4:29 AM. That’s what time is displayed on the clock that sits upon the end table as I stare up at the ceiling of my room. I tried burying my face back into my pillow and shutting my eyes tightly, but I can’t seem to fall back asleep. It’s too early to be up, yet my body disagrees. Fucking jetlag had us all exhausted last night, so we wound up crashing pretty early. Now, I’m up way too early.

My eyes began wondering around the fancily decorated room. There’s potted plants in every corner, throw pillows that were once on the bed and are now scattered around the floor, a dresser, a sofa, a matching loveseat, a coffee table, and a large mocha brown rug that sits under the coffee table. The honeydew colored walls are occupied with different abstract pictures of flowers and other plants which are all framed. Both the coffee table and the end table have lace tablecloths with floral patterns in it. It’s a pretty nice room…for a girl. Seriously. Even the bed has some sort of vine design on it.

The wall color reminded me of the armchair my therapist sat in during the one session I attended. I don't regret quitting therapy because it could take me years to heal from this pain, and I don't have years. I don't have time to be fixed.

Last night, I really wanted to go talk to that girl in the aqua bikini, but I was too tired. Well, that’s what I told the boys. In reality, I just wasn’t sure how I should approach her. I’m so used to just hooking up with girls, but I don’t want to do that this time around. The thing is, I don’t know how to approach a girl any differently. I've been in relationships before, but those girls were the ones taking matters into their own hands. One of those guys could’ve been her boyfriend anyways. A girl like that should have a boyfriend.

I threw my covers off of me and lazily shuffled my feet towards the coffee table. I sat down on the couch and picked up the piece of paper that sits on the table. My eyes roamed the familiar blue ink that forms the words of my bucket list. I smiled at the fact that two things are already crossed out:

1) Travel to the U.S.

3) Throw a rager

What’s next? Hm. Well since we’re already going by odd numbers, might as well do number five on the list:

5) When life hands you lemons

I shrugged to myself as I thought, Works for me.

I set the paper back onto the table and stood up to rummage through my suitcase for my laptop which I had remembered last minute to safely cushion between my piles of clothes before heading to the airport.

I decided to take it with me to the kitchen since I’m starved and could use some toast or something. I placed the laptop onto the cold tile of the counter and pressed the power button before focusing my attention on the cabinets. They have to have food here, right? Like, why have so many cabinets and a refrigerator, and not fill it?

I opened one cabinet and found it filled with pots and pans. Another was filled with cups and mugs. Another was filled with a salad spinner, a measuring cup, a bowl, and a toaster. That’s a fucking random mixture of stuff. Two other cabinets were filled with things like peanut butter, cereals, cans of soup, and side dishes. All of the other cabinets are empty, and the drawers are just filled with silverware, a pizza cutter, a can opener, knives, and other kitchen utensils.

I looked into the refrigerator to find it loaded with foods. There’s so much to choose from, and I know that once Niall sees this, everything will be gone. There’s even loads of beverages, including alcohol which I’m pretty sure most of us aren’t legally allowed to drink in this country. I also checked the freezer to find all sorts of frozen foods from waffles to pizzas. They have many flavors of ice cream in here as well.

So basically, they have everything but bread. There’s a toaster, peanut butter, and sandwich meat, but no bread. What is this shit?

I finally settled on a tub of key lime pie flavored yogurt and pulled out a spoon before walking back over to my laptop. My screensaver makes me smile a little. It’s a picture of the lads, Ada, and I that my mum had taken while we were standing in front of the London Eye. I remember that day so well, but that might be since it was about a month before the accident.

We had this big get-together where all of our parents tagged along with us, and we took a stroll around London. That was also the day Ada had insisted on wearing this dress that she felt really uncomfortable in. She didn’t like how it showed a lot of cleavage, and it was “the color of pee,“ as she’d put it, but she was so damn set on wearing it. I kept teasing her for even being in a dress since it’s not really her style to be girly.

