Leaving My Fingerprints

“Talk about what?” I asked, trying to play dumb again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Demi rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it. “If you don’t tell me right now, I’m marching over to Nick and telling him you love him.”

“No,” I begged. “Please Demi, don’t.”

“Then talk,” she crossed her arms, her eyes narrow as she stared at me.

I sighed. I had no choice now. I would tell Demi, and then I’d have to tell Nick, and the whole summer would be ruined. Well, it was fun while it lasted. I moved closer to Demi and lowered my voice. “Before I tell you,” I said. “You have to promise you won’t tell anyone. It’s better that I tell them.”

“Tell them what?” she asked, her voice low as well.

“Promise me Demi,” I begged.

She sighed. “I know I’m going to regret this, but I promise.”

“Okay well um,” I started. “I kind of have um—“

“Oh my God, just tell me,” she said.

“Leukemia,” I lowered my voice more.

“You have what?” she asked, leaning in.

I groaned. “Leukemia,” I said a little more loudly.

Demi gasped and covered her mouth. “But how, but you, and Nick, and you and too young, and—“

“Demi, breathe,” I commanded her. I sighed as tears started brimming in her eyes. “Sh, please don’t cry. People will know.”

“They should know,” she exclaimed, quickly wiping her eyes. “Why don’t they know already? Why doesn’t Nick know? He doesn’t know, does he? I mean, it doesn’t seem like he does.”

“No one does,” I said. “You don’t understand. They can’t.”

“Why the hell not?” she demanded. “If you’re going to – die, then your best freaking friend should know.”

“He will,” I said. “But you don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me,” she said.

“Can I come back yet?” Joe called out.

“No,” Demi shouted back and turned back to me. “Explain.”

I sighed. “It’s the last stage Demi,” I said. “I have 6 months at the most.”

She gasped, covering her mouth. “S-s-six months?”

I shrugged a reassuring smile on my face. I was going to die. I had come to terms with it. Or rather I would have been if this summer could have been normal. But now that was shot to hell. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” she gasped unbelievingly. “Maxie, you’re going to die. I’d say that’s pretty bad. Why haven’t you told Nick?”

I sighed. “I – don’t know.”

“He’d want to know,” she insisted.

“You sound like my mother,” I groaned. “I know he’d want to know, and he deserves to know and yata yata. But I’m not ready to tell him. Why can’t anyone just accept that?”

She put her hands up defensively. “Woah my bad. I just think he’d want to know you’re dying – soon.” She winced at her own words, and threw her arms around me. “Maxie, you cannot die. There has to be something they can do.”

I hugged her back, smiling slightly. “It’s too late,” I said. “It’s the last stage.”

“Tell him,” she pulled away.

“Not yet,” I said again.

“And when would the best time be Max?” she asked. “When you’re on your death bed?”

I winced. “I just – want this summer to be normal, you know? I want to give him a few memories of me as I am before I die.”

She winced at my nonchalant tone. “But he’s your best friend,” she reminded me.

I sighed. “I know. But I just – can’t tell him yet.”

“Tell who what?” Nick said from behind us. I turned to look at him, and froze. Oh man.