Fighting For You (Bragan University Series Book 2) Page 8

  “I can’t wait,” I tell her. “But look, I’ve gotta go and see what Fiona needs. I’ll talk to you later?”

  I wait for her nod before hauling ass out the door.

  “Slow down, Falcon,” Nick complains when I bump into him as I rush into the locker room.

  “I got places to be!” I shout, stripping down to hit the showers.

  “Oh really, Lover Boy? Have you found yourself a lady we don’t know about?” Zack jokes, and I shake my head. These guys just don’t know when to stop.

  I walk over to the showers with Zack and Nick right behind me. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I tease because I’m in a good mood, and if practicing in this heat didn’t ruin it, nothing else will.

  “Seriously though, why the rush?” Nick asks.

  “I have a birthday party to attend,” I answer and immediately regret it.

  I let the water run over my head as I wash away the sweat from today’s practice. “You have a party to go to, and you’re not inviting us?” Zack asks, pretending to be hurt.

  I wrap the towel around myself and exit the showers. “Exactly,” I reply. Once again, the duo follows right behind me as I walk into the locker room and start getting dressed.

  “Why you gotta be like that, man? We want to party too,” Zack whines.

  “You party every day, dude.”

  “So?” Nick says like that’s no big deal.

  I pull on my shirt. “This is for a hospital patient,” I tell them, hoping it gets them off my case.

  “Oh, never mind, then,” Nick says, immediately backing off.

  “I’m all good,” Zack responds.

  “Really? You guys don’t want to come?” I add, just because seeing them scram is entertaining.

  “Nah, I just remembered I’ve got some homework to catch up on,” Zack says, and while I want to say that’s a bullshit excuse, he probably does have homework. He’s been taking summer classes in addition to football practice, and whatever the hell else he does almost every night.

  Putting on my pants and shoes, I grab my gym bag and stuff all the gear inside. I tell the guys that I’ll see them later and zoom out of the locker room.

  I take hurried steps over to my car because I’m eager to see Zoe, to spend her birthday with her. I reach my car, throw the gym bag into the trunk, and get into the driver’s seat.

  The drive to Zoe’s house only takes me a few minutes. Parking my car on the side of the street, I grab the flowers, balloons, and chocolate I’d bought for her birthday gift. I don’t know if she’s the kind of girl that likes flowers, balloons, or chocolate, so I got all three just to be safe. For some reason, not knowing what she likes or dislikes bothers me, and I make a mental note to get to know her better.

  With all three gifts in my hand, I make my way to her front door. Unlike earlier, my steps aren’t rushed; instead, I walk slowly and I know it’s because I’m nervous. This is a special day for her, and I don’t know whether I should be here, whether she wants me here. All I know is that this is where I want to be—I’ve been looking forward to it all week.

  ZOE

  “I got it,” I yell the moment I hear the doorbell ring. I take the stairs down two at a time, excited about who’s likely waiting on the other side.

  “Slow down,” my father yells from the kitchen, and I watch him grab more meat from the fridge before retreating to the back yard, where he’s been grilling for the last two hours. How did he even know I was running? I guess parents do know everything.

  I take a moment to catch my breath, then I pry the door open. I’m met by giant balloons and a bouquet of roses. Behind them is a very tall, handsome dark-haired guy.

  “Happy birthday, Red,” he says with the biggest smile, and I can’t help but smile back.

  “I thought we got rid of ‘Red’,” I counter.

  He chuckles. “Happy birthday, Evans,” he corrects.

  “Thank you, Doc.” We stare at each other for a few seconds, both too caught up taking each other in.

  “You look…” He stops mid-sentence. “…beautiful.”

  I blush “Thanks. You look great too.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Evans. I came here straight from practice.”

  “In that case, you stink.”

  “I showered!” he argues, and I laugh.

  “Fine, you smell okay,” I tease. “Come in,” I say, taking a step back.

  He hands the balloons to me and sets down the flowers and what I think is a box of chocolates on the table closest to the door. “I smell freaking great,” he says, and to prove his point, he envelops me in a huge bear hug. I breathe him, confirming what I already know: he smells amazing, like comfort…like home.

  “Thanks,” he replies, and that’s when I realize I said all that out loud.

  Shit!

  “You should really keep your internal monologue… internal.”

  “It’s my birthday, so forget I said anything,” I reply, my face red.

  “I don’t think I’m ever going to forget you telling me I smell amazing.” He grins, his arms still wrapped tightly around me.

  I feel goosebumps spread over my body the longer we stand like this—the longer I’m in his arms. “We’re still hugging, you know?”

  “I… I know,” he says, making no effort to let go.

  I feel the air around us change—a different feeling, one I can’t describe. I’m afraid to think about it too hard though. “Err, you can let me go now,” I reply, trying to push out of his embrace.

  “What? Don’t want to keep inhaling my manly cologne?”

  “You’re too much!”

  With a chuckle, he releases me, and I take a step backwards. Immediately, I miss the closeness of his body.

  “I’m just enough,” he answers, and I shake my head.

  I paraphrase the quote from one of my favorite movies and say, “You’re killing me, Falcon.”

