My heart thudded painfully as I spun around and rushed away from the kitchen doorway, practically running for the front door.  Those four words, those four damning words, echoed through my head, my entire being.  I couldn’t think straight.  I could barely breathe.  All I knew was that I had to get out.  I had to get out of the house.

Footsteps sounded from behind me, and I heard someone shout my name.  But I barely heard them.  Those four words took over me, blocking everything else out.  Nothing else mattered but those words and how they applied to the one that I loved.

I threw open the front door and pounded down the porch.  Tears that I hadn’t even realized were present were trickling down my cheeks, making my nose stuffed up.  But what did that matter?  A stuffy nose wasn’t going to change anything, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to make anything better.  It was pointless, only adding to the list of things that made this the shittiest day of my life.

I was nearing Dannon’s car now.  I kept moving, my eyes trained on the ground.  What was I going to do?  It wasn’t like I could hop into Dannon’s car and drive off.  But I couldn’t bear to go back inside, to pretend everything was okay when it sure as hell wasn’t.  Why?  Why would Dannon hide something like this from me?  Why didn’t he tell me from the beginning?  Didn’t he trust me at all?

Someone grabbed me from behind and slammed me into Dannon’s car.  I gasped in surprise.  Dannon’s eyes pierced mine for a short second before he crashed his lips into mine.

This wasn’t one of our usual short and sweet kisses.  This was long, passionate.  I was lost, melted in Dannon’s arms.  In the back of my mind I knew that I needed to pull away, to push him off.  We had to talk, and we had to talk now.  But, as Dannon’s lips moved against mine, I couldn’t bring myself to push him away.

Dannon’s hand caressed my cheek, the other wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me toward him.  My hands roamed through his hair, curling it into my fits and tugging at it slightly.  I had no idea why my hands were pulling his hair, but they were.  It was like they were moving on their own.  Dannon didn’t seem to notice.  He pushed me harder into the car, holding onto me like if he let go, I would be gone forever.

“Dannon,” I breathed.  I found the strength to push him back slightly.  Not only did we have a crisis on our hands, but I was out of air.  “Dannon, we need to talk.”

Dannon pulled away, his eyes wide— like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.  He detached himself from me and pulled open the driver’s door of his car.  His eyes refused to meet mine as he said, “Get in.”

I sniffled, rounding around the car and getting into the passenger seat.  Dannon silently started the car, and then we were off, riding down the road.

The silence was deafening.

I tried to open my mouth and speak, to say something, but nothing came out.  Tears burned in my eyes again, ready to join the already drying tears on my cheeks.  I wasn’t going to let them spill, though.  Not now.  Not when Dannon looked as though he was about to break.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered finally.        

Dannon didn’t answer at first.  He turned onto another road, his jaw working.  His face was expressionless, but I could see past it.  Turmoil swirled within those beautiful blue eyes of his.  “I couldn’t find the strength to burden you with this,” he said, barely glancing at me from the road.

Burden?  He thought that something this important was a burden?  “Dannon Barone,” I whispered fiercely, “if you ever keep something so important from me again, I will kill you.  Understand?”

It was hard to pull through with that sentence, to say something that I would usually say when I was pissed off when someone hid something from me.  The word “kill” reminded me of death.  And death reminded me of how I only had three months, three small months, left with Dannon.

Dannon struggled to smile.  “I’m sorry.”

“What is it?”

Dannon seemed confused.  “What is what?”

“What is it?” I demanded again, my voice rising a little in despair.  “What is it that’s killing you?”

Dannon bit his lip.  “Cancer.”

My mind flashed to A Walk to Remember, to Keith.  Both movies of teenagers with cancer, both movies with unhappy endings.  The tears were threatening to overflow now.  “How long have you had it?” I asked thickly.

“I was diagnosed a couple of years ago,” Dannon answered, his grip tight on the wheel.  “It wasn’t until seven months ago that I was told that I had a year to live.  If I’m lucky.”

I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to nod.  “So, the falling asleep thing. . . .”

“I’ve always had a bad habit of falling asleep,” Dannon murmured, a small, sad smile tugging on his lips.  “That’s why my dad brought me into the hospital in the first place.  He thought I might have narcolepsy or something.  But, it turned out, I didn’t have narcolepsy.  I had—” He swallowed, shaking his head.  “Anyway, despite the fact that falling asleep a lot and being a really deep sleeper, the doctors said that I’m gradually going to get weaker and weaker.  It’s predicted that I’m going to go in a coma and never wake up.”

