You Should Know

You have a visitor, the nurse tells me, smiling.

I only ever have one visitor, so I already know who it is.

Sure enough, Victoria comes in a few minutes later, greeting me with a hug.

I ask her if she brought everything, and she nods.

I like when Victoria visits. It’s as if I have a normal life again.

She’ll bring her makeup and we talk about ‘girl stuff’ and paint our nails.

You know, the usual. Just like we used to.

You remember.

And she tells me about you all.

It’s the best part.

What you cooked everyone for dinner; a lame joke Nate told; Ryland speaking in his ‘Guy Ripley’ voice for an entire week; Gabe and the goofy things he does to make the fans and the band laugh.

We’re going to the U.K. next week, she informs me.

Oh, is all I can say.

I don’t want her to see my disappointment, although I know she notices.

I get sad when you all go on tour, because then I have no company. But she always comes back after a while and tells me all about it, so I shouldn’t complain.

She promised not to tell you that she still keeps in touch with me.

I think you’d get mad.

Not so much that we’re still friends.

More so that you don’t know what we know.

Not yet, at least.

I’ll tell you everything, I promise.

Alex, you’re lucky to have such a good friend like Victoria.

I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.

We wouldn’t have met if it wasn’t for you, so you should know I wish I could thank you for it every day.

We’re cutting my hair today.

I thought you liked it long, Victoria says, as I take the scissors to my dark waves.

I do.

I just want a change. It’s the only thing I can control lately.

I’m taping a curl onto this page.

This is the last time it’ll ever be this long, I think.

You used to like when I wore my hair down, back when it was long and we were happy.

You remember.

I was wearing that yellow sundress with the white trim, my hair loose and wavy, and we met your parents for lunch at the outdoor café near their house.

You told me I should never cut it again.

I remember.

Do you?

I hope you’ll understand someday.

I hope you’ll let me explain.

You should know that I’m dying.

I’m sorry.