We were all supposed to take this really nice picture in front of the Ferris wheel that our parents were determined to take, but we decided to piss them off instead. We started off by draping our arms around each other’s shoulders, but before our families could snap any pictures, we all started goofing off. This is one of those pictures.

The smiling Zayn had Niall in a headlock while Niall had his arms wrapped around Zayn’s leg and shot the camera an angry expression. Lou and I were shielding each other’s mouths and crotches from the camera as we gave innocent looks to our parents. Liam, this should be a shocker, was just standing in the middle of us all with a smile on his face. Lastly, Ada stood off to the side and had her head thrown back as she laughed at our poses, clapping her hands at her idiot friends.

God, I’d give anything to go back to that day.

“Hey,” I heard a groggy voice greet me.

I looked up from the screen to see Zayn standing in the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Hey. What are you doing up?”

“Jetlag,” he shrugged. Right. Stupid question. “Are you up because of…” he ended his sentence by pointing at his head, asking if my destructive brain is to blame. At this point, I’m just used to all of these questions. It may still be irritating, but I’m used to it.

I sighed and nonchalantly replied, “No. I’m up for the same reason as you. This,” I pointed to my head, “will only make me drowsier, but not all the time.”

“Ah,” he nodded in realization. He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water before joining me at the counter. “What are you doing?”

“Looking up places around here that we can get t-shirts made.” I pulled up Google Maps to search for one, and we found out that there’s actually a t-shirt shop down the street. Then, we looked up where a local grocery store is, so we could buy lemons.

By the time we were finished with that, Liam and Louis were in the kitchen with us. They all joined me in eating yogurt since we figured we’d go out to breakfast in a while. The four of us all chatted about our plans for while we’re here. Louis said he really wants to learn how to surf. The thought of him even trying something like that had us all in laughing fits. Zayn wants to check out all of the rides on the boardwalk which I would definitely love to do as well. Liam just says he wants to check the shops out. Leave it to him to pick the lamest thing to do.

“Okay, so Harry,” Louis knocked his knuckles against the counter to gain my attention. “So, you know my buddy Ed?” I nodded.

Ed is this really cool guy who used to work at a cinema with Lou. He’d hang out with us occasionally, and I have to say, he fit into our group perfectly. We had this hobby of watching him crush cans on his head. It was fascinating how he can do it without wincing in pain. Then, once high school finished, Ed wound up moving to the States for college. We were all pretty bummed by that.

“Well, he performs at a café that’s in this town, so I asked him to pull a few strings for us. He got you a gig there.”

“That’s great,” Liam beamed and patted my back.

“Yeah, thanks,” I forced a smile upon my face. I know I agreed to this shit, but I really don’t want to do it. I’m so nervous. I’ve never sung in front of anyone other than my friends and family, and performing in front of an audience of strangers just sounds so intimidating. I just need to prepare myself for this.

“And it’s tonight!” Louis shouted, and the other guys joined him with exaggerated cheers. Tonight? So much for preparing myself…

After talking for a few hours about what song I’d sing at the café and what we’ll be doing today, we all finally went to our rooms to shower and get ready for the day. I stopped in Niall’s bedroom along the way because it seems he hasn’t come out yet.

I knocked and walked in without waiting for an answer as revenge for him doing that to me so much at the flat. “Hey,” I smiled at the Irish lad who’s just lying across his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Are you okay?” I asked after he didn’t say anything.

He nodded his head slightly against his pillow, “Yeah. Just tired.”

“Did we wake you up?”

“Nah,” he finally smiled and propped himself onto his elbows to look at me. “I’ve been up for a while.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t go raid the cabinets for food then,” I teased.

He shrugged, “Who says I still won’t?”

“You won’t because we’re gonna go get breakfast.”

“So? I’ll still be hungry.”

His statement had me laughing as I walked back over to the door. “Hurry up, and get ready then.”

“Okay, and Harry?”

“Huh?” I looked over my shoulder at him. I noticed an emotion flash across his face that I’ve never seen him wear before. I found my full body facing him as I tried to decipher what it is he’s feeling.

