My Skylar

  The plan was for Mitch to stay the entire weekend with me at my father’s house, so I prayed for no nausea. As of now, I was feeling decent.

  There was a knock on my bedroom door.

  “Come in!”

  Nina was carrying a wig on a Styrofoam head along with some clothing on hangers.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I look…like ass.”

  “Well, when we get done, you might still feel like it, but you won’t look like it.”

  She put down all of her stuff and sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you still scared to see him?”

  “A little.”

  “Why?”

  “He just doesn’t have any clue how different I look now. I know he cares about me, but I want him to want me the way he used to.” I closed my eyes and pictured his face. “I love the way he looks at me, Nina.”

  Her expression was sympathetic. “I hope you don’t mind, but I happened to mention what you’re going through with Mitch to Jake. I wanted his take on it.”

  Jake was Nina’s boyfriend. From pictures, I knew he was a hot, tattooed God of a man. I hadn’t met him yet, but he seemed really down to Earth from how she described him. Seriously, though, he wouldn’t have to say a damn thing and that would have been fine with me, too.

  “What did he say?”

  “First, he told me that if I lost all of my hair, he’d just have to find something else to grab onto while I went down on him. Then, he proceeded to wonder if I would also lose the hair between my legs, and when I told him yes, he did a little fist pump. When he was finally serious about it, he said under no terms would he find me any less beautiful without hair and said to tell you that if Mitch was into you before all of this, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “He sounds like my kind of guy.”

  “You have no idea. Why do you think I’ve kept him away from you for so long?” She winked.

  “Well, feel free to bring him over anytime…over…under…wherever he’d like me.”

  Nina pretended to smother me with a pillow. She knew my sense of humor and wasn’t bothered by it. “We should get started. I have to leave at five, and Mitch will be here in a couple of hours, right?”

  “Yup. Let’s check the inventory. Hair?”

  Nina lifted the Styrofoam head. “Check.”

  “Boobs.”

  She reached into a large black duffel bag and lifted the silicone chicken cutlets I asked her to buy me, throwing them at me jokingly. “Check!”

  I stuffed them into my bra. “It’s expensive to look cheap, isn’t it? Make up and false lashes?”

  Nina took out a floral makeup bag and waved it. “Check!”

  “Condoms.”

  “You didn’t say—”

  “I’m kidding.

  “You’d better be. You’re barely sixteen, you little nymphomaniac.”

  “Ah…don’t you mean lymphomaniac?

  She shook her head. “Skylar, that was bad even for you.”

  “In all seriousness…if I wanted to have sex with Mitch, wouldn’t you support me?”

  She hesitated. “I would, but I’d feel better if you were a little older and if I were sure you were truly ready, not just pushing yourself to grow up too fast out of fear.”

  I had no real intention of losing my virginity anytime soon, but I wanted to know that she’d be there for me. “Point taken. Now, get over here and work your magic.”

  “I don’t know about magic…”

  “You’re transforming a hairless cancer patient into a drag queen in less than twenty minutes. Even Copperfield wouldn’t touch that.”

  Nina laughed and helped me get into a simple black sweater dress she let me borrow before starting my makeup. She was by no means an expert beautician, but it was adorable how she pursed her lips and concentrated as she lined my eyes, glued on the lashes and powdered my face.

  It started to get dark out, and my nerves kicked in, knowing that Mitch had hopped a late afternoon train and was already on his way.

  Nina wouldn’t let me look at myself until she was finished. After she placed the wig on my head, she handed me a mirror.

  I looked like a different person. “Wow.”

  “Is that a good ‘wow'?"

  “Yeah. I mean...I don’t look like Caillou anymore. That’s for sure.”

  She grinned. “More like Jessica Rabbit?”

  The wig was beautifully made, but once on, it made my scalp hot as hell. The color was also a lot redder than my normal auburn. I did like the smooth, straight style, though. The false lashes brought out the green color of my eyes, but they were too long, and the lipstick was too bright.

  I didn’t want to make Nina feel bad, but this definitely wasn’t me. I had to remind myself that I had specifically asked her to make me up like this to distract from the baldness and weight loss.

  She looked worried. “Is it too much?”

  “You know what? It just needs to be toned down a little. Hand me that tissue.”

  I took one out and wiped off most of the lipstick then slowly pulled off the lashes.

  I still looked made up, just a little less dramatic. “This is good now. I really do love this wig.”

  She smiled as she brushed the hair out. “This is about you being comfortable. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

  I’d be happy once Mitch saw me and didn’t run in the other direction.

  ***

  On the subway to Brooklyn. See you in about twenty minutes.

  I kept staring at the text from Mitch. That was twenty minutes ago, and he would be here any minute. I wanted to save my energy, so I stayed sitting up on the bed and stared out at the bright moon. The reflection in the window of my newly made-up silhouette triggered mixed feelings.

  The doorbell startled me, and I let Lizete answer.

  I heard her say, “Nice to see you again, Mitch.”

