His Deepest Secret

He knew she knew.

His heart raced. Hers dropped.

"Wh-wh-wh-" Charlotte couldn't speak. Her voice was just above a murmur, but all it could get out was a stutter.

"Don't," he told her.

Finally Charlotte got her voice. She pulled into his driveway, turned off the car, and looked at him. "Don't what?"

"Don't ask me about it."

"Why?"

"Just. Don't."

"Youhavecancerdon'tyou?!" she asked so fast, Anderson did not have time to stop her.

Anderson stepped out of the car and walked up his drive way where his mom was waiting impatiently.

Charlotte drove away with tears streaming down her face. She was feeling immense guilt for how she judged and treated Anderson, yet she felt anger flaring up inside of her.

He had cancer, and he didn't tell anyone. She had guilt and anger resulting from her actions she could have prevented if she had only known. If.

She pulled into her parking space, got out, and went inside of her house. She desperately needed sleep. She was exhausted emotionally and physically. Slowly, she dragged herself up the stairs, to her bedroom, and under the protective covers that kept her warm at night. As she was ready to let sleep overtake her, thoughts began slowly drifting into her mind. They began to torment her, making her remember the day's earlier events and every other time she had seen and/or talked to Anderson. She felt extremely sad, angry, upset, and guilty. Anderson must be sleeping peacefully right now, and Charlotte couldn't fall asleep, not even for one minute.

Hours passed.

The darkness slowly crept away.

The sun began rising.

Charlotte's eyes finally started closing.

"Charlotte, hunny. It's time to wake up," Charlotte's mother told her, gently shaking her.

Charlotte stirred awake and looked up at her mother with bloodshot eyes. "I don't feel so well," she lied.

Her mother pushed the covers up over Charlotte's shoulders, turned off her alarm clock, and left the room. Charlotte was out before her mother had even closed the door.

---

Buzzzzzzzz.

Charlotte stirred a little in her sleep.

"Hmmm."

Buzzzzzzzz.

"Huh?" Charlotte pushed herself up a little, confused as to what was vibrating. She looked to her right and saw her alarm clock saying that it was three in the afternoon. Beside her alarm clock, she saw her phone alerting her that she had new text messages.

"Hmphh," she groaned, picking up her phone with one hand, and wiping her eyes with the other.

From Sullivan:

Heey! I was looking for you at school today to talk to you. Couldn't find your beautiful brown hair anywhere!

"Wha-?" She was confused; her brain was still muddy and waking up.

Slowly, she began typing a response.

I don't feel well.): What did you want to talk to me about?

She looked through her inbox for the other message she received.

From: Anderson

I'm stopping by today at five to get my truck back.

A little bit of anger rose up inside of her.

idc., she responded.

She sat up fully and looked outside her window. Leaves were beginning to fall now that their green color transformed to the usual autumn colors.

She walked out of her bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen.

"Hey hunny," her dad said from the dining room table.

"Hi Dad. You have the day off today?" She was a bit surprised. Usually he had the weekends off, not any of the weekdays.

"Yep. Feeling better?"

Charlotte shrugged. "I think so. All I know is that I am starving, Anderson wants to pick up his truck today, and I have a lot of homework to make up."

"Ahhh. How are you and that kid getting along?"

Charlotte reached for the cereal bag and began making herself a bowl. "Uhmm. . ."

"Not good, I'm presuming?" He took a sip of his coffee.

"Not good at all. I still hate him. He still hates me. And he. . ." She stopped mid-sentence, feeling a little sad now that she was thinking about it now. She cleared her throat when she realized that her dad was looking at her, waiting for her to continue what she was saying. "He has cancer. . . I found out last night."

Her dad looked at her with a shocked expression. "That boy has cancer? How did you find out?"

"He had a dangerously high fever when he came over to work on our project and so I took him to the hospital. Well, his doctor said something about Anderson having to fight something, and well. . . It just clicked when I was driving him back home."

"Did he say if he caught it early, what kind it was, or anything?" he asked.

"Nope!"

Buzzzzzzzz.

Charlotte looked down at her phone.

From: Anderson

Glad you don't. Don't stop being uncaring.(:

Are you high or something? she texted back.

"That must suck for him, poor kid." Her father shook his head. "I couldn't imagine what his parents must feel like."

"Yeah. . ." She sat down beside her father, putting her bowl and phone down on the table.

"Lucky Charms, eh?" Her dad flashed a smile at her.

Charlotte's father was like her best friend. They talked about everything and always spent time together. Charlotte and her mother were close, but Charlotte was a tomboy and her mother was extremely girly.

Buzzzzzzzz.

I don't want you to pity me, so keep being a bitch.** <-- That's what I meant to say. :D

Charlotte's fingers flew across her phone's touch screen.

Why would I pity you? You're a fucking asshole who apparently likes to keep it a secret that he has cancer. I finally figured out why you never date anybody. It's cause you don't want to hurt a girl if you end up not beating the cancer, am I correct?

She sent it. Immediately afterwards, she knew she should not have sent that text.

"Anyway, I am going to go run some errands and stuff, so I will see you later, kiddo," her dad said as he stood up, kissed the top of her head, and walked out of the room.

"Love ya dad," Charlotte yelled back to him with a mouth full of Lucky Charms.

---

The doorbell rang. Charlotte sighed. Anderson stood outside impatiently.

It rang again.

Charlotte walked down the stairs and opened the front door.

"You only had to ring it once," Charlotte told him. She dropped his lanyard with his keys attached to it in his hand.

Anderson stood stiffly, staring straight into her eyes for a brief moment. "Look, let's get this fucking project over with. I'm so done putting up with your shit, Charlotte."

Charlotte searched his eyes for some kind of emotion because his face gave no sign of one. "What is your problem with me?"

He scoffed. "Myproblem with you? What do you think, kid?"

"Don't call me kid," she said with a quiet voice.

"You are the most judgemental bitch I have ever met. If you were like most people, I would be able to tolerate you, if even that."

"I don't feel bad for you whatsoever. You have treated me like shit all throughout high school. If I was like most people, I would be like you, and why the hell would I?" She felt the inside of her chest burning.

"I treated you like shit because I knew you judged me and talked about me. Word goes around the school. When people talked badly about you, I didn't feel bad whatsoever because you talked badly about me."

Charlotte was speechless. He was right. She was wrong.

Anderson did not even give her enough time to reply. He walked off, getting into his truck and leaving.

For the first time ever, she felt like the worst person ever. She never thought of herself as a bad person, but that day, she felt like the worst person alive.

Thing is, Anderson did not even care.