Learning to Live (The Infinite Love Series Book 1) by Kira Adams
I rub my face where her hand assaulted it. Is it strange to say that I’ve never felt more alive than in this very moment? Ciera Nelson has somehow snaked her way under my skin. It was so subtle I didn’t even notice it was happening…but now, there is no denying it. There is definitely something happening…whether she wants to admit it or not.
I skip my way down the stairs, and back to my car. I should be disappointed. I should be upset that she slapped me. But instead, I feel hopeful. I don’t care what anyone thinks. Ciera Nelson intrigues me, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to know her.
Chapter Sixteen
Ciera
“What exactly are you saying?” my mother asks in a shaky tone.
We’ve been in an exam room for the past half an hour meeting with Dr. Brown.
“I’m saying that Ciera’s anaplastic astrocytoma is growing much too rapidly now. We have the medication readily available and I think it’s time to decide on a date.” His eyes look pained as he spells it out for us.
My mother stifles a sob. Although most of this isn’t new to us, it’s still difficult to process. I guess it never felt real until this very moment. I grab my mother’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze.
“I’m not ready,” my mother gasps out, tears streaming down her face.
I’m finding it hard to catch my breath. “We knew this day would come. At least this way, we will know exactly how much time we have together.”
She is wringing her hands out in her lap, and I have the impulse to do the same.
“What about March 2nd?” I offer up.
Dr. Brown nods gently. “You may want to schedule it just a bit sooner. Things are only going to escalate quicker from here on out.”
“February 20th,” my mother says softly. “It is your father’s birthday.”
I glance at her. This is the first time she’s brought him up in years. I’m surprised she remembers such an intimate detail about a man she hasn’t even seen in more than twelve years.
I nod. “February 20th seems like a good day.”
She exhales loudly. We are putting an expiration date on my life, and it’s affecting the both of us to the very core.
One of the terms in the Die with Dignity act is that the patient must be terminally ill and have less than six months left to live. We always knew the time was nearing, I guess we just never knew how quickly it was approaching; how quickly the tumor was metastasizing.
I am going to die one way or another. But this way, at least it’s on my terms. At least I will die surrounded by the people I love and care about, and still be myself.
Dr. Brown shakes his head in agreement. “That gives you just about four months to enjoy the rest of what life has to offer.”
My mother squeezes my hand tighter, the shortened timeframe obviously getting to her.
I’m blinking, but not crying. I’m staring at Dr. Brown, but seeing right through him.
This is all happening too fast. I don’t even know if I am ready.
“Ciera,” I hear my name being spoken, but it sounds far away.
I don’t want to leave my mother. I don’t want to leave Rose or Wesley.
Tears are falling from my mother’s eyes along with stifled sobs.
“Ciera.”
I am watching his lips move as he addresses me, but I’m lost in my own little world.
“Ciera,” Dr. Brown’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “I’m going to let you take the medication home with you today. I know you guys decided on February 20th, but once you have the medication, it’s your choice. If it becomes too difficult, you can always take it earlier if need be.”
I lock eyes with his gentle gaze. Why me? My tongue feels heavy and dry as I try to put together my thoughts. I have no intention of taking the medication any earlier than we talked about, but I appreciate that the decision is ultimately my choice. I nod stiffly as he hands me a white paper sack.
As I grip it in my hands, my heart begins to feel tight.
My mother’s sobs turn into wails, and I feel numb. I shift my eyes over to her, and she has lost it. I know in any normal situation I would be right there with her…but I am still having trouble grasping the reality of the situation. I am in complete and utter shock. I simply nod.
A year ago, I had dreams of becoming a writer. Now, I won’t live to see my eighteenth birthday. I always thought somewhere deep down inside myself I was destined for greatness. Now, I know it’s not that simple.
Enjoy the rest of what life has to offer. Dr. Brown’s words replay in my head.
My head begins to throb, reminding me that this is my reality. Although I’m having trouble grasping it…I can’t run from it.
* * *
My mother has been crying since we left the doctor’s office. I have yet to shed a tear. When we return home, Rose and Wes are on their best behavior. They’ve never seen her like this before, and they don’t know what to do to make it okay. I just need some air. I just need a break from the tears. The more tears she sheds, the more real the situation becomes. I just want to go back to living in my fairy tale. The one where I am bullied on a regular basis, and I am just trying to survive high school, not the one where I know my days are numbered.
