He'll Be the Death of Me, I Swear

I stumbled into the kitchen with sleepy eyes as I always started the slow mornings. Nothing seemed to happen fast enough. Well, I suppose there were some things I preferred to go slow: like my mother's impending death.

My mother was all I had left in this world and of course she just had to be dying. My father died of alcohol poisoning long ago and my younger sister had been stillborn. The experience was so traumatizing for my poor mom that she never tried to have a child again. My mother's hourglass was quickly emptying as I tried desperately to flip that glass to keep her time running, though there was nothing I could do to cure her cancer. She had but a few months to live after all.

The doctor's estimate was three to six months, which was certainly not enough time for either of us to cope with this. I was no problem to this situation as I would be through with high school at the end of the year and I would be of legal age to live on my own in just two weeks or so, but I still didn't want to lose her. The only family I had other than her lived in California and they were rich snobs. My aunt was a successful actress and her husband was a mall complex owner. They had never gotten around to having children and I had always considered that a blessing since their child would've been a spoiled rotten brat that no one would want to put up with.

The other kids at school were all as supportive as possible. The other senior students told me of miracles, though I knew no miracle could save my poor mother. I always thanked them for their insight, but it was a wasted effort on their behalf. Besides, they were only being nice because of my mom dying and all. They probably wished it was me in her place! The doctor didn't sugarcoat it at all and I heard every word he spoke to my mother about her condition: stage four cancer meant there was nothing more they could do for her. The tumors on her liver and lungs would never leave and would take their toll on her until death did they part. So in that sense, marriage is kind of like a set of tumors.

Forgive the dark humor.

I sullenly watched my mother from the doorway as she went through her morning routine humming a soft tune. How she could be so happy and serene when her inevitable death was lurking around the corner, I didn't know.

"Hun, can you do me a favor?" she asked as she washed a dish, knowing I was watching her like always. She hated me worrying so much, but how could I not?

"Naturally," I told her. "What is it you need?"

"I just need you to stop at the store and buy me a few things. After school of course." She looked over the clean bowl and scrubbed furiously at an embedded stain.

"What things?" I stepped into the kitchen and sat down at the table to read the front page of the newspaper.

"Oh, just some milk, eggs, sugar, butter, vanilla extract, flour, baking soda, and frosting. Don't worry, I'll write it down for you."

"What exactly do you need these things for?" I asked with suspicion. Those ingredients sounded awfully familiar.

"Oh, be a doll and mind your own business ," she suggested, handing me a piece of paper with a recipe on it.

"No, mom. You don't need to do that. I don't want a cake," I said sternly, placing the recipe for a white cake on the table.

"Who said it's for you? Maybe I want some cake," she said slyly with a smirk on her face. It made it hard to believe she was dying.

"It's the exact same cake you've made for my birthday every year. And you only eat cake on occasion, remember?"

"Sure, sure. Get me that stuff on your way home. Don't disappoint me." I groaned as she used the guilt trip. It worked every time and she knew it. I sighed and read the bold headline on the cover page. It wasn't about our little town, so I didn't pretend to care before I sat it down on the other side of the table.

"Be careful," I begged, kissing her cheek. "I'll be back after I go to the store." I winced and she smiled knowing full well that she had won.

"Alright, darling. Be safe," she begged absentmindedly as she walked into the living room to clean a room that was already spotless. I headed out to my black Mercedes and drove to my school, which was but a few blocks away.

I parked in the student parking lot and slammed the door, trudging into the school building. I was so unbelievably tired that morning and I had no clue why. Don't get me wrong: I'm not a morning person, but normally I was a bit more energized than that. I dragged my feet through the school, tripping numerous times before I finally managed to get past the crowd of students loitering in the halls and to my locker.

"So...Your birthday is coming up and I have got the perfect gift for you!" Michelle—one of my longtime friends—told me, waiting for me to get my things for the first half of the day. I shoved all of my books into my bag and turned to her.

"I'm not having a birthday this year. I figure I'll stay seventeen forever and never get old and...old." I shivered. Old people made me so nervous that it wasn't even funny.

"Oh, come now, Dani. You can't skip your birthday. Besides, I bought it already and they don't accept returns, receipt or no receipt. Oh, too bad for you, huh?" I shook my head, sighing.

"It's just another year of my life passing away." I cringed at my own words. A year wasn't the only thing passing away...

"Calm down, Miss Melodramatic. Besides, it's fun being eighteen!"