“Uh,” he shook the emotion away and smiled lightly at me. “I’m really glad you’re doing this. You know, the bucket list. Not just for you, but also because we get this chance to spend the time we have left with you.”

I was taken aback a little about his honesty. Not because he’s being so honest. I mean, Niall is always honest. It’s just that it’s the first time one of the guys have said something boldly about my cancer. Adding to that, Niall is smiling genuinely at me without a hint of sympathy being shown anywhere in his expression.

I smiled appreciatively at him, “Thanks, Bro. And Ni, I’m really glad you came.”

“Me too.”

---

After eating breakfast at a small restaurant down the street, the lads and I walked to the t-shirt shop. Luckily, they had plenty of plain bright-ass yellow shirts we could choose from. Each of us got different styles: Zayn got a crew neck shirt, Lou’s shirt has a V-neck, Liam got a muscle tank after minutes of convincing him to, and I got a regular tank top. Niall’s is the only shirt that’s got white on it, but it’s a baseball styled one where it’s all white and the sleeves are yellow, so it works for me.

We took it up to the cashier and asked if he could print the word “LIFE” on the front of all our shirts in bold black lettering. As he did what we asked, he stated that they were actually have a sale where if you bought three shirts, you get one free. I took him up on that offer, grabbed a shirt like Niall’s, and had him print “LIFE” on it as well. I’ll wear it, so why not?

Our next stop was the grocery store. Of course, we had to walk a long ways before we finally got there. Usually, being on foot isn’t a big deal to me, and I know for damn sure that I’m not out of shape. It’s just that this tumor had me exhausted within a few minutes of walking. I felt like I had just hiked up a mountain after only walking a few yards on a flat sidewalk. I had to stop a few times and lean against a building to catch my breath. I don’t want to overdo it. My mother would kill me before the cancer could if I pushed my body too much.

The poor lads. I must be a lot for them to handle. What if this trip is a bad thing? I mean, I’m putting a lot of responsibility on them. They’ll need to help me when I can’t even help myself, and what if that gets to be too much? I don’t mean to be a burden.

Finally, we reached the store. Since we thought it’d be funny, we decided to change into our “LIFE” shirts to buy the lemons like that. Life would be buying lemons.

Luckily, Zayn brought a duffle bag for us to store our clothing in, and his camera is in there as well. He wants to record the memories of this trip which is an excellent idea. I know my mum would love to see what we did.

We walked straight to the produce area and grabbed those clear plastic bags that you’re supposed to store the fruit and vegetables in. We each took two bags, and crammed as many lemons as we could in them without ripping the bag. Some people were giving us weird looks as we did this, but we just smiled and waved at them.

As Liam and Louis finished up with their bags, I snuck away to get one more, very important, item. I met back up with them at the cash register and placed the lemons and the bread on the conveyor belt. Niall shot me a weird look once he saw the bread.

“What? We needed bread,” I defended myself, and he laughed.

“What do you mean we can’t take all of the lemons?” Zayn scoffed at the cashier lady that’s obnoxiously chewing her gum. “We’re paying for all of them.”

She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight to one leg, “It’ll be out of stock, and if we don’t have lemons, some customers may leave.”

“But we’re paying you,” Zayn said slowly. “You're willing to turn away paying customers over lemons? If I was stealing them, I’d see your point. I could steal them if that's what you want.”

“Okay,” Liam laughed nervously and stood in front of Zayn. “If we didn’t buy a bag or two, would that be okay?”

“Goody-Two-Shoes,” I coughed into my hand, and the other three lads started snickering.

The cashier nodded, “Yes, that’d be better. Thank you.”

“See, Zayn? You just need to compromise,” Liam smiled and patted his back.

“The only thing I need to compromise is that I’m going to kick your ass later,” Zayn muttered. “You’re paying for the lemons.”

“And the bread,” I added.

