“You want me gone?” she asked, standing from her chair. She looked around the table at the faces watching her, challenging each person as though ready for a duel. Then she looked at me, and I could see the disappointment in her eyes. “Consider me gone.”
Chapter 47
Jayce
It had been two weekssince Macey’s mom had flown home, pissed at all of us for asking her to leave but still angry enough to go away and stay away. I didn’t mind, because Macey didn’t need the extra stress, especially with how things were already going.
She was asleep when I got to the hospital Thursday evening, her pale complexion vividly white against the crisp pillow cover she laid her head on. Next to the bed was a wastebasket, one I knew was specifically for when the nausea was too much to take. A full glass of water also sat on the shelf near her bed, but it hadn’t been touched. She’d lost more hair; not enough for it to really be noticeable to strangers, but it terrified her just the same. I missed the braids, the long, thick one that flowed over her shoulder like a waterfall. She didn’t braid her hair anymore, because the tension on the strands made more of it come out.
Walking quietly, I set her textbooks on the shelf next to the water and sat down in the lounge chair near her bed, focusing on the way Macey’s chest rose and fell with each small breath. She was so small, much smaller than she had been when I’d met her, and it shattered me from the inside out. The cancer was taking her away from me.
“Jayce,” Macey murmured, her eyelids fluttering open to look at me. She groaned with pain as she lifted her arm to reach for the glass of water on the table. I beat her to the punch, grabbing the water and helping her sit up so she could take a sip. She laid back down, panting like she’d just run a marathon.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, and then wanted to kick myself.
“I’m okay,” Macey whispered. “More tired than usual, but I’m okay.”
“Have you eaten?”
“No. I can’t keep anything down.”
“I can have the nurse on shift bring food,” I insisted. “You need to try to keep something down.”
“Jayce, it’s fine.” Macey struggled to sit up, careful not to bump into the needle in her arm, reaching for one of the textbooks I’d brought her. The semester was days from being over, and she was still trying to catch up on all the work she’d fallen behind on this month.
“Do you want to wait to study until after you’ve eaten?” I asked, and then regretted it already when Macey glared at me.
“I will pass this semester, Jayce, come hell or high water.” She ran her hands through her hair, a habit she’d had as long as I knew her, one of annoyance. When she pulled her fingers away, they were laced with thick strands of brown hair. Macey stared at them for a moment too long, and then finally leaned over and dropped the hairs into the trash bin. “I want to shave my head,” she said, not looking at me but looking at the clump of hair from inside the bin. “I want it gone. All of it.”
“Hey.” I leaned towards the bed to take her hand, not squeezing too hard because with the state Macey was in, I feared I might just break bones. “I support you,” I said. “I support whatever decision you make.”
Macey smiled, but it was hollow. Ghostly. She hadn’t smiled like she used to in weeks. “Thanks, Jayce.”
Just then my mom poked her head into the room, smiling at us gently. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she asked Macey, crossing the room to check her IV fluids.
“Less nauseous today,” said Macey weakly. “But more tired.”
