Forelsket.

Two days later, I found myself in the car, riding along with my Grandfather, Lindsay and my mother to the doctors. Lindsays arms were crossed, her lips set into a pout and her eyes gazing out of the window. I think she was really trying now that she’s older – to get Grandpa to treat her the way he’s treated me. She always hated that I was a ‘favorite’ and, I think she’s trying really hard – and okay, she’s just being there for him, sitting with him and spending time with him. She’s scared because Grandpa is quite old and we don’t know how long his body will manage with the Cancer circling it.

The car was quiet, the windows rolled down. Every so often, Lindsay would huff and move her hair out of her face. She was sitting on Grandpa’s side, and, although I knew more than anything that she wanted to tell him to shut the window, she kept her mouth shut and eventually just kept her hand on her hair to keep it from flailing.

When I looked at the mirror between the two front seats, I managed to see the look on my mothers face – scared, sad, worried. And even I was worried – I had taken it upon myself to research Stage Four Lung Cancer when I found out that was what Grandfather had. It isn’t curable, and the average life expectancy is eight months – not very long and can vary depending on a bunch of other things. I’m not sure Lindsay quite knew what Grandfather was up against, but I’m not sure she wanted to. Even I didn’t know more than what I’d researched – knew no details about Grandpa’s case. In complete honesty, I didn’t want to know more than I already had.

Every couple of minutes, I turned to look at Grandfather and every time he let out one of those coughs, Lindsay would sit up immediately and rub his back. Mother would glance over at him, her brows knotted together with worry. I only gnawed on my lip and turned my attention away from him – I’d look out the window, my lap, my inactive cell phone – anything. His cough made me cringe, and by the time we got to the hospital, it had wormed its way inside my brain and echoed there.

Lindsay had nearly flung herself out of the car in order to open Grandpas door and help him out – he didn’t walk completely right now, and it was a wonder that he even walked at all. Lindsay looped her arm with his to help him remain steady, and I walked closer to mom, biting my lip and staring at the ground. I felt his hand reach out to me, and I, instinctively, pulled my arm away before he could reach it.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, and, for the sake of not drawing attention to myself, I let him hold my arm with his, my skin crawling. Every damn inch of it, crawling. I feel my fingers begin to shake slightly. I barely heard as my Grandpa began to talk about how happy he was that he had Lindsay and I there – how lucky he was to have people like us. Lindsay smiled at him, I could hear it in her voice as she responded with how we were the lucky ones.

Mother was ahead of us, walking fast and stiff – something she had always done when she was nervous.

As soon as we entered the hospital, Mom and Lindsay went with Grandpa to the counter, while I managed to slip away and take a seat on one of the plastic chairs in the waiting room. I placed my hands in my lap and watched as they talked to the receptionist. And, even from where I was sitting, I could hear Grandpa’s hacking cough, to which the receptionist gave him a mask for. I almost chuckled. He hated those.

A minute later, they shuffled their way over to me, Grandpa sitting to my right, mom on my left – Lindsay on the other side of Grandpa. She had never let his arm go since he got out of the car, and she looked genuinely worried sick, and I didn’t know how they saw me. I didn’t know if I looked worried or relieved. My emotions were so mixed, that I had probably come out looking blank. Uncaring.

Each of us remained quiet, letting our ears filled with the sounds of the sick. And, while waiting for his turn with the specialist, his hand makes its way over to my leg, pats it.

“It’s okay, Peanut.” He patted my leg, slowly creeping his hand up toward my hip, under my shirt. Up, up, up.

I snapped my head up when he grabbed my hand and held it. His eyes looked like they did all those nights – the eyes that didn’t belong to the Grandfather that I knew before everything began to happen. I swallowed a lump in my throat, looking over to Lindsay to see that she was resting her head on his shoulder.

No one noticed how his hand was holding mine awfully close to a part of me that he had perverted times before. My entire body heated out of nervousness. He held my hand tightly, I looked at the floor, catching my lip between my teeth to distract me.

When we had gotten home, it was well into the afternoon, Mother called Dad to talk about Grandpa, who was progressing pretty quickly, from what I heard. And they wanted to start him on Chemo, but even that might not be effective. Lindsay hadn’t left his side, Mom was cooking her worries away in the kitchen, and I was up in my room, curled up on my bed, watching Aladdin.

My Mom always used to make fun of me, because I would imitate the bird that jumped in during the middle of ‘A Whole New World’ to chirp loudly. It made her laugh a lot when I was younger, and sometimes she still brought it up in those ‘remember when…’ conversations that occur on rare occasions. For years now, I hadn’t had the heart to sing along to the songs in any of my favorite Disney movies. It sounded stupid, when I thought about it.

