Ryan and I meet back up with the rest of the group and Luis herds us onto the roller coaster. Veronica wants to sit this one out—not a fan of high speeds and sudden drops. Luis gives her big sad eyes. He tells her how the plan is for all of us to ride—together. Veronica gives in only when he promises to sit with her. He takes her hand and guides her through the line.
I smile. Perfect. Maybe they do have a chance.
“What?” Ryan asks. He looks between me and Veronica and Luis.
“Nothing,” I say. “You coming?”
“I’m in line, aren’t I?”
“Because I can vouch for this ride—doctor and parent approved.”
He bumps his shoulder into mine and I can’t help but smile. This day may be one of the best I’ve had in a long time.
“You sure you’re okay with not seeing Jack? Like, seeing my friends didn’t freak you out? Did Jack say something about you not meeting up?”
“Seeing you with your friends—it was good. I texted Brooke.… I’m here with you all and you deserve the same attention, because we’re friends.” I don’t want to run away from them—from Ryan.
The ride attendant gives us the go-ahead and we pile into the cars. For the next two minutes as we race around the track it’s like we can outrun the world. I throw my hands up and scream my excitement.
For once, my lungs listen and keep it together. I know my body will crash tomorrow, but for now I feel more Ellie-like than I have for a while.
Next to me, Ryan too seems to have broken the disabled equilibrium. We’re just kids enjoying the mall. We land back at the station with a sudden jerk of the magnetic breaks.
Caitlin dances down the steps, Luis waiting for Veronica. Our photos are pulled up on a screen. I’ve never stopped to look at these before no matter how many times I’ve come to Morelands—because Mom always stops and, more often than not, she’ll buy one of the photos to include in her update—like Look at us, we can be normal too.
“Should we?” Veronica asks, bouncing on her toes, still high on the adrenaline rush.
Caitlin and I exchange looks. I mean, sure, we would like one, maybe? But who has that kind of parent money?
“Why don’t we take a photo instead?” Luis says.
“We have to get back to the bus,” Caitlin says, holding up her phone. But she’s not looking at her phone or even really concerned about the time. It’s me who holds her focus.
I don’t do photos. Caitlin eyes me, because she knows my position. Even if Mom didn’t include photos of me in the hospital in every one of her updates, photos just always scream Ellie is different. I never look like the others, and normally it doesn’t bother me, but when I can’t avoid it in a photo … it does. I love myself most days, but I dare anyone to say they love themselves all day every day. I just don’t need my differences shoved under my nose.
But today I feel brave enough to immortalize this day in digital pixels. Ryan was right—with the five of us, there’s something here and we need to treasure the magic we have now.
“Let’s.”
Caitlin’s eyes go wide.
“It’s a miracle,” she declares. We all pose in front of a display and Veronica steps out to take it.
“Let me,” a worker says. He points at me. “You there on the end, can you get a little closer?”
I scoot toward Ryan, aware of how little space remains between us. He’s just a medical coach. Nothing more. My stomach ties in knots as we all press together, smiles in place. This isn’t the forced photo for my mom. This feels real.
“A funny one,” the worker says.
Ryan turns to me and makes a face. I laugh and get called out for it by the cast member. Ryan tries to make his face as big as possible and I do the opposite, squinching my features like I’ve sucked on a lemon. Photo session over, we break apart and Veronica takes her phone back. She sends most of the shots to our group chat.
Ping! My phone gets an extra message.
How Veronica managed to crop a photo that fast, I don’t know. But she’s zoomed in on me laughing at Ryan. He’s leaning toward me and I have my hand on his shoulder. From the photo, I could be pulling him closer as much as pushing him away.
Veronica
Just friends?
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So maybe that’s why I feel like I’m being yelled at? The photo seems to hint at all the things that could be—the friendship, the ease, the way it feels like we’re in sync with each other—and I want it.
“Forget something?” Caitlin asks when she notices I’m not with the group.
I jam my phone in my pocket. The last thing I want is for Caitlin to see that photo of me and Ryan.
She will because of the group chat photos, but when we’re all together it looks less like a couple’s photo and more like we’re just friends.
Veronica is just taking everything out of context.
“Your book—for your dad,” Caitlin says.
We’re on the opposite side of the park from the bookstore, but if I want to get something for my dad, it has to be now.
“Crap,” I say. Yes, I need to. “I’ll be quick.” She waves me off and I walk as fast as my lungs will allow. Dodging around attractions and displays, I weave my way across the park toward the bookstore.
I walk confidently into the store and grab the book off the table, then make my way to the registers. Purchase in hand, I head for the exit—and there’s Ryan. He’s almost doubled over, one hand on the table and the other on his cane.
I forget about everything else. What was he thinking? He’s pushed himself far enough all day, now he’s literally running after me.
“Are you okay?” Everything leaves my mind. The book, my dad, surgery. Ryan takes up all the space in my view.
I rub his back and he slowly stands up, drawing a deep breath. He winces in pain and I want to chastise him for being so careless with his body.
“You just took off. I thought … Caitlin might have said something to you. The way you just ran…”
“I needed to get one last thing,” I say, holding up my bag.
“I was sure…”
I take a step closer, pushing into his personal space. “Were you worried about me, Ryan?” I ask, my voice full of laughter. I lean against the table, the book dangling by my side.
I expect him to move back, to retreat, but he not only stands his ground, he leans in. We lock eyes, our faces inches away from each other. His lips are so close, the bottom one slightly bigger than the top.
Wait. Why am I thinking about his lips?
And then Ryan breaks the spell. He scoffs and looks up at the ceiling; using the table he backs up like I’ve just said the most absurd thing in the world. Secretly, I enjoy putting him on edge. Just a small reminder that he’s not the perfect hospital boy he pretends to be.
I reach out and dust invisible dirt off his shoulders.
That was a mistake. The contact. A touch. I of all people should know how dangerous that is. How it can change you. I pull my hand back, as if burned. And maybe I have been.
Perhaps the day has gotten to me, Veronica’s words more like it, the late nights, the photo—I kiss him. Just to try it out. To see if this flash of what could be is enough. It’s soft—but neither of us pulls away, as if we’re both trying to figure out what this is. His hand curls around my neck and his cane clatters to the ground.
The noise has me jumping back. What did I just do?
I pull my book to my chest, as if I can create more barriers between Ryan and me. More things that will fight off the feelings still lingering in the air.
We both stand there glassy-eyed and—at least in my case—wanting to take that kiss back but also wanting it to never stop. What have I done?
Ryan wavers on his feet; neither of us seems to be able to stop this moment or pull out of it. “We should go.”
“Probably.”
And yet, we don’t move.
Ping!
And collectively our phones go off. A string of texts followed by ringtones.
“I think we’re being summoned.” I hold up my phone to show the number of texts from Tumor Squad.
“Yeah,” he says, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
We keep a safe distance from each other all the way back to the parking lot.