. My mama and daddy prayed for a miracle. But I knew there was none to be had. I was okay. I kept my chin up. The chemo was hard. Losing my hair was tough.” Poppy blinked, clearing her vision, then confided, “But cutting you off almost killed me. It was my choice. The blame lies with me. I just wanted to save you, Rune. Save you from seeing me that way. I saw what it was doing to my parents and sisters. But you, I could protect. I could give you what my family didn’t get, life. Freedom. The chance to move on without pain.”

“It didn’t work,” I managed to say.

Poppy lowered her gaze. “I know that now. But believe me, Rune. I thought of you every single day. I pictured you, prayed for you. Hoped that the darkness I saw sprouting within you had faded with my absence.”

Poppy rested her chin on my chest once more. “Tell me, Rune. Tell me what happened to you.”

My jaw clenched, not wanting to let myself feel what I did then. But I could never say no to my girl. It was impossible. “I was angry,” I said, pushing her hair from her pretty face. “No one could tell me where you went. Why you cut me off. My parents wouldn’t get off my back. My pappa pissed me off 24/7. I blamed him for everything. I still do.”

Poppy opened her mouth to speak, but I shook my head. “No,” I bit out. “Don’t.”

Poppy closed her mouth. I closed my eyes, and forced myself to continue. “I went to school, but it wasn’t long before I fell in with people just as pissed at the world as me. It wasn’t long before I began to party. To drink, to smoke—to do the opposite of anything my pappa told me.”

“Rune,” Poppy said sadly. She didn’t say anything else.

“That became my life. I threw my camera away. Then I packed away everything that reminded me of you.” I barked out a laugh. “Shame I couldn’t pull out my heart and pack it away too. Because that prick wouldn’t let me forget you, no matter how much I tried. And then we returned. Back here. And I saw you in the hallway and all that anger I still carried in my veins turned into a tidal wave.”

I rolled onto my side, opened my eyes and ran my hand down Poppy’s face. “Because you looked so beautiful. Any image I had in my head of what you would look like at seventeen was blown out of the water. The minute I saw this brown hair, those big green eyes fixed on mine, I knew that any effort I’d made over the past two years to push you away was ruined. By one look. Ruined.”

I swallowed. “Then when you told me about…” I trailed off, and Poppy shook her head.

“No,” she said. “Enough now. You’ve said enough.”

“And you?” I asked. “Why did you come back?”

“Because I was done,” she said with a sigh. “Nothing was working. Each new treatment made no difference. The oncologist told us straight out: nothing would work. That was all I needed to make up my mind. I wanted to go home. I wanted to live out my remaining days at home, on palliative treatment, with those I loved most.”

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