His Deepest Secret

It was later on in the day, when Charlotte was at home because her father and mother wanted to go out and do something as a family. Anderson was at home, playing Modern Warfare on his Xbox live.

He felt happier today than he has in a while. Hopefully, this chemotherapy treatment would help his body more than the last one did. He already took two naps today, and was waiting for the nausea to hit him. So far, it hasn't. He was only extremely exhausted.

Just as Anderson was aiming at an opponent to shoot at, his soldier was shot in the back.

"NOOOOO! I just needed ONE more freaking kill!"

He sighed and picked up his phone to see if Charlotte had texted him.

2 New Text Messages

From: Charlotte
Hiiiii. Feeling better rested babe?(:

Anderson texted back, "Yes, for now at least. I'm resisting sleep cause I'm tired of doing nothing but lay in bed. What are you up to?(:

Anderson then went back into his message box to see who the other text was from.

From: Neal
Hey man! Where have you been? Rumors are spreading around, and people here are saying that you have cancer and that you're dating some ugly, stupid loner chick. What the hell happened to ya?

The first feeling that went through Anderson was anger.
Some ugly, stupid loner chick?!

He didn't even bother texting back. He clicked "Call".

"Heyyyy!" Neal happily said.

"Some ugly, stupid loner chick?!" he said into his phone, not bothering to say hello or sound happy, because he was pissed.

"Yeah bro! That's what they're saying, but I keep telling them, 'Nah! Anderson wouldn't date a loser! Plus he hasn't dated a chick once since he's been here.'"

"You're fucking wrong, Neal. And if you call her a loser again, I will deck you in the face next time I see you."

"Whoa, bro! I apologize man! I'm just saying what everyone else has been saying. I don't know the tru-"

"Exactly. You don't know the truth. So stop saying that shit. I'm dating a beautiful, amazing girl, and not one of the slutty cheerleaders," Anderson replied.

"Alright man. I'm sorry," Neal said earnestly.

Anderson could tell his friend was being sincere. He was the only jock who actually had brains and was reasonable, which was why he was his best friend.

"It's cool."

"So where have you been?"

Crap.

"Home, why?"

"There's another rumor going around. Is it true that you uhm. . . have cancer?" Neal asked. His voice went down to a whisper on the last part of his question.

Anderson hesitated. How the hell would people know? He has just been staying at home, for all people know. And his plan was to not tell anyone. So that excludes his best friend, right?

"Helloooo?" Neal asked.

"Oh, sorry. Was uhm, doing something," Anderson lied.

"Well, someone said they saw you at the hospital, and overheard a doctor talking to you and a girl, who I'm presuming is your girlfriend?" Neal explained.

"Oh. . ."

"Buddy. . . if it's true, you can tell me. You know I'm good with keeping secrets," he told Anderson.

"Yeah. . . I have cancer."

This conversation was tiring Anderson out.

Neal took a deep breath in, held it, then let it out. Anderson could only picture his best friend rubbing the side of his temple in an attempt to calm himself down.

"Are you doing okay?"

"The honest truth? I don't know," Anderson answered.

"Hey, maybe I can come over during the week?" he asked, trying to change the subject. He was upset, sad, sympathetic, and simply confused. "We can play some video games. Haven't done that in forever."

"Yeah. Just hit me up."

"Hey Anderson?"

"Huh?"

"I'm happy for you, that you, you know, have a girlfriend."

"Thanks man."

"Alright, talk to ya later," Neal said.

"Bye."

After hearing about all these rumors, telling his best friend his secret, and feeling mixed emotions, he was exhausted.

Nap time. . . again.

- - -

Puked.

Puked two hours ago.
Puked one hour ago.
Puked 30 minutes ago.

Couldn't keep any food in his stomach.
Was chugging water left and right.

Charlotte wasn't getting many texts and she figured he was sleeping again.

He was throwing up all the contents of his body.

Anderson sat there, clutching his aching, empty stomach, amd leaning against the toilet.

Why even bother walking back to the bed? On the floor by the toilet was unfortunately fine.

Pain
Emptiness
Tiredness
More vomit.

Two words:

"Fuck chemotherapy."

Anderson felt vomit rising once again.
He lifted the toilet seat.
Out came puke.

Tears began rolling down his pale cheeks.
Everything is not okay.