  His blue eyes focus on mine. “You’re saving me, Evans.”

  14

  The Move

  Zoe

  It’s a couple of weeks before the end of the summer, and my parents and I go to see Dr. Roman again. We’ve been going to the hospital every few weeks as instructed, but we had one more visit—the most important visit, the one that would confirm I could return to school in the Fall.

  Dr. Roman smiles at us as she walks into the room we’ve all been anxiously waiting in.

  “How are you, Zoe? Feeling well?” she asks.

  I nod, too frightened to speak.

  “She’s been just fine,” my mom says, answering for me like I’m a little girl again.

  The doctor looks at my parents briefly before fixing her attention on me. “I have some news, Zoe.”

  Her words make me take in a deep breath, and my mom reaches out to grasp my hand, squeezing it tightly.

  “You’re in complete remission.”

  For a moment, nobody says anything, the silence only broken by my mom’s unrestrained sob. I look over at her, seeing the tears glistening on her cheeks. My dad has his arm wrapped around her, his eyes also red. Despite the tears, I can see their happiness, can sense the weight that’s lifted from their shoulders. They’ve been given a second chance…we all have.

  “I know you’re excited, Zoe,” Dr. Roman says, “but you need to be aware that a relapse is always a possibility.”

  I nod again, the ability to speak not quite returning yet. I swallow. “But I don’t need any more chemotherapy, right?”

  “Right,” she replies with a smile. “And you could even think about returning to school if that was something you wanted to do.”

  “We can talk about that later,” my dad says, dismissing the idea altogether.

  Pressing my lips together, I say to Dr. Roman, “Thank you…for everything.”

  She stands up, straightening her white coat. “I’m not the one who did the fighting.” Reaching out, she squeezes my hand comfortingly. “Go home. Enjoy this moment with your parents.” Leaning in, sh
e adds in a conspiratory whisper, “Broach the topic of school when they’re relaxed. Have a decisive plan and stick to your guns, Zo. You got this.”

  I wait a week before having the conversation with my parents. I’d run through all the possible ways I could get them to come around to the idea of letting me move out and start living my life—the life I almost lost to cancer. Jesse helped me come up with a plan, and tonight is the night I tell them. Classes are about to start, and I don’t want to miss yet another first day.

  I walk downstairs, moving in the direction of the sound of the TV. I step into the room, clearing my throat.

  “Hey, sweetie,” my father says.

  Deep breath, Zoe. “Can I talk to you guys for a few minutes?” I ask, my voice breaking.

  “Is everything okay?” my mom asks as Dad mutes the television.

  “Yes, everything’s good. I just…” I pause and take a seat on the adjacent couch. I straighten my spine, trying to exude the courage I’ve work so hard to build this past week. “I want to go back to school this semester.”

  “This semester?” my mother asks.

  I nod. “School is about to start. I don’t want to lose another year.”

  “Zoe,” my father interjects. “I think we should be cautious and wait a little longer.”

  “I’ve waited long enough,” I fire back.

  He stares at me before saying, “Okay. Well, your mom and I will talk about it more. Maybe you can ease into it by taking a couple of classes this semester?”

  “I want to live on campus,” I add, even though they’ll disagree. I just hope I can persuade them to change their minds.

  Mom sits down next to me. “I don’t think it’s time yet,” she says.

  I know she’s fighting this because she doesn’t want to let me out of her sight. When I was diagnosed, she left her job and made taking care of me her first and only priority.

  I take her hand in my own. “I do, Mom. I want to. I’m ready.”

  Brushing some hair behind my ear, she says, “We can talk about it later. Let your dad and I discuss it more.”

  I look at my dad, who is still sitting on the couch to my right with a puzzled look on his face. “Dad, I really need to go back.”

  “Why now? Why not wait a little longer?”

  “So much time has gone by already. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

  “Sweetie, the doctor just cleared you. I think it makes sense to—” Mom chimes in from next to me.

  Before she can continue though, I say, “Mom, I know it’s hard, but it’s something I really want to do. Please understand where I’m coming from.”

  “Your dad and I will talk about it, and then we’ll discuss this again,” she says, effectively tabling the topic. Despite their protests, I know this is progress.

  “Want to watch this movie with us?” my dad asks, happy to change the subject.

  “Sure,” I tell him.

  I know I’ll get them to say yes. I need this. I’m confident I can get Mom on my side—it’s Dad I have to worry about.

  We join Dad on the couch, and I watch the movie, but my mind isn’t registering what’s actually happening. Instead, I’m thinking about what it will be like to return to Bragan—to be a student again.

  I can’t believe today is the day I move into my dorm room. My parents and I spoke with the admissions office, and they immediately approved my return to school. I’m sure my parents were hoping for a different answer, but it’s time.

  My mom lingers in my room, finally asking the question I know she’s been mulling over this whole time. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay here… alone?”

  “Honey, it’s time,” my dad says, carrying in the last box into the room and shutting the door behind him. Oddly enough, convincing my dad hadn’t been the hardest part—it was my mom. Then again, she did quit her job to care for me, so the thought of not seeing me every day is probably hitting her harder.