I felt my phone vibrate somewhere on my bed. I had a bad habit of losing my phone in the heap of fabric that was my comforter. I rustled my blanket around until my phone was in view, and grabbed it. I knew it was Jared – I couldn’t imagine anyone else texting me. No one did, really. I still kept phone numbers of old friends, though. I supposed a part of me wished that they’d text me one day.

Bring pajamas tomorrow and a change of clothes.

My first thought was, no. I didn’t want to spend an entire night with a bunch of people I didn’t know, in a house with no supervision. So, I had just about texted him back when I decided I’d rather be there with them, than here, with Grandpa. That sounded completely horrible to say – I was his grand-daughter, and he was dying, for Christ sake. But I still texted back a simple, one worded answer ‘okay’, and then dropped my phone onto my bed, sinking into my covers and somehow comforted in the thought of a night away from Grandpa.

When I had settled back into my bed, Lindsay knocked on my door once before opening it. I knew it was her, because she was the only one who even bothered to knock sometimes. So I looked at her, and she actually gave me a small smile.

“God, I remember this,” She chuckled, “we loved this movie.”

“Love,” I corrected, a small smile falling to my lips. I scrunched my legs up as she walked over to the bed, staring at the t.v, and sat herself on the end of my bed. These times were rare now – Lindsay was quite bitter toward me a lot of the time, even if she didn’t mean to be. She seemed to carry that jealousy from childhood, until this very day. I wasn’t sure what to think of it, but I didn’t blame her. If she’d been favored by everyone and Grandpa, I’d probably be jealous of her too.

So we sat there for a few minutes, like real sisters, watching our favorite childhood movie.

“So.” She turned away from the television – the part where Aladdin was tied to a ball and chain and thrown into the water was playing. Neither of us had liked that part – even though we knew he would be saved, we hated to watch it. “About tomorrow – you’re coming? It’d be nice to get away from all the shit here.” She gave out a sigh, and I nodded.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, “Apparently Jared turned into a sleepover. He’s such a girl.” Lindsay laughed, shook her head.

“We’re supposed to go out for breakfast the next day,” She shrugged, “Jared – or one of them – do this once in a while.” I hadn’t recalled a single time this had happened, but then, I probably wasn’t invited then. And what made the situation so different now? And didn’t they get sick of each other? Being in a band and then having sleepovers? I bit on my lip and Lindsay said, “Don’t worry, it’s a good time.”

And I nodded, and we sat together, on my bed watching Aladdin.

I felt like I’d gained my childhood back, for the hour the movie lasted.

Lindsay and I shared a bag to bring stuff in – I had told her earlier that I wasn’t sure if I would be staying. She rolled her eyes and told me to ‘live a little’. I didn’t really know how to go about living, or what the definition of it was, exactly. I figured, as long as I’m breathing, I’m living. So I decided to ignore Lindsay, and in the back of my mind, I already knew I’d go home anyways.

We were sitting on the couch in the living room, listening to the t.v and Grandpa’s cough. Lindsay was sitting next to him, a small frown on her face. She watched him sometimes, and it only seemed to make her more worried. She seemed to be counting down the seconds until Tim got here – she would look at her phone every so often to see if she missed a text or call, even though her phone was on vibrate.

I sat awkwardly, dressed in skinny jeans from this morning, and a simple, loose black v-neck. I watched my Father, who was sat in his recliner, concentrating real hard on the news, and at my Mother was was laying in the two-seat-er leather couch with a crossword book on her lap.

The sound of Lindsays phone vibrating had gotten lost in one of Grandpas infamous cough. Lindsay didn’t miss it, though. She perked up and pressed the answer button.

“Hello?” She paused, smiled. “Okay, be right out.” She turned to me, a large smile on her face, and nearly hopped out of her seat beside Grandpa.

“We’re leaving now,” She announced, “If you need us, call. Bye, Gramps.” She leaned down, placed a kiss on his cheek and gave him a tight hug. I bit my lip and got up myself, turning away from Grandpa and walking around the couch. Our family barely stirred as we walked to the front door, Lindsay nearly running out with a large smile plastered onto her face, while I lingered behind, collecting the bag and making sure we weren’t missing anything.

I called out a faint ‘bye’ to my family, receiving nothing in return. I turned, closed the door behind me and faced the ugly, black car in my drive way. It looked old – like a hand-me-down. One of those cars parents save from ‘their days’ for their kids. Upon walking up to the car, I glanced at the drivers side to see Tim, I supposed, and he said something, and he was smiling and Lindsay was smiling.

I probably ruined the mood by yanking the back door open and throwing our duffel bag on the other side of the seat.

“Hey,” Tim smiled once I closed the door, “Annaliese, right?” I nodded. “Tim.” After he said it, I almost expected him to hold out his hand for me to shake, but he hadn’t. So I smiled at him and nodded. He turned back toward the steering wheel and backed out of our driveway.

I barely listened as they talked about the people who would be there, or their predictions on how the night would go.