By Ellen Schwartz
Brendan has it all-captain of the basketball crew, solid pals, a stunning female friend and a loving family—until he's clinically determined with leukemia. Terrified and confident that not anyone is aware what he's going via, Brendan faces chemotherapy by myself, till he meets Lark. She is usually in therapy, even though her situation is way worse, and but she is still optimistic and hopeful. Brendan is torn among feeling sorry for himself and the affection for all times that Lark brings to even the best factor. via Lark, he discovers the energy to head on, to struggle for survival and to like.
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I storm out of the room, ignoring the shocked faces that stare at me as I pass. Chapter Three There’s a knock on my bedroom door. I quickly shove the sheaf of papers under my pillow. I’ve swiped one of Mom’s information packages and have been reading up on the crazy, out-of-control cancer cells in my blood and bone marrow, and how they’re wiping out my healthy cells. ” I call. Only my voice is so hoarse that it’s a croak. I try again. ” Kesh sticks his head around the door. I love this guy, all six-foot-four skinny brown beanpole of him.
That doesn’t make me feel less like a jerk. Still, I feel the groove. Okay, one more song, I tell myself. Then I’m out of here. The song changes. This one’s slower, moodier. “Mama may have…Papa may have… But God bless the child who’s got his own…who’s got his own…” I close my eyes. Hear the pain in Billie’s voice, but something more, underneath. Joy. Strength. As if to say, Life’s a bitch, so what else can you do but sing? My breathing slows. I feel my weight sink into the floor, my cheek pressing against the bedspread.
A little bitter. A little sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted chocolate like this, really tasted it. It’s like being stoned, only without the drugs. I grin at Lark. ” She feeds me a taste of vanilla. I close my eyes and taste the utter creaminess of it. The sweet, smooth milkiness of it. I try butterscotch. It’s caramely. Sweet. Almost burned-tasting. I’m trying to find the words. Then it comes to me. ” Lark stares at me. Tears come into her eyes. She leans over and kisses me on the cheek. I don’t know what I did to deserve that, but whatever it was, I’m glad I did it.
Cellular by Ellen Schwartz