I jerk my head in a nod.
My mom kisses me on the cheek. “Maybe call Trevor when you get back, hm? You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“And what about you?”
Her smile is wry. “You know I’m okay on my own, hon. I quite like it that way. But if it’ll make you feel better, I promise to call a friend if I need it, okay?”
“Okay. Yeah, good. Um…” I puff out a breath. “I love you. So much.”
“Love you, too. Careful on your way home.”
It’s hard to turn for the door, but I manage it at last. There’s not a single detail I remember about the drive home, only that I’m pulling up to the house I share an hour later, my mom’s smile still on my mind.
My feet drag on the way up to my room. I’m pretty sure I pass someone, and when I hear footsteps following me, I figure it must be Todd. He trails me into my bedroom, coming around to the front of me when I stand there in the middle of the room, unmoving.
“Isaac?” His head pops into view, my friend craning his neck to catch my eye. “Hey…you all right?”
Shoes still on my feet, I sit on the edge of my bed and scrub my face. “No.”
The mattress bounces when Todd plunks down next to me. “Don’t tell me it’s Library Guy. I really liked him. What’d he do?”
My laugh is small and aching. “Nothing. He didn’t do anything. It’s not that.”
“Your mom?” Todd asks after a long moment.
I nod, pressing my lips together to stop them from trembling.
“Ah, shit,” Todd mutters, almost too quietly for me to hear. His arm comes around my shoulder as he forcibly tugs me to his side.
I turn my face against his neck, unable to stop the tears that fall.
“Tell me?” he asks, his hand rubbing up and down my arm.
“Lymphoma,” I croak.
I can feel him nod. “Do you know what kind?”
“Um… Non-Hodgkin? She used the term…uh, indolent?”
“That’s good,” Todd says softly, his hand moving to my head, fingers drifting through my hair. “That means it’s not aggressive, Isaac. People can live a very long time with that kind of cancer. And maintain a good quality of life, too.”
I appreciate Todd’s factual reassurances. For some reason, hearing it from him gives me the tiniest sliver of hope. Of course my mom would do her best to downplay the news, but Todd wouldn’t lie to me. Not about this.
“I don’t want to lose her,” I admit.
Todd exhales heavily. “I know, bae. We’re never ready to lose the people we love. Saying goodbye isn’t always within our control, but our choices are. So you just need to keep making the best of the time you’re both given.”
“Goddamn it, Todd. Why do you have to be so smart?”
He pets my hair some more. “Should I rally the troops? We can watch a movie tonight and veg. What do you think?”
I nod against his shoulder. “I need candy.”
“Of course.”
“And popcorn.”
Todd sucks in a breath. “You know the last time I tried to make popcorn, I smoked out the kitchen.”
