Young & Stupid

Hi. I’m Nolan, and I have Cystic Fibrosis. You probably don’t know what that means. It’s a genetic terminal disease that messes up my lungs and digestive system.

“Nol, want to go to a party Friday night?” My girlfriend, Annie asks from across the table. Her blue eyes glittered in the noon sun. I couldn’t help but grin like an idiot, I can’t believe a girl as beautiful as her would love a boy like me. My disease isn’t a big turn-on.

“Sure.” I nod. I fiddled with the plastic straw in my Coke and watched her tapping at her phone keyboard, oblivious to the crying baby at the table beside us.

“I’ll be right back.” I stand up from the table and walked to the men’s room. Grabbing a bottle of Enzyme pills from my pocket, I pop open the cap and swallow two quickly. I have to take them to be able to digest food.

“The food should be ready soon.” She smiles as I sit back down. “So, what are you doing today?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment.” I reply unhappily.

“Anything serious?” She enquires, placing her phone beside her glass.

“Nah, nothing to worry about.” I reassure her. At least, I hoped it wasn’t serious. It seemed everyone has been keeping the truth from me.

…

“Nolan, Mrs. Edwards, Dr. Jones will see you now.” A woman announces from the reception desk. I follow my mother into the all-familiar office where he sits at his desk, a slight frown on his face.

“Please, have a seat.” He gestured.

“Is he going to be okay?” My mother asks, tapping impatiently on the arm of the chair.

“Well, according to the tests from last month… he isn’t doing that great.” He stutters uncomfortably.

“What… what do you mean?” I whisper.

“Have you been experiencing any strange symptoms lately?”

“I’ve been sick all the time…” I say, “Worse than usual, that is.”

“Your immune system has weakened considerably in the last three months, even just getting a cold could threaten your life at this point.” Dr. Jones explains. My mother grabs my hand in a death grip, her face filled with worry.

“Am I going to die?” I ask. I wanted an outright answer. They think since I’m only 17, they don’t have to tell me the truth.

“We’ll try everything we can to prevent that, but, the next time you feel even the slightest bit sick, go to the hospital immediately. We can’t take any chances.” He states. The blood rushed from my face, I can’t die. I don’t think I’m ready for the truth after all. A thought passes through my mind, what about Annie? This would destroy her. I can’t let that happen.

“Can I talk to your mother alone, Nolan?” He asks. I slide out of the seat, and walk out into the hall, closing the door behind me. I put my ear up against the door, trying to hear snippets of the whispered conversation. He calls me back in, so I return to the chair.

“So? What was that about?” I ask, trying to sound calm. He clears his throat, looking directly at me.

“Well as you know, it’s has been a miracle that you’ve lived this long, with such a good life. I just want to tell you, if in the event you may not make it…” He stops, noticing the fear on my face. “Which is a very low chance, that you should be prepared.”

“I-I am going to die?” I sob.

“We aren’t sure. You could live five years, or six months, its up to your body to decide. All we can do now is try everything we can to keep you healthy.” The doctor sighs. The news hits me like a brick wall. Even my doctor doesn’t have any hope left. I am prepared. I’ve been prepared my whole life, but I have to save Annie from this.

…

It’s now or never. I’ve been avoiding Annie up until this party tonight, and I’m going to have to get it over with. I grab her hand, and lead her outside. She smiles as the snow covering the ground shimmers in the moonlight.

“It’s so beautiful.” She breathes.

“Totally.” I nod.

“And cold.” She shivers, wrapping her arm around me.

“Um, listen,” I say, and bite my lip. “We… need to talk.” Annie’s face fell, and she pulled away.

“What do you mean, ‘we need to talk?’” She said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

“Annie... I-I just,” I hesitated and exhaled before looking into her awaiting eyes. I tense my jaw, “I don’t love you. So I don't see why we should be together anymore.” I look down, trying to avoid her reply, but it’s for he best. It’s better than dealing with the idea of me dying. I hear her choke out a sob, before she grabs my hand and whispers,

“Why are you telling me this now?” She pauses before speaking up. “Is it about the doctors appointment? What happened?”

“Like I said, nothing.” I wrench my hand from hers and turn to the road. Rip it off, like a band-aid.

“Nolan, come back!” She cries, but I ignore her. My house isn’t far from here, so I decide to walk back. I realize it wasn’t such a great idea when I sit on the curb, my chest heaving. I watch the snow falling heavier as my conscience drowns my thoughts. When my breathing calms, I stand up and manage to get back to my house. I flop down on the bed, suddenly shivering.

…

“Honey, we have to leave soon.” My mom sings through my bedroom door. I struggle to open my eyes, tired beyond belief. I finally sat up, and with it came a rush of nausea. I ran to my bathroom, empting the contents of my stomach.

“Nolan!” She rushes in and grabs my hand. “Are you okay!?” I lean up against the wall in a coughing fit. “Come on, we have to go to the hospital.” She helps me up, pulling me outside into the car. The coughing has finally subsided. I sit in the passenger’s seat, leaning my head on the window.

…

I wake up with beeping in my ears, noticing I’m in a hospital room. I must’ve fallen asleep in the car. I whip my head around as someone comes crashing through the door.

“Nolan!” Annie shouts. A nurse shushes her and she moves past the woman. She sits on the edge of my bed carefully.

“Hi.” I say, my throat dry.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks, placing her hand in mine. “We could’ve avoided this mess.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” I whisper.

“Hurt me? I’m glad you’re that worried about me, but I can deal with this.” She says,
“Can you deal with this?” I open my mouth to reply, but I stop. Maybe I can’t.
“I need you to be happy. You got pneumonia, because of me. You we’re so worried about me, you didn’t stop to think about yourself.”

“Pneumonia?”

“They didn’t tell you?” She questioned. I shook my head. She stays quite for a second and I take the opportunity to speak up.

“I’m so sorry for this, I love you.” I say.

“You don’t have to say sorry. You have nothing to apologize for.” She replies. A tear runs down her cheek, “I love you too.” I wrap my arms around her waist and we sit in silence.

“You should get some rest.” She says after a few minutes, sitting up.

“Fine.” I croaked. “Stay with me?” She gave a small smile laid back down beside me. I pulled her close, trying to make myself more comfortable in the cramped bed. She falls asleep on my shoulder, and I smile as my eyes fall closed.

…

After we wake up, I see my mother peek in the door, while talking to a doctor.

“I should let you have some time with your mom.” Annie says before skipping out of the room. I hear my mom come in; she hovers over me and kisses my cheek,

“Whatever happens, I love you.” She says.

“I love you too.” I smile.

“The doctor says there is a slim chance you’ll make it through the week.” She says, distractedly picking at the bed sheet.

“Really?” I croak. I’m not ready for this. She sits on the edge of my bed and we sit for a few minutes before Annie enters the room with a chocolate bar.

“Did I interrupt?” She says shyly, standing by the door.

“No, of course not.” My mom insists.

“Come sit.” I point to the chair and she walks over.

“You should sleep, you look tired.” My mother scolds. I roll my eyes, before agreeing. She kisses my cheek once again before leaving.

“I love you. Nighty night, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” She sings.

“Love you too.” I laugh. I notice Annie’s silver painted nails, her long blonde hair, and the way her nose crinkles when she smiles. I finally feel safe. Whatever happens, I know I have her.