Present Perfect(85)

“Noah…,” I said breathlessly.

“Please, don’t push me away, Tweet,” he begged.

“I’m not pushing,” I whispered.

My fingers found their way and twisted in his hair. Noah’s hands slid down my body and landed behind the top of my thighs. As he lifted me up, I wrapped my legs securely around his waist. My back was pushed harder against the window with every grind of his hips. I wanted him to take my pain away. I wanted to feel safe and protected like I always did when I was with him. I wanted to feel normal one last time. I’ve never told Noah how much I loved him and I needed to before it was too late.

My chest pressed against his with each rapid breath. We looked into each other’s eyes.

“Noah, I…” Before I could get another word out we heard the front door open and his name being called.

Quickly, I disentangled my hands from his hair and slid down his body, until my feet hit the floor. Running his hands through his hair a few times, Noah stepped away from me a second before Brooke rounded the corner. Seeing me, stopped her in her tracks.

“I didn’t know we were having company.” I found her choice of words odd. This wasn’t even Noah’s place. I didn’t understand how she even got in.

Never taking his eyes off me, Noah said, “Brooke, can you give us a minute, please.”

“No, I can’t,” she said, annoyed.

“Please.”

“Noah, we were supposed to have this place all to ourselves through New Year’s Eve.”

Noah turned on his heels and headed toward Brooke, grabbing her arm, they disappeared into what I assumed was a bedroom.

I was frozen in place. I didn’t know what to do. I could hear them through the door arguing.

“Noah, I’m sorry she’s dying, but she’s not going to use that to come between us and ruin our time here. The world does not revolve around Amanda Kelly.”

“Don’t you ever talk about her like that.”

“I’m not trying to be a bitch. It’s just, this was supposed to be our time. We wouldn’t have to worry about roommates or your mom catching us. That’s what this time was supposed to be…”

Oh my god, they were playing house together over Christmas break. The privacy he was talking about was so he and Brooke could screw each other as much as they wanted.

I hurried out the door as I texted Emily to come pick me up. I walked as quickly and as far away as I could tolerate. I was starting to limp a lot more, due to the pain the cancer was causing. I didn’t think I could handle anymore walking or Noah at the moment.

What was he thinking taking me there? He had to know she would be coming back. I was a second away from telling him how much I loved him and being in his bed. What I heard of their argument about my impending death kept playing on a continuous loop in my head.

Suddenly, a realization hit me. Noah felt sorry for me. He wanted to make me feel better and the only thing he could do was have pity sex with me. Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried to keep my sobs trapped in my throat. I could feel the tremors start to course through my body as I continued to walk until I spotted Emily and she drove me home.

It was time to crawl into my bed, throw the covers over my head, and block out Noah, Brooke, and cancer for now. I knew I would have to deal with each of them soon enough, but right now I needed to shut down.





If anyone looked on my computer at my recent searches...let’s just say I’d have some splainin’ to do.

My leg will be sawed off. Since there’s cancer, the tissue will be studied, and then the leg will be incinerated. Up in flames. I asked the doctor what would happen to my leg after the surgery. He wouldn’t tell me. I don’t know why. It wasn’t like I was going to ask them to wrap it up to go so I could take it to show and tell.

I’m not sure why I wanted to know the gory details of my legs future. I guess because it had been with me forever and to just let it go, without even knowing what would become of it, seemed wrong to me.





My surgery was scheduled to take place a week before Christmas. My parents asked if it could be done after the holidays, but Dr. Lang said it was too risky to wait.

I was sitting in my room. It was the last night my leg and I would spend together. I didn’t know what bone cancer looked like, but I imagined it to be black in color and gooey. It was hard to believe that between my knee and ankle this black goo was eating away a part of my body.

I tucked my left leg underneath myself as best I could. I wanted to prepare myself for how my body would look after surgery. I looked online at some pictures of amputees. A lot of the pictures showed how life could go on after amputation. In the photos, the people were surfing, skiing, and hiking mountains. I did none of those things now and hoped that I wouldn’t be peer pressured into becoming a shining example of how full a life without limbs could be.

I took a deep breath then quickly looked. When I saw only my right leg out in front of me, reality set in. Things had been so hectic the past weeks that I hardly had time to think. All the focus had been on the actual surgery date, the chemo schedule, and learning about the cancer. All the attention was on the action of doing, but none on the being. What was life going to be like as an amputee? After everyone had done their job and gone back to their normal lives, what was it going to be like “being” this way? At this time tomorrow, a part of me would be gone.