  The front door shut, and butterflies filled my stomach as the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs got closer.

  My hands felt clammy, and I breathed in and out one last time.

  I was sitting up on the bed with my arms wrapped around my shins when the door slowly opened.

  Mitch dropped his giant backpack on the ground and immediately joined me on the bed. He pulled me into a hug and exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath for a while. I was afraid to look into his eyes, not wanting to see any change in the way they looked back at me. I just stayed with my eyes closed, breathing in the smell of his skin that I had been craving.

  He said nothing as he continued to hold me. Then, I felt his hand on my chin as he whispered, “Hey, look at me.”

  I turned to him and immediately wished I hadn’t. How could it be that while I wasted away these past couple of months, he had grown more stunningly handsome? Those butterflies in my stomach were multiplying by the second as I took in his appearance. He had stubble on his chin, which also seemed more angular. His hair was even more grown out and styled into messy perfection. The same navy hoodie he always wore was now snug, conforming to a more muscular frame. He was turning into a man while I was shrinking.

  “Look at you. You look nice,” he said.

  “I wanted to look good for you, so I had Nina help make me up, but it doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right.”

  “None of…this? What are you talking about?”

  “You looking like you just stepped out of GQ and me looking like…a crack whore.”

  His smile faded. “Skylar, come on. You’re being a little tough on yourself, don’t you think? Look at what you’ve been through. You look amazing.”

  “For a cancer patient? That’s not saying much.”

  I stood up off of the bed and must have risen too fast. A feeling of dizziness came over me, and I had to grip the dresser to balance.

  He jumped off the bed. “Are you okay?”

  “I got up too fast. I feel really nauseous all of a sudden. I think I’m going to throw up. You should go
downstairs, Mitch. You don’t want to see this.”

  “I just got here. I’m not leaving you.”

  I hated this. I couldn’t even last five minutes without an outburst and a bout of nausea.

  That was the last thought I remembered having before seeing stars and dropping to the floor.

  CHAPTER 12

  MITCH

  I’d never been more petrified of anything in my entire life. When Skylar suddenly collapsed, I practically flew toward her, catching her head in mid-air just before it hit the ground.

  “Help!” I yelled, but no one answered. Her stepmother must have left the house.

  My heart was pounding through my chest. I tapped her cold cheek. “Skylar! Skylar, please.”

  Just as I grabbed my phone to call 911, her eyelids fluttered.

  “Skylar. Skylar, you’re okay. I’m here.”

  “Mitch? What happened? Where am I?”

  “You fainted.”

  “Oh.”

  “Has this happened before?”

  “The doctor warned me about dehydration with all the vomiting lately. I must have gotten up too fast.”

  “Do you feel like you can stand up?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

  “Okay. We’ll stay here. I’m just gonna get up for one second and get a pillow.”

  “No. Don’t leave me.”

  “Okay. I won’t.”

  I took off my jacket and placed it under her head. After a few minutes, she used my hand to balance herself slowly to a sitting position.

  “I think I can stand up now.”

  I led her over to the bed then grabbed a water bottle from my bag unable to open it fast enough. “Drink some of this.”

  She sat up slowly against the headboard and drank from the bottle as I held it to her mouth. “Thanks. I never had water today. Dumb move.”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “A little nauseous.”

  “Tell me what you need.”

  “Just stay here next to me.” She remained sitting up with a pillow propped against her back and closed her eyes.

  She didn’t realize her wig had shifted and for the first time, I caught a glimpse of the bald head underneath. She would have freaked if she knew, so I didn’t say anything.

  Admittedly, it was a shock to see it at first, but everything that had happened from the second I walked in that door had been a rude awakening. Somehow, despite hearing over the phone about everything she’d been going through, I had imagined her physically unchanged, which was easier when I was away and feeling helpless. The reality of how physically weak she had become was hard to accept.

  I continued to watch her as she lay with her eyes closed. Black eyeliner was running down her cheek on one side. My heart broke that she felt the need to make herself look unrecognizable, thinking that it would please me. My chest felt heavy, ready to combust in pain, sadness, frustration and love for her all at once.

  Even though she looked sick and had lost her hair, not for a second did I love her any less. It killed me that she worried that I’d view her differently because she looked different.

  If she only knew how much more I loved her right now, how much more I respected her after witnessing firsthand the strength it took to fight the war her body was enduring.

  On top of that, the threat of losing her seemed more real now.

  In a way, you don’t realize the depth of your feelings until something like this happens. Through her frailty, I saw her soul—the essence of why I’d always loved her. It shined brighter, no longer paling in the reflection of her physical beauty. It made me realize that I truly loved her from the inside out, not the other way around.

  She suddenly opened her eyes and turned her head in my direction, catching me staring at her. “What are you looking at?”

  “Remember on the phone that day, how you said you felt like half of yourself?”

  “Now, you can see why, right?”