My lips began to tremble.  How could he be so casual about this?  How could he sit there talking about his death in such a calm voice?  The answer came with a sickening realization: he’d accepted it a long time ago.

“It’s like in the book Sort of Forever,” Dannon murmured.  “I read it when I was younger, when I was still healthy.  My dad doesn’t know that I’ve read it.  It was in his closet with my mom’s things.

“Anyway, in the book, the girl, Nana, has cancer.  She steadily grows tired, weaker, until her body crumples all together and she falls into a coma.  Her friend, Cady, sticks with her until the end.”

I stared straight forward.  I knew that book.  I read it when I was in elementary school for a book report.  I didn’t give it any thought for years.  But now the plot seemed to mock me with its similarity to the situation I was in now.

“Dannon,” I whispered.

“Yes?”

I sighed shakily, turning to face him.  “Why are you always smiling?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard.  His jaw clenched, and his fingers tightened around the steering wheel.  For a second I thought that he was going to slam on the breaks, but he didn’t.  “My dad always told me about how my mom was always smiling despite the fact that she had something killing her from inside,” Dannon said softly, his eyes trained on the road.  “He told me that she was strong, that she didn’t let other around her drown in unneeded sorrow.”  He turned and smiled sadly at me.  “What’s the point of brooding and making your loved ones miserable?  We’re all living on a set time, right?”

At this, a single tear slid down my cheek.  A single tear.  Dannon reached over and wiped it away.  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice one notch of a whisper.

It was silent for another long moment.  I stared out the window, trying to take in all this information, to absorb it.  Just an hour ago Dannon was invincible.  I never thought that something this horrible could be brewing within him, devouring him—literally—from the inside.

“Did your mom have cancer?” I asked after a long while.  “Is that why you dodged when I asked?”

“Yeah, she did,” Dannon answered softly.

“And when I asked if you had any secrets.  You didn’t really answer that either.”

Dannon sighed.  “I wasn’t going to lie to you, but I wasn’t going to just say, ‘Oh yeah, my biggest secret is that I’m dying.  I’m sorry, forgot to tell you that.’  I may seem strong to you, but I’m telling you this: I’m weaker than hell.”

He wasn’t, though.  If he was weak, he’d be screaming at God for doing this to him, for damning him to such an early death.  He would be complaining, wishing this fate on someone other than himself.  But he wasn’t.  He’d accepted it and chose to act upon it in a good way.  He was cherishing his final days.

I could barely handle the tears now.  My eye felt like fire, like if I didn’t cry now they were going to burn out of my skull.  I silently cursed myself.  I didn’t want to cry.  I didn’t want to break down in front of Dannon.  He didn’t deserve that.  He was so strong for me and everyone else.  I owed it to him to be the same way, right?

Silence lapsed again.  I tried to think of something else—anything else—but I couldn’t.  The thoughts of Dannon’s death consumed me, threatening to swallow me whole.  I glanced at Dannon, not understanding.  He looked so healthy.  He looked normal, like the Dannon that I’d fallen for.  Invincible.  Loving.  Caring.  Alive. 

Dannon, seemingly unable to take the silence anymore, whispered, “Say something, Bri.”

I sighed shakily.  I couldn’t.  I couldn’t do it anymore.  The waterworks were coming, and they were impossible to fight.  “You know,” I said, my voice thicker than I’d ever heard it before, “how I said that I wouldn’t cry if you died?  I lied, Dannon.  I lied.”

In an instant, tears were dribbling down my cheeks before I could stop them.  Dannon looked over at me for a short moment before pulling over to the side of the road.  I looked up at him, my gaze blurry as he unbuckled his seatbelt and threw his door open.  I sniffled, trying to keep my tears at bay.  I’d cry—it was too late to take the tears back.  But I would not unleash an entire meltdown.  No.  I’d keep myself in check.

I had to.  I had to for Dannon.

I covered my mouth with my hand, struggling to keep the tears at bay.  Dannon was rounding the front of the Saturn now.  I kept my eyes on him, willing myself to calm down.  But it wasn’t working.  I couldn’t stop crying. 