  I try to reassure her with a smile. “Mom, I’ll be okay. I’m a short drive from home.”

  “Remember that if you need something, call me. And if you feel even slightly unwell, call 911 and then call me.”

  “I know the drill, Mama. This isn’t the first time you’ve dropped me off at school,” I remind her, kissing her on the cheek.

  She looks at me adoringly. “This time is harder than the last.”

  “Let’s hope this time is better than the last. I’m only a ten-minute drive away,” I tell her, smiling yet still holding back tears. The truth is, I’m scared too, but I won’t admit that. It’s hard enough already.

  “You could always live at home and take classes on campus?” she insists.

  “The doctors said this would be okay. Dr. Roman said the treatment’s working and that I should be fine. She said I can live a normal life, Mom. This is part of me living a normal life.”

  Ignoring me, she says—almost desperately, “Robert, I don’t think she’s ready to be on her own yet.”

  My father’s rests his hands on her shoulders and says, “Dani, I don’t want her to stay here either, but we have to let her make her own choices.”

  “Yes, you do!” I chime in. “I stayed home for a full year of college. I want the full experience, so I’ve got to submerge myself in it, dorm living and all.”

  “Not the full college experience,” my dad corrects.

  I smile at them innocently. “Most of the typical college experiences.”

  “Some,” my dad fires back, causing my mom to smile and shake her head.

  The smile soon falters though. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, Zo?”

  “Yes, Mom. I’m done letting illness control my life. And if something comes up, I know what to do. Cancer has taken too much away from me; I don’t want to let it take any more.”

  My mother tears up as she moves towards me with open arms. “You are so strong, sweetheart.”

  I hug her back tightly. “You’ve taught me that, Mom—you and Dad. We’ve been fighting for my life for a year now. It’s time I get to live it, don’t you think?” I ask, discreetly wiping away the tears sliding down my face.

  “Yes, it is. You fought and kicked cancer’s ass. College will be a walk in the park in comparison.”

  I pull out of my mother’s embrace and wipe away her tears. “Okay, enough with the crying,” I tell them.

  “Danielle, it’s time to go.”

  My mother takes a deep breath. “Fine,” she says, giving me one more hug before standing next to my dad.

  “See you for Sunday lunches?” Dad asks, but I know it’s more of an expectation.

  “Always, Dad.”

  “You can bring Jesse too if you’d like?” my mother says with a devious smile. I could see my father visibly stiffen next to her.

  “I’ll think about it,” I reply with a smile.

  “Call me every day,” Mom adds before twisting the knob on the door.

  I smile coyly. “I will, and I’ll tell you all about the boys I meet and the parties I go to.”

  “Zoe Evans,” my dad says sternly.

  My mom smiles. “Very funny,” she says. I walk over to where they both stand and give them each a hug goodbye, then close the door behind them. I know today is very emotional for all of us, but I think in a weird way it’s also a relief. I mean, we’re all going back to a normal routine.

  I’m here.

  I’m alive.

  I’m a normal college student. There’s got to be some joy in that.

  School isn’t a place I saw myself going back to, and while I know my parents hoped I would, they didn’t know either. This step? It’s monumental for us, despite the fact that it scares the hell out of me.

  I will be okay though.

  I look out the window and see the quad right below me. There are students sitting on the grass with books in their hands. At the other end, I count a group of five students playing Frisbee, tossing it back and forth and laughing. Students are everywhere—just like I remember—exce
pt this time, I taking it all in. I’m stopping to smell the roses, as they say, because I didn’t know what I had until it was ripped away from me.

  I grab my cell phone from the study table at my end of the room and type out a quick message to Jesse, letting him know I’m here.

  This place just got a lot better.

  I grin like an idiot.

  This year is going to be great.

  Bragan University, I’m back.

  15

  The Roommate

  Zoe

  The distinct sound of jingling keys, followed by the twisting and turning of a doorknob, causes me to open my eyes and sit up immediately. I look around for my phone, my eyes adjusting to the light coming from the window.

  The keys rattle a little more before the door bursts open and a blonde girl wearing glasses walks in.

  “I’m so sorry!” the girl exclaims, dragging in a suitcase after her.

  Pulling my blanket towards me, I ask, “Can I help you?”

  “Uh, I don’t think so,” she responds, looking around the room. I clutch the blanket a little closer, wondering why there’s someone in my room this early in the morning.

  “My name’s Emma,” she says, extending her hand to me.

  I blink, immobile for a moment. “Hi, Emma. I’m Zoe,” I say, shaking her hand cautiously.

  When I realize she isn’t going to let go of my hand, I pull mine back. “Crap, I—sorry,” she says, finally looking chagrinned. “I probably should’ve started by saying I’m your roommate. Sorry if I woke you up.”

  Of course she’s my roommate! I think. Why else would she have a key? “No worries. I should’ve already been up by now,” I say, yawning. I’m surprised I slept this much. I was prepared to have a sleepless night, being in a new place and all, but I guess I was wrong.

  “Are you a freshman?” I ask, hoping she isn’t. Freshmen tend to be kids whose biggest worry is how they can become popular, and I’m not up for that.