He asked what my favorite movie was(Stand By Me), what music I liked(indie rock), and what kind of books I gravitate toward, though that somehow turned into a debateover the superiority of paperbacks versus hardcovers(I love the sturdiness of hardcovers, while he appreciates the versatility of paperbacks, pure stalemate).
He asked about my family, and when I told him it's just my sister and me, he didn't pry. Instead, he just asked more about her, and I,as always, loved talking about Tess.
I genuinely liked learning about him, too.
Surprisingly, Callum’s favorite movie isThe Princess Bride,and he said it was because it was his favorite movie to watch with his parents on family movie nights. I melted when he talked about how his dad would sometimes tell his mom,"As you wish,"just to make her smile.
I promptly demanded a double-feature movie night, which he easily agreed to.
Callum also shared more about his mom and dad, growing up as their only child, but never truly feeling lonely because of it. He talked about fishing and working with his dad, going to the library with his mom, family meals, and cozy holidays.
When we talked about music, he said he's partial to '70s rock because it's what his mom always played when he was little.
We discovered we both like chocolate over vanilla, burgers over pizza, and winter over summer, Christmas being our favorite holiday.
I've become a little greedy learning about my friend Callum. I want to know it all, and I want him to know everything about me, too.
With his texts keeping me entertained, along with the unhinged group chat from the book club, my days have been passing faster and easier.
Now, at my first chemotherapy appointment, I feel even more optimistic.
The needle in the port was only a slight pinch, done quickly by the efficient hands of Patti, my angel of a nurse. She's older, Isuspect, around Donna's age, with a short grey-blonde pixie cut and immaculately done eyeliner.
Despite the generally quiet, somber mood among the other patients, the energy here feels light and hopeful. Each treatment chair is separated by soft blue curtains for privacy, and I've been reclining like I'm on vacation, served a cocktail ofAdriamycin, Cyclophosphamide, and Paclitaxeldirectly into my port.
The chemo gives me a cold rush that settles beneath my skin, and I'm grateful for the warm blanket Donna gave me and the fluffy socks Tess sent two days ago.
They were a surprise present, of course, but so on-brand for her. A bouquet of fuzzy socks in a variety of styles. Today, I'm wearing the cat ones, and there’s a little gray feline on them that looks like Plot.
I had built chemotherapy up in my head as this terrifying experience. While I know difficult side effects will likely come, ones that willundoubtedlyhumble this early confidence, I'll be ready.
I'm halfway through my jar of overnight oats when my phone lights up with texts. Tonya and Parker are relentless in the group chat, locked in a never-ending emoji-only battle that we're all just lucky enough to witness.
No matter the book, no matter the opinion, one of them takes the opposite stance. I'm still not completely sure whether they actually disagree or just enjoy antagonizing each other. Probably the latter.
At first, I was nervous to join in, afraid that I'd ruin the vibe. Which is insane, because this group of people has been some of the sweetest and most welcoming that I've ever met. I've never made such fast friends before in my life.
I remember lying in bed that first night, scrolling all the way up, studying the emojis like a code to be deciphered, trying to pick out the jokes and inside references. Even Jane, soft-spoken and gentle Jane, chimed in with her own clever string of symbols.
Yesterday, after book club, more nervous than I should have been, I quickly sent a silly combo of emojis that I felt captured my feelings, and then immediately dropped my phone like a teenage girl who just texted her crush.Absolutely ridiculous.
Thirty annoyingly anxiety-filled seconds later, Callum and Tonya had immediatelyheart reactedto my text, which eased my nerves.
Then it just became fun, and almost a game of who could send the most vague symbols in the group and who could decipher them. We weren't exchanging words, but it felt like we had developed our own little language that only we could understand.
Yesterday, during the meeting, we got our new book:Catch Me—a sports romance between a Major League Baseball catcher and the team’s photographer.
Callum presented it with a subtle smile, explaining that each member gets a turn to choose a book for the group. It wasn’t surprising when he added that this pick was from Atticus—especially since the cover models looked suspiciously like Atticus and Jane.
The warm, knowing glances around the room and the deep flush creeping up Atticus’s neck made it clear the choice was intentional. No one said a word to embarrass him, of course, but it was kind of adorable watching this mountain of a man trip over himself around such a gentle, quiet woman. Jane seemed oblivious as she complimented his pick, which made him flush an even more concerning shade of red.
I showed up earlier than last time and discovered that everyone seems to have a designated spot.
Parker is always across from Tonya—prime real estate for their debates. April sandwiched between them, her fingers flyingthrough yarn as she crocheted what looked like a blue hat.
Jane and Atticus always sat next to each other, a little closer than everyone else, whispering a quiet conversation meant only for each other's ears. Bailey, as bubbly as ever, sat in the same spot as last week, right next to me.
And I was, once again, comfortably sandwiched between her and Callum.