Dannon opened my door and unbuckled my seat belt.  And then he was hugging me, his arms wrapping tightly around me.  I hugged him back, my head digging into his shoulder as I cried.  Dannon brought a comforting hand through my hair, cooing into my ear.  I clung to him tighter, not ever wanting to let go.  It felt like if I let go then he would be gone.  And then I’d never get him back.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered into my ear, his arms tightening around me.  “It’ll be okay.”

I gulped down another cry, feeling like I was choking.  I concentrated on Dannon, his arms around me and his hand going through my hair.  Those things comforted me despite everything going on.  If I could concentrate on that, maybe I’d be able to stop crying.  It was a long shot, I knew it was, but I had to try.

I breathed deeply, willing the tears to stop flowing.  I could cry when I got home.  I could cry in my bedroom behind a closed door.  But crying now would only make Dannon feel worse.  He already felt like this was a burden—and I was proving just that.  Crying was not going to help anyone here.  Not right now.

Something in my mind must have clicked, because the tears stopped running down my face.  I could still feel them in the back of my eyes, and I still wanted to bawl my eyes out.  But I’d gotten them contained.  For now.

Despite the fact that I stopped crying, I continued to cling to Dannon, not quite ready to let go.  He didn’t seem ready to let go either, for his arms stayed around me, his hand moving from my hair to rub circles on my back.  I let out a long, shaky breath.  “I’m okay,” I whispered, knowing that he would see through the lie.  “I’m okay.”

I felt Dannon nod as he continued to rub circles on my back.  I dug my head further into his shoulder blade, closing my eyes.  He was so warm.  That was all I could bring myself to think.  That he was warm.  So, so warm.

Dannon pulled away slightly, his arms still wrapped around me as his eyes searched my face.  In the back of my mind I wondered what he was looking for.  Was there a certain emotion he was looking for in my eyes?  Was he searching for something that showed that I was, in fact, okay?  Whether he found what he was looking for or not, I wasn’t sure.  But he sighed, pulling away from me completely.  He brought his hands up to my cheeks, wiping away the drying tears.  He smiled sadly.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

I struggled to smile back.  “Don’t be,” I mumbled, my voice sounding weak even to my own ears.  “It’s not your fault.”

Dannon grimaced, as though he didn’t believe me, and nodded before pulling away.  I bit my lip, resisting the urge to beg him to come back, to hug me again.  I didn’t know why but it felt like he was doing more than pulling away.  It felt like I was losing grip on him forever.  It was a ridiculous thought, of course, seeing how he was standing right in front of me.  But the thought was still there, and it was searing me from the inside.

It was silent the rest of the way home.  Neither of us seemed able to bring up the conversation again.  I leaned my head on the window, closing my eyes.  All I could see was a gravestone.  A gravestone marked with Dannon’s name.

The car pulled a stop in front of my house.  For a moment I just stared out at my yard blankly, but then I forced myself into a sitting position and wiped my eyes; two tears had fallen down my cheeks before I could stop them.  I sat there for a long moment, waiting for Dannon to say something.  But he wasn’t saying anything.  He was staring past me, at my house.  I sighed, turning to the door.  “Bye,” I mumbled.

“Brianne,” Dannon called softly as I was about to pull the door open.  I paused, waiting for him to continue.  “You’re—you’re not going to leave me, right?”

It was like a bullet had shot straight through my heart.  His voice was trembling, weak with fear that I was going to desert him now that I knew.  I turned slowly, my eyes narrowing.  “If you think that,” I drew out, leaning forward and resting my forehead against his, “then you don’t know me at all.”

With that, I gave him a swift kiss before hopping out of the car.  I hurried to the trunk and swiftly grabbed my duffel bag from the ski trip.  After slamming the trunk shut I dragged myself toward the front door of my house, the weight of my bag and the weight of my heart keeping me from walking fast.

I opened the front door and shuffled in, letting my bag drop carelessly to the floor.  I kicked off my shoes and stomped toward the stairs, the tears I’d fought so hard to contain threatening to emerge again.  But I couldn’t cry.  I refused to cry in front of my family.  They didn’t need to know about Dannon yet.  Not until I calmed down.

“Brianne, is that you?” my mom called from the kitchen.

I didn’t answer.  I pounded into the living room, my hands clenched into fists.  The strength that I possessed to contain my despair was dwindling swiftly—more swiftly than I would have thought.  At this rate I wasn’t even going to make it to my room.

