Tomorrow won’t come.
All I have is today.
“You’re really passionate about it,” Kit says, “but it also makes you sad. Because of Julian?”
The name of my brother on his lips is jarring. Instant tears prickle at my eyes. I freeze, panicked by the onslaught of grief that attacks me from all directions. Emotions I’d been carefully shoving down into the dark holes of who I am come raging to the surface. I can’t hide them or hide from them. All I can do is remain still as they obliterate me.
Everything in the lunchroom blurs as the tears that flooded my summer come rushing back. I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I should have left already. My hand shoves down into my pocket and I grip the pill bottle. It rattles in my hand as my entire body shakes. The sourness in my stomach burns up my esophagus.
I want to go home.
I want to crawl into my twin bed and stare at the other twin bed, pretending my twin was still alive.
Fuck, I miss him so much.
An arm wraps around me, startling me. A curly-headed boy leans his head on my shoulder, providing warmth to my chilled, aching soul. I hate that a tear slips out where everyone can see.
No one looks.
My grief makes them feel awkward.
I’ve been so alone with it.
Until now.
“Do you take medicine?” Kit asks, his voice soft and soothing.
Another tear leaks out as I nod.
“Have you taken it today?” His fingers run up and down my arm. When I shake my head, he says, “Don’t you think you should?”
I was supposed to take them all.
Not one.
Thirty.
“I guess,” I choke out.
“Do it then.” His tone is firm, urging me on.
Shakily, I pull it out and the pills rattle. Kit’s fingers brush over mine as he takes it from me. Because he’s a nosy stalker, he reads the label. Then, he takes his arm from around me to open it. He hands me one.
Just one.
“Take your medicine,” he instructs. “And then tell me your favorite Nine Inch Nails album.”
I swallow down the pill, thoughts of music already chasing the dark sadness away for the moment. He hands me back the closed bottle and turns his head to look at me.
Too close, Kit.
Too close.
This close, I want to pull him to me and kiss him. In front of everyone. In front of all the kids who turn a blind eye to the boy who’s shattered beyond repair and has one foot out the door of this life. The same kids I grew up with going to birthday parties and school dances. Kids I had sleepovers with and camping trips.
I’m something they don’t understand now.
Something they fear.
Rather than loving me by default because of Julian, they’ve forgotten all about his steady shadow. I’m a figment to them. Barely existing. Casper, not Jasper.
Kit reaches up with his thumb, swiping away the tear that still clings to my jaw. He wipes it on my T-shirt, a teasing grin on his face. His touch warms and soothes me. I absolutely crave it.
The bell rings, breaking our spell. I’m not discouraged, though, because I know the very next class Kit will be there too. And the ones following after. After school, he’ll walk with me to my car and allow me to take him home. It’s like he’s replacing the dead, stagnant air around me with sunshine and apples.
For my last day on Earth, he’s making it pretty spectacular.
Because of him, I’ll get to have meatloaf. I’ll have another evening hanging out with Dad as we discuss music. I’ll feel the twins moving in Mom’s stomach.
I want to thank him, but he’s leaving his seat to deposit the trash from our lunch. I’d learned a lot about his disease in a short time. It’s like he has so much to say and has to talk fast in order to be able to say it all.
Kit waits for me, his hand outstretched. I absolutely need his touch. Gratefully, I grasp onto his hand as he leads me to our next class. Since I know where we’re going, I guide him with hand gestures along the way. Students stare at us, intrigued by our handholding, but no one makes fun of us.
Everyone at Mountain Grand High knows I’m gay.
I’ve dated some guys over the years whom I have classes with.
Kit already announced to the class his sexuality.
I guess it’s not a surprise to our peers, though it’s a surprise to me how taken I am with Kit.
When we near our class, he sees one of the cheerleaders, Harloe, and waves. She gives me a confused look before waving back at him.
“Is your sister okay, Harloe?” he asks, stopping in front of her.
Her thick, mascara painted lashes flutter hard, a tiny frown tugging at the normally smiling cheerleader’s face. “She’s better. How did you know about my sister?”
“Stalker, remember?” her friend, Serena, whispers loudly. “Eric says he knows everything about everyone.”
Kit nods rapidly, answering the not-so-quiet friend, his hair moving wildly at the action. “I do,” he agrees. “I studied up on everyone the moment I knew we were moving here. Including you, Serena.”
I want to tell him he’s being creepy, but I know it won’t bother him. It’s in his nature. He disarms people.
Harloe smirks. “I bet you found all kinds of dirt on everyone.”
“Mostly good stuff,” he says. “Your sister idolizes you. I saw the picture you posted of the two of you jet skiing this summer.”
“That picture was…” Harloe’s eyes water. “It was before she went under.” Her bottom lip wobbles and she shoots me a devastated look. “She almost died.”
I feel the pain in her words. The horror and heartache. The relief. Sure, I lost my brother, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I’m thankful her sister survived the accident. I’d seen the post a week ago, the weekend before school started, and felt gutted for her.
“But you saved her. All those years lifeguarding helped, huh?” Kit says, pride in his voice.
Serena hugs her, nodding rapidly. “She did. My bestie is a hero.”
My head hangs. I wish I could have been a hero just once for Julian. I didn’t go to the senior prom, though, and he was pronounced dead on the scene.
Harloe gives me a quick, awkward hug that startles me. “So sorry about Julian,” she whispers. “I never got a chance to tell you at the funeral and I didn’t want to bring it up in case it made you sad.”
I meet her gaze, swallowing down the emotion. “I don’t want to forget about him. Talking about him makes me sad, but not talking about him makes me sadder.”
Understanding flickers in her eyes. “I’m, uh, here for you if you need to talk.”
“Thanks,” I murmur and mean it.
“What did you learn about me?” Serena asks Kit. “Anything good?”
“You finally nailed the back full twist. That video was awesome!” Kit exclaims, holding up his hand for her to high-five him.
She squeals and smacks his hand. “You know how hard that was? I literally had to do five hundred crunches a day in order to get my abdominal muscles ready. Harloe still can’t do one yet.”
The girls tease each other, but they’re both smiling.
Kit does this.
He’s an infection.
Or, maybe he’s a cure.