  My tone bordered on angry. She had it all wrong. “No. No…that’s not what I was getting at.” I grabbed her hand. “I’ve felt like half of myself, too…until now. I only feel whole when I’m with you. Now that I see with my own eyes what you’ve been going through, I feel like I’ve been living a lie all these weeks. I should have been here.”

  “No. You shouldn’t have. I wouldn’t want you here all of the time to witness the worst.”

  Tell her you love her.

  The words wouldn’t come out. As usual, I convinced myself that she would think I was saying it only because she was sick. So, I decided against it. Another thought popped into my head instead. “Will you come to my prom with me?”

  “What? What exactly about this situation screams prom queen?”

  “I was just thinking. I know it’s a ways away, but it will be after your treatments are done. I could never picture going unless you were with me. It’ll be something for us to look forward to.”

  She smiled for the first time since I had walked in the door. “Okay. I could use that.”

  “It’s settled then.”

  When I leaned in to hug her, her wig accidentally shifted further off her head. She jumped in a panic, frantically trying to reposition it.

  I put my hand on her arm. “Wait. I want to see it.”

  She let out a single laugh. “No freaking way.”

  “Skylar, your wig’s been slightly off your head this whole time. I didn’t say anything, so I’ve already seen part of it.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  “I need you to stop being so afraid. It doesn’t matter to me. You matter to me. I can’t prove that to you if you think it all depends on your wearing that wig.”

  She shook her head, and a tear fell down her cheek. She mouthed, “I can’t.”

  I fought like hell to stop my own tears from falling and looked deep into her eyes. “Please.”

  I had honestly not expected her to go for it. When she lowered her arm, she gave me a conflicted look and a slight nod, reluctantly giving me silent permission.

  My hand shook a little as I slowly pulled the wig back, letting it fall onto the pillow. I wasn’t nervous to see her bald. I was nervous because I knew she was scared. I worried that she’d misinterpret my emotions. The truth was, what she had just handed me amidst her own fear had truly surprised and moved me. It meant that somewhere inside of her beyond the insecurity, she knew how much I cared about her.

  Her chest rose, and she wouldn’t look at me. I understood. Her self-consciousness didn’t keep me from doing the one thing I couldn’t help, though.

  My rough fingertips rubbed along her smooth, perfectly round scalp. Her head was hot with slight beads of perspiration from the wig, which probably irritated her. And that irritated me. The skin on top of her head felt like silk. Her eyes were still closed as I moved my fingers in slow soft circles over it.

  All of Skylar’s hair transformations during the phases of our friendship ran through my mind like a slideshow: the whimsical braids of the little girl who brought me back to life as a boy, the long, rain-soaked tresses of the vixen in the Catholic school uniform. I loved them all, but none had meant more to me than the vulnerable girl with the soft, smooth head who just put all of her trust in me.

  I moved in behind her, and she rested her back against my chest. I lowered my lips and planted a kiss on her head. She was too tired to fight the contact. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me.” I kissed the same spot again. “Please know that.”

  Tell her you love her.

  My mouth rested against the top of her head as she continued to lean against me.

  Coward.

  I closed my eyes and felt her breathing start to even out then realized she had fallen asleep in my arms. When I finally opened my eyes, I looked in the doorway to find Skylar’s father standing there watching us. I flinched and opened my mouth ready to apologize for being in her bed when he held up his hand.

  “Shh. Stay. Don’t wake her.” His
eyes were watery, and his voice was shaky. I wondered how long he had been there and what he had seen.

  ***

  My back hurt from the couch downstairs. I wasn’t able to sleep knowing that Skylar hadn’t been feeling well last night. The house was quiet since everyone was still sleeping. I went into the kitchen and started to make coffee. The brown liquid dripped down into the carafe. I counted the drops with disdain, each one signifying another second closer to having to leave her again.

  Oliver startled me. “Morning, son.”

  I turned around. “Hi. I hope you don’t mind. I made some coffee.”

  He nodded. “No, that’s good. I’ll take one black. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine, just hoping she’s feeling better than yesterday.”

  “This can’t be easy for you seeing her like this,” he said.

  “I can handle it as long she’s feeling okay.”

  “We’ve had some rough days lately.”

  “Is she up?”

  “I didn’t hear her when I came down.” He pulled up a chair and sat down. “Listen, I know before this, I hadn’t really been present all that much in her life, but she always has nothing but good things to say about you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Please call me Oliver.”

  “Okay…Oliver.”

  “She’s stuck with me now, but she would never stay here by choice otherwise. I know she’s not happy here. I wish she knew how much I loved her. I tell her all the time now, but I’ve made a lot of mistakes with her over the years.”

  I handed him a coffee. “She knows you love her, sir…Oliver.”

  He took a sip and peeked at me from over the mug. “Does she know you do?”

  “What?”

  “It’s okay to say it, you know.”

  I nodded. He was definitely standing at that door longer than I thought yesterday. “I get it. Thanks.”

  ***

  Throughout the weekend, Skylar continued to be sick as a dog. Despite her showing me her head, she insisted on wearing the wig around me.