“Brianne?”

My mom appeared, wiping her hands on her jeans.  I barely cast her a glance as I reached the stairs and ran up them.  Great.  Now that she saw me I was going to have less time to get my emotions out.  I wasn’t going to be questioned before I was ready.  I couldn’t.

“Brianne, what’s wrong?”

Someone said something else, but I was gone, disappearing into my room.  The door slammed behind me.  It gave me great satisfaction to see the mirror on it shake.  A part of me wanted it to fall and shatter on the ground.

I threw myself onto my bed, letting the tears fall freely now.  They came heavily, soaking my face, my pillow, my hair.  I screamed and punched my pillow, wanting nothing more than to destroy everything.  I sat up and chucked the pillow across the room, screaming in anger and despair as it collided with my bureau, knocking random things onto the floor.  In my mind, they were like Dannon’s body, losing the strength to stand.

“Why?” I screeched hoarsely, glaring up at the ceiling.  “Why?”

I hopped up from my bed and threw myself at my wall, pounding on it over and over again.  I barely noticed the pain, however.  What did it matter?  One of my best friends was dying.  He had a monster eating him from the inside.  The pain that I felt could not possibly compare to what Dannon was fighting every single day.

“Why him?” I hollered at the top of my lungs.  “Why Dannon?  Why, God, why?”

I fell to the floor, my arms looping around my legs as I cried.  “Why not me?” I wept.  “Why not me?”

My bedroom door opened.  I ignored it, continuing to sob as though I was alone.  The next thing I knew arms were around me, holding me tight.  I instantly knew that it was Garrett who’d come in.  He’d probably known that this was something much worse than a girly tantrum.  He’d sensed that something horrible was going on.  And I loved that about Garrett.  That I could always count on him to be here when I had no one else.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, bringing a hand through my hair.  “What’s wrong, Brianne?”

I leaned into him, screaming as I cried.  The pain was excruciating.  My stomach felt as though it was going to burst, my hand I’d used to hit the wall felt as though it was going to fall off, and worst of all, my heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces. 

“D-D-D-Dan-n-n-n-on,” I struggled out through my tears.

Garrett’s voice was so soft that I almost didn’t hear it.   “Dannon what?”

“H-h-h-he’s—he’s—he’s—he’s—”

I couldn’t get the words out.  Every time I tried, the tears fell harder, making me lost in misery.  Garrett was patient, though, holding me and cooing comforting things in my ear.  I gulped, trying to let air in.  My nose was as stuffed as hell, and the screams weren’t really helping any oxygen get in.

Finally, the words escaped my lips before my brain had any time to stop them.  “Dannon’s dying.”

Garrett tensed, but his arms didn’t leave.  He hugged me tighter, resting his head on top of mine.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “I’m so sorry.”

We sat there like that for a long time, hugging.  By the time I was through, Garrett’s shirt was more soaked than I’d ever thought possible.  He didn’t seem to mind—or even notice.  He just rubbed my back, murmuring, “It’ll be okay,” over and over again.  He and I both knew that he was lying.  How could everything possibly be okay?

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, wiping my eyes as the waterworks came to a halt.  I glanced at my alarm clock.  Wow.  I’d cried for over an hour.  “I—I think I ruined your shirt.”

Garrett smiled slightly.  “It’s all right.”  He paused.  “I’m sorry, but can I ask. . . ?”

“Cancer,” I whispered, the word sounding foreign on my tongue.  Sure, I’d said the word many times before.  I mean, when you were ranting about a chick flick because of a shitty ending, you had to mention the exact reason why it was shitty, right?  But this was different.  This was—this was real.

“I’m never watching A Walk to Remember again,” Garrett muttered instantly as though he wasn’t thinking before he said it.  I didn’t mind.  I was relieved that I wasn’t going to have to walk in on him watching that ridiculous chick flick and think of Dannon’s condition.

“What am I going to do?”  Tears burned again, but I refused to shed them.  I’d done enough crying.  For now.

“You’re going to love and support him no matter what happens.”  Garrett squeezed me tightly.  “That’s what the Brianne I know and love would do.”

I sighed shakily, shaking Garrett’s arms off of me and standing up.  Garrett stood up as well, watching me skeptically.  He was waiting for me to break down and bawl again, I