I take off without a destination in mind. I just need to get out of there. I’m in no shape to be running, but I ignore that and run until I can’t run anymore. Until my legs feel like jello. Until I literally collapse onto the ground. I stare up at the sky, watching the sun fade into the background of the clouds. I don’t know how I ended up here, but I did. I’m on the school grounds.
Because of my multiple appointments, I’ve missed quite a bit of school this week. I’ve always loved school, minus the bullying part. I’ve always loved expanding my knowledge on certain subjects and soaking up everything I can like a sponge. I look at the red brick building, committing it to memory.
School let out a couple of hours ago, but there is football practice. I can hear the commotion over on the field. I walk over to the fence that borders the field and lace my fingers through it. Watching the players tackle one another until I hear the coach blow the whistle to signal the end of practice. I’ve never cared for football, but it’s strange to think it won’t even matter in a short amount of time. Nothing will.
Maybe I am being punished? Maybe I deserve this?
I fall back to the ground roughly amongst the scattered bits of grass. I watch as our football team makes their way back into the locker room. Topher is there…somewhere. I’m not sure of his number, but he’s definitely amongst the pack.
After he tried to kiss me the other day, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him or his lips. I don’t know what possessed him to attempt such a thing, but if his plan was to snake his way into my thoughts…he succeeded. I’ve thought about him non-stop until we walked into Dr. Brown’s office today. Maybe, somehow, I helped him change…
I know now I can’t spend any more time with him. Not when I know the outcome of my future is grim. It isn’t fair to him. It was probably a dare anyways. I’m sure he had a video camera ready to film when I succumbed to his charms. But for that brief short amount of time that I was able to dream about the ‘what if’s’…it was beautiful.
I pull the grass out from the ground and rub it between my fingers. There are so many things I wanted to accomplish before I die. Visit another state. Get a tattoo. Ride a horse. Even if money wasn’t an object, time is.
My mind wanders to Mack. How am I going to tell Mack? Should I tell him? I don’t even know what the correct etiquette is with something of this caliber. Poor Mack. Who will he gossip with about the A-Team once I’m gone? Who will take my place?
I’m still lost in thought when I see the front doors of the school open up, and I hear our football team bustle out. There are an array of voices lost in excitement over today’s practice, and their upcoming game against Stayton.
I should probably get back home. My mother is going to be worried sick. I don’t
I begin making my way toward the parking lot, headed toward the street when I hear his voice. I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s him. The goose bumps that raise all over my skin are confirmation.
“Ciera!” he calls after me, and then I hear feet hitting pavement as he runs over to me.
I don’t know if I can handle seeing him. Not when I know what I know now.
“Hey,” he says softly when he reaches me. His cheeks are tinged pink from the cool weather, and his heated practice, and it accentuates his blue-green eyes.
I nod at him as a greeting, but don’t bother responding.
“Have you been avoiding me?” he asks. “I noticed I haven’t seen you in class much this week.”
If only it were that simple.
I shake my head slightly.
Confusion spills over his face as he tries to understand me. “Where have you been?”
A few weeks ago, if you would have told me Topher Carlson cared about my whereabouts, I would have choked from surprise. I would have never believed it. Now, I can see something has changed behind his eyes. I’m still not exactly sure what brought on the change, but it’s a good look for him.
To be honest, I haven’t been too worried about missing school as everyone and their mother seem to be interested in our new friendship. It’s been difficult to walk down the hall without hearing the whispers, or seeing the stares. Everyone wants to know why he changed his tune. Why I matter.
I shrug. “I had some appointments.”
He nods. “Well, what are you doing here?”
I look around at the school. “I went for a run and kind of ended up here…”
He doesn’t even try to hide his surprise. “You run?”
My cheeks instantly begin flaming up. “Sometimes.” It’s not like I don’t take ample amounts of breaks, but he doesn’t need to know that information.
He breaks out into a grin. “I used to be on the track team. We should run together sometime.”
Yeah. Right.
I shrug. “Maybe.”
He glances out at the parking lot which is becoming emptier by the minute. A few of his teammates are pulling out, and some climb out passenger side windows to yell derogatory comments my way.
