To Be Happy Now

The flight home was very quiet. Neither of them spoke to each other unless it was to ask for something, like to pass the napkins or their iPod or something completely insignificant.

Alaska felt so foolish. She didn't think anything could become worse, but she had to say those three words, eight letters. Austin completely ignored the fact that she said it, and it was a blow right to her heart that he didn't feel the same way back.

Ricky met them in the airport.

"Hey!" he grinned, hugging his sister. "How was it?"

"Fun," Alaska said.

"Great," Austin answered, curtly.

They drove home and Alaska partially hoped that Austin would get into his truck and drive home, because she didn't want to see him and have him think about what she said to him. She just wanted to dwell on it by herself. Unfortunately, Ricky invited Austin for a drink so they could talk about the trip, and while Alaska changed to go to chemotherapy, the two of them sat in the living room and talked.

"She loved it," she heard Austin say.

"Yeah, I'll bet. She's been wanting to go to New York since she first started watching Friends," Ricky said chuckling. "Hey, Alaska, are you goin' to chemo?" he asked, when she left her bedroom, ready to go.

She nodded her head.

Austin set his beer down and stood up.

"I'll come–"

"No," Alaska said, firmly.

Austin looked shocked, but Alaska didn't say any more. She gave Ricky a kiss on the cheek and left. She drove, blasting the radio, hoping that her friends at chemo would make her happier. She knew that she really couldn't be mad at Austin for not saying it back to her, but she just felt angry.

When she got there, the nurse led her into the room. She was ready to splurge all her feelings onto her friends and get some feedback on them. She entered the room, opening her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Jessika and Irena were the only two people in there and the nurse hooked her up before she really noticed that someone was missing.

"Hey, where's Max?" Alaska asked. "I really need to talk him, because he's the only person who knows how to deal with the stuff I'm going through right now."

She heard Jessika sniffle next to her and she glanced at her.

"Jess?"

She looked at Irena. She, too, looked sad.

"What's going on?" Alaska asked, jumping to conclusions. Her heart started to beat faster as she prayed that her mind was only fooling her.

Irena took a breath. "Max passed away over the weekend."

Alaska froze. She felt her lungs constrict and she started pull on the tubes, feeling suffocated. Max was dead. He was gone.

"Alaska," the nurse said, calmly, trying to stop her.

"No! I can't–" Alaska exclaimed She pulled them out and ran out. She heard the nurse and Irena and Jessika call after her the tears were streaming down her face. She pushed past everyone walking towards her and she ran into her car, jamming the key into the ignition and driving away. She knew she would get into a lot of trouble, but she didn't care. It was dawning on her just how bad the situation was.

Max, the one person who knew how to make her feel better, was no longer able to do that.

She drove to the cemetery and stopped the car. She cried and screamed and hit the steering wheel so hard, she bruised her hands. She got phone calls from Ricky and Austin–they probably got a call from the hospital, explaining what happened. Austin, especially, was calling every two seconds.

Thinking about him made her cry even harder. What happened when they first met when she was thirteen, what happened when he left Arizona, what happened when he came back, what happened when he did everything he could to ask her out, what happened when he found out about the cancer, what happened when they went to New York...

Alaska turned off her phone and she got out of the car. Tears were still streaming down her face, but she walked over to the tombstone and sat down in front of it. She stared at the letters for a long time before she finally spoke.

"Why did you have to die, Kat?" she shook her head. "Austin would still probably be with you and he'd be happy and I wouldn't feel like this. I wouldn't feel like suck fucking shit. God, I am dying. I know I am. I can fucking feel it. I don't feel like a nineteen year old. I feel like I'm eighty and I'm on the edge of death. You weren't supposed to die, Kat. That's me–I'm supposed to die. Max shouldn't have died either," Alaska cried harder. "You two both should be alive right now, making a different, like you were supposed to..."

Alaska closed her eyes. It was silent all around her–all she could hear was the wind. She probably stayed like that for hours. She could feel the sun blistering down on her neck, but she didn't move an inch. She cried about Kat. She cried about Max. She cried about Ricky and her family. She cried about Hayley. She cried about Austin.

She heard a car stop nearby. She knew it probably either Austin or Ricky, trying to look for her, but she didn't want to move. She just wanted to stay rooted to spot and deteriorate naturally, just like Max.

"Alaska!" someone grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. It was her father–Ricky must've told him what happened. He breathed in relief and pulled her into his chest. Alaska broke again and she sobbed, staining his shirt.

"Shh," he soothed. "It's okay, Alaska, it's okay..."

Alaska shook her head and cried even harder than she had all day. When Alaska's tears finally stopped, at least for now, he said,

"Come on. We can leave your car here and I can drive you home, okay?"

"I want to go home, not Ricky's apartment," Alaska mumbled.

Her father nodded his head and hoisted her up and helped her to his car. The entire drive back to her parent's house, Alaska couldn't stop thinking. The tears have finally stopped, but Max kept appearing in her mind. How could someone as lively and optimistic like Max die just like that? He was supposed to live forever. He wasn't even that old, only fifty-five.

Alaska's mother was waiting when they got home. Her dad sent texts to both her and Ricky telling them that Alaska was okay. Her mother prepared hot chocolate on her bedside table for her. Alaska kissed her mother on the cheek and laid down in her bed.

She couldn't sleep. She turned her phone on and saw she had a million missed calls, text messages, and voicemails from Ricky, Austin, and Hayley mostly. She deleted all of them, not even bothering to look, except for the last voicemail that Austin left.

She pressed the phone to her ear and listened.

"Alaska, I'm trying not to freak out because I don't know where you are and I know that, especially with what happened in New York, you aren't my biggest fan, but come home, please. I'm worried about you and I knew Max, too. He was a great fucking guy. He lived a great life and he's not suffering anymore–he's not suffering, Alaska. Please, please come home. I need–" Alaska turned her phone off and threw it on the floor. She hated when people told her that everything was going to be alright. It wasn't going to be alright.

Nothing would ever be alright again.