Michelle was already eighteen and loved every minute of it. She thought she was so mature and amazing since she was legally able to leave home (and she planned on doing just that when she graduated). She had a scholarship to Harvard because she was the perfect sprinter. As for me, well, sports weren't really my thing. They required too much coordination and I lacked that. She also had a stable relationship with the boy she'd been dating ever since eighth grade. He was waiting on her to move in with him. I envied her a lot, but that life wasn't really my thing. After all, it might be good for her, but I just wanted to go where life took me, quite honestly. She was always more detailed and descriptive than me, so it made sense that she had this so planned out and yet the blueprint of my life looked like I had let a toddler doodle it for me.

"Sure, it is. I don't think I'm going to enjoy it so much." Without my mother, that is.

"Plus, soon after that is the New Year!" She mimicked the sound of fireworks. I didn't have the heart to tell her they didn't really sound like "Boom!".

"Joy-oh-joy," I said sarcastically, slamming my locker shut and starting the walk to first period. A new year was not welcomed by me for it would be engraved on my mother's tombstone. That's a lovely thought, isn't it?

"Oh, come now, Danielle. You're being so depressing. Stop it!" She had a huge smile on her face and I could tell it wasn't forced and fake like all of mine were.

"I do apologize," I said dryly. I heard my name being called and turned around to see a boy bounding up to me, his hair bouncing like mad. "Hey, Jacob!"

He skidded to a halt in front of me with a broad smile and said, "Hey, Daniel!"

I groaned, smiling despite myself. My grin only broadened as we talked.

"I told you I'm not a boy despite your strong belief otherwise. What's up, Jack?" I asked, using the pet name I'd made for him.

"Can't I walk with you guys without something being up?" he asked with one eyebrow raised curiously.

"You're smiling more than usual and that grin of yours doesn't look like it could be ripped from your face." He smiled even bigger and nodded.

"Well, I went moshing last night. It was killer! I called you, but you didn't pick up. The call went straight to your damned voice-mail. I wanted to see if you'd go with me, but oh well." I felt guilty. I had known that he had tickets and had assumed he would want me to go...

"Sorry. I was helping my mother around that house. She worries me. She cleans everyday and the house is never dirty. I think she just wants to be useful before she's, well, gone." I looked at my feet as they carried me down the hall. Jacob nodded sullenly, knowing I was upset.

"I'll always be here for you, I promise," he whispered in my ear softly. He hugged me tightly and I nodded, hugging back. "Even if you don't need me, I'll wait." I knew what he was talking about.

"I just have too much going on right now. I swear that's it, Jake." Don't get me wrong: I loved the guy, but I didn't want him or anyone else to have to put up with me. He smiled slightly and I could tell that it hadn't helped him at all. He let go and grabbed my hand, swinging our entwined fingers back and forth as we walked.

"I understand, but I just wished you'd give me a chance. You know I wouldn’t ask for your time: just whatever you can spare..." This wasn't a conversation I wanted to be having and my smile had completely faded by now. His torture was like my torture and I'm not a masochist.

"Jacob... I can't. Not right now. When things fall into place, you'll be the first to know." He looked down at his feet. That was the answer I always gave the poor guy.

"Okay. I'm going to be late for class, so I'll see you later." He kissed my cheek before walking in the opposite direction. Michelle gave me a soft, sad glance, but left me alone as we walked to class together. I just had no time in my life for romance. I hardly had the time for friends, let alone anything more.

We walked to class silently and, naturally, everyone stared at us. My best friend scoffed and I followed her quietly. I was the leader of our clique, but it wouldn't seem that way to others. I sat down where I pleased and Michelle sat behind me and beside her boyfriend, Bryan. I tried to stay away from him because he scared me a lot. The gauges in his ears were way too big and his face was covered in hundreds of rings and studs. He was a nice guy to Michelle, but something about him told me to let him be—let them be.

I glanced to my right and nearly had a heart attack: someone had slipped into the seat without me knowing. I clutched my throat to close my airways and keep myself from screaming. He turned to face me and half-smirked for a second at my reaction. I smiled despite myself and turned to him, admiration in my eyes, I'm sure.

"I'm Danica-Marie," I told him, staring him in the eyes—err, eye, considering his hair covered one eye. It was a bit difficult and disorienting for some reason, but I managed. A smile tugged at his snake bite-pierced lips and I smirked.

"Landyn-James," he said swiftly, quickly, with no particular emotion. He kept my gaze, looking at me expectantly. I smiled softly, a bit nervous. "Excuse me." He stood and strode up to the teacher, exchanging a few words with him before stalking out of the room. I raised my hand.

"May I use the restroom?" I heard myself ask. Now why was I doing that exactly? My bladder was absolutely fine! He nodded and I walked briskly to the hall. "Landyn?" I called softly.

"Danica-Marie," he bid me from the wall he was leaning on.

"Danica," I corrected, walking to him. Knowing my luck, as I caught his eye, I lost my place and my footwork failed me as I clattered to the floor, hitting my head on the wall.

So this is what a concussion feels like?