Not Afraid to Die

"I'm not going to do my homework and I'll eat lots of cake, I promise," Lolita stated, smiling at her father.

Her father rolled his eyes, adjusting his carry-on bag on his shoulder. Dante smiled, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, hoodie making him look more like a criminal than a guitarist. An airplane lifted from the ground outside the window of the airport. Lolita's attention immediately shifted to the flying hunk of metal. Her jaw hung on its hinges, eyes sparkling with delight.

"Did you see that?" she exclaimed, "It flew."

"Lolita, it's an airplane. That's what it does," her father responded.

"That was so cool."

"Honey, it's just a plane."

"But it just raised in the air like it was made of feathers or something."

"The magic gnomes raised it, love," Dante stated.

Lolita's eyes widened in mock fear, "They've escaped from my closet?"

"They bribed me with chicken noodle soup."

Their father sighed, "You two are ridiculous."

Giggles bubbled from Lolita's throat, meeting the air with fluid melody. Dante smiled brightly at his father, pearly white teeth shining. Their father shook his head. His children amused him. Each of their actions was fascinating. They were his muses for that reason. Characters in his books often took on Dante and Lolita's characteristics. Their little quirks made his characters real.

His children were the reason his books were published. They pushed him to succeed to take care of them and he loved them for it everyday of his life.

"Will you two be okay without me?" he asked.

"I'm already okay without you," Dante stated.

"I think the real question was: 'will you remember not to let Lolita jump out of a window to pretend to fly while I'm away?' Yeah, that sounds like what he meant," Lolita said.

"In that case, the answer is I'll be the one pushing her out the window, telling her to fly from the nest."

The intercom beeped once, distracting the conversation, "Now boarding all passengers for Flight SWA1229 to Boston, Massachusetts."

"That's you're flight," Lolita said.

His seat section had been called long ago. For some reason, he decided to stay a little longer with her and Dante. She knew he would miss them, but he would be back soon. A few months from now he would be back home.

However, he would be missing Christmas.

"It is. I'll call you both to make sure everything is okay the second I get settled."

"You shouldn't bother," Lolita said, "I'll be arrested by then and calling you to bail me out of jail."

"She won't be in jail," Dante said, "Just in the corner, sulking."

"Right. Well, I'll make sure to get on Webcam Christmas morning. We'll negotiate a time closer to the actual day," their father said.

"Yes, sir."

"I'll miss you both."

"We'll miss you, too."

He held his arms out, inviting his children to step into them. Dante embraced his father first in a lengthy hug that two grown men weren't normally seen sharing. Dante mumbled a "bye, dad" before pulling away. Lolita took Dante's place in their father's arms, wrapping her arms around his middle, his arms wrapping around her shoulders.

"Bye, daddy," Lolita said, rubbing her face against her father's chest.

"Bye, honey. Don't be too bad for Dante," he returned.

"I won't. Promise."

The intercom beeped again, "Final call for passengers of Flight SWA1229 heading to Boston, Massachusetts."

Lolita released her father. He waved, turned, and walked to the terminal, where he gave the woman standing at the desk his ticket. Dante held three fingers up while their father's back was turned. In swift motions, he put down one finger at a time until no fingers were left standing.

In unison, the pair yelled, "I love you, dad."

Their father turned his head toward them, smile on his face. They did this every time he rode an airplane without them. It was tradition almost.

Another thing he loved about his children.

He raised his hand, flashing the "I love you" sign to his children. They did the same in return. With that final parting gesture, he turned and walked through the gate. Lolita and Dante stayed in their spot, staring at the gate their father went through. They were by no means sad or anxious about their father's departure. He went on trips often enough for them to be okay with him leaving. They liked to wait to make sure he was on the plane safely.

When their father's plane detached from the gate, Dante turned to his younger sibling, "You ready to go?"

"Sure," Lolita said, "I'm going back to sleep the moment we get to your apartment."

It was early. The only flight their father could find that would get him to his destination on time was at six in the morning. Lolita couldn't wakeup before nine most mornings. She didn't have to. The only time she was up before nine was if she was vomiting, and, even then, she was likely to be sleeping on the bathroom floor in the middle of vomiting sessions.

"Let's head out then," Dante said, "The guest room is already set up for you. I'll make pancakes when you're closer to waking up."

"And orange juice?" Lolita stared up at her brother with hope-filled eyes.

She liked orange juice. Dante didn't. Orange juice never graced the shelves of his refrigerator. Ever. Not even when she stayed there. If he didn't have orange juice today, he was going to have to march is non-flamboyant ass to Wal-Mart to get her some.

She wasn't having milk during breakfast time.

"And orange juice," Dante nodded.

A squeal ripped from Lolita's throat. She hopped in circles, hair flying wildly. Dante glanced around, checking to see how much attention Lolita was drawing to them. It didn't seem like too many people had noticed the eccentric girl, and he hoped it would stay that way.

"Lolita, calm down. Those security guards aren't going to believe you have HIV," Dante said.

Lolita halted her movements, titling her head to the side. "But I have the bracelet to prove it," she stated, raising her arm to expose the Medical Alert bracelet on her wrist.

The silver bracelet hanging from her wrist gained almost as much hatred as math. It was an annoying hunk of metal that dangled from her wrist, telling the world she was HIV positive. Sure, she didn't mind having HIV that much as long as she was still alive. She hadn't lived her life without the disease. She didn't know any other lifestyle. But she didn't like other people knowing sometimes. HIV wasn't the best conversation starter.

Which is why she never wore bracelet unless necessary, like today.

She and her brother had to get security to let them get to the gate to bid their dad farewell somehow. They weren't passengers. They weren't supposed to be able to go through security check. Security always caved for the Medical Alert bracelet.

Lolita's pouting also helped.

Actually, her pouting was probably the sole reason they got through.

"You're too hyper for people to believe a bracelet," Dante stated.

"Delirious, Dante. That's the right word for what I am," Lolita corrected.

"Either way, you don't come across as sick."

"Just because I have HIV doesn't mean I'm sick all the time."

"Oh, yeah? What doesn't hurt on you right now?"

"My lungs," Lolita returned, taking a deep breath for emphasis. A cramp ran through her chest as her lungs increased with air, forcing her to stop the action. "Never mind."

"Exactly."

"They don't normally hurt. It's just too early for them to be functioning properly."

Dante sighed. That wasn't the case, and she knew that wasn't the case. Lolita would tell him that to make him calm down. She didn't like people to worry over her, especially him. Fans were more important. That's what she always told him. His fans had far more affect on his life than she did. They controlled his career, not her. He should be worried about them.

She didn't seem to realize that her being sick, and getting sicker, devastated him.

"Well, we should get you home to sleep so that your lungs continue to function," Dante said.

"We should," Lolita nodded.

"Want a piggy back ride?"

"I'd love one."

The sparkle in Lolita's eyes made Dante laugh. He turned around, crouching slightly for her to hop onto his back, which she did. Her weight didn't cause him to grunt or struggle. Not because he was used to carrying her on his back. Piggy back rides were few and far between. She just needed to gain more weight.

"Let's blow this popsicle stand, love," Dante said, beginning to make his way through the airport, sister on his back.

"I want a popsicle."

"How about we make our own with juice today?"

"Yeah," Lolita exclaimed.

He'd make sure they were the best popsicles she ever had.