“Just ignore them,” he says softly. “It’s what I do.”
He shifts back and forth on the heels of his feet. “Do you need a ride home?”
My legs do feel like they might break off. And I can already feel the forming blisters.
What are you doing? You just said how you need to distance yourself from him.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” I guess my inner voice will just have to shove it.
“Cool,” he says, and then begins walking toward a bright blue 2014 Mustang.
“New car?” I motion to the car as he unlocks it.
He shrugs. “For the moment.”
“Must be nice,” I mutter under my breath as I climb in.
The drive back is uncomfortably quiet. I know I should be trying harder to fill the silence, but my mind keeps wandering. Topher seems to notice the tension.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, shifting his eyes between me and the road.
I nod, but still don’t say a word.
“You’re really quiet,” he says under his breath.
Although I know my time is limited, I’ve lived long enough to see the most popular guy in school change his tune and attitude. To see the most handsome guy I’ve ever laid eyes on show even a fraction of interest in me. A silent tear trickles down my cheek, and then it’s as if the floodgates have been opened. I can’t stop it. The tears free fall my face onto my pants.
Topher turns his head toward me quickly a few times, and I know I can’t hide it. I feel the car slowing down, and then it is pulled over to the side of the road. He turns off the engine, but doesn’t say a word.
I continue crying silently, which slowly turns into full on wails. I’m pounding my fist into the dashboard angrily. I’m too young. I’ve never even been kissed. I’m never going to get to walk down the aisle. I’m never going to be able to carry my own child.
I keel over and throw my head between my legs. Hyperventilating. I am trying to get breath into my lungs with no luck.
I feel Topher’s hand gently rub my back. He is rubbing it in a circular motion and after a few minutes, my breathing begins to level out. I feel his hand leave my back, but the heat from his touch lingers. A couple of moments later, I hear him open his door, and climb out of the car. My eyes are blurry from the tears, so I don’t bother moving an inch.
My door opens up, and I feel the cool, brisk wind seep in. Topher reaches in, grabbing my hands, and lifts me up. I can’t even look him in the eyes. I’m sniffling and looking down. I feel defeated. He encircles me in his arms, pulling me in tightly. My heart begins to race from his touch. One of his hands is around my neck holding me close, and the other has resumed its circular motion on my back. I can feel his chin on top of my head, and every now and then, his lips gently press against my hair, making the butterflies in my stomach act erratically.
He doesn’t say a word. He just continues to hold me tightly in his arms. It’s comforting, and exactly what I need. I’m thankful he doesn’t ask why I’m crying, or why I broke down right in front of him. It’s as if he knows that all I need right now is a friend. And even though there are things he’s done to me in the past that I may never forget…this is a huge step in the right direction to moving past them. Maybe I can forgive him. Maybe he deserves that.
Chapter Seventeen
Topher
I hold her silently until her breathing evens out, and her tears have long since dried up. The moon is illuminating the sky, and the sound of crickets and wind takes over our surroundings. Slowly, I begin to release her. I trace my fingers across her jawline gently. “You want to talk about it?”
She leans into my fingers for mere seconds before turning her face away from mine, averting my gaze. “Can you take me home?”
I nod, without saying a word.
We climb back into the car, and the air has changed between us.
I don’t know what it is about this girl, but seeing her hurt kills me. I want to beat up whoever made her cry. But she isn’t talking.
I glance over at her in the darkened car, taking in her delicate features. Her small ears, her long eyelashes, her cute nose. It’s like I’m seeing her for the first time. Ciera is not my type. She’s never been. But then again, neither was Sophia. Maybe I don’t even know my type.
She’s definitely not skinny by any means…but I like the fact that I can’t break her in two. I like the fact that she has curves and meat on her bones.
“You’re staring,” she whispers through a shaky breath as she locks eyes with me quickly, before shifting them back out the window.
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly as I break the stare.
But I’m not sorry. Not in one bit. My eyes flicker back to her face and her reddened cheeks.
I love the way her shorter hair accentuates her facial features. I love how the color brightens up her eyes and smile. Her blue eyes meet mine once more, but this time she doesn’t look away. I find myself drowning in her sapphire irises. Her cheeks grow redder by the second, but this time it doesn’t seem to be the tears causing it.