---

We finally found a busy street that we thought would be fun to hand the lemons out at. After giving me a good ten minutes of rest, Zayn pulled out his video camera, and the other lads and I each grabbed a bag of lemons. We spread out along the street and we figured Zayn would walk back and forth between us all, and Zayn said he’d carry the duffle bag around with him in case we need more lemons. And thus it began.

“Make lemonade.”

“Take a bad situation, and make it a good one.”

“Brighten up someone’s day.”

“First they’re sour, then they’re sweet. Just kidding. That’s Sour Patch Kids.”

These were all things we’d say as we handed the lemons out. Many teenagers would record our every actions as they giggled about how silly we are. They really enjoyed when Lou and I were having a juggling contest. I was definitely happy Zayn caught it on camera since I won.

We did this for a long time, only handing out lemons to people who we felt like needed a smile. Two particular people stood out to me as they passed by. A teenage couple was fighting, and the guy was trying to walk away from her as she tried to confront him.

“I saw you, Jacob! You were all over her!” she shouted. I felt myself frown at her words. How could a guy be so cruel to a girl? I’ve always been down to help a girl get revenge on an ex, but I was never one to help cheat. I don’t even get why people cheat. What do they gain from such a hurtful act? Guilt? An ex? Someone who thinks poorly of them? Someone new who will think they’ll get cheated on by them too? It’s such a foolish thing to do.

“Maybe you should take that as a sign that I want to break up!” he spat back. What a dick.

She stood there, completely horrified, as he walked off. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. I can only imagine what it feels like to be cheated on since I’ve never been deceived like such within my two past relationships, but I know it has to feel dreadful. She probably thinks there’s something wrong with her or something? He’s a fool. She’s a pretty girl.

I found myself walking over to her with the bag of lemons in my hand. I don’t really know what to say to her. I mean, I’ve never been the greatest at consoling people. I gave her a weak smile and pulled a lemon out of my bag to hand it to her, “Take a bad situation, and turn it around.”

“Oh come on,” a girl groaned from behind me. I turned around to face the stranger, only to find a familiar face. It’s the girl from the beach. Only this time, she stands in front of me looking even more beautiful than I remember.

Instead of a bathing suit, she’s wearing a silky white shirt, black leather skinnies, and black high heel boots. Her arms are crossed, making me notice the skinny watch on her wrist and her sky blue painted nails. Her mahogany brown hair that fades into a golden blonde rests in light waves on one of her shoulders.

She rolls her hazel eyes at me as she continues what she’s saying, “That’s the best you can do? Give her a lemon, and tell her to find light in this situation?”

“Uh.” I can’t even speak, and this time, my tumor isn’t to blame. I just can’t seem to find the words.

She shakes her head and grabs the lemon from the teenage girl, “Where’s the bimbo he groped?” The teen points to the direction she and her boyfriend, well ex, had come from. “Let’s go get the Shit Face first.”

She takes the girls hand and they start walking after the ex. I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to follow or not, but after a few seconds of hesitation, I was trailing after them.

We finally found the douchebag a few blocks from where we were, and the brunette turned to me, “If the guy refuses to come with me, I’ll need you to help me drag him with us. Got it?” As confused as I was, I just nodded.

She left the teen standing by me and walked over to the ex. I watched her glare at him before grabbing his hand and pulling him behind her. He was too busy being impressed by the gesture he was receiving and the view of her bum to realize he was now passing his ex and I. The brunette raised her lemon filled hand in the air and curled her index finger as if she were telling us to follow her.

Once we got around to where the breakup went down, the girl came to a halt and turned towards us. Of course, she had to lean around the guy to speak to the teen, “Where’s the whore?”

The guy finally turned around and saw his ex standing next to me. He shot her a look of annoyance and said, “Really? You can’t just get over it?” Wow. Could he be any more of a fucking cunt?

“She’s at the clothing shop a couple buildings down,” the teen seethed through her teeth.

The brunette tried yanking his hand to have him follow her, but he pulled it away. “Are you serious? You want me to go back there? Did you like the show or something?” Okay, I’ve had enough of listening to his mouth run.

I towered over him, “Why don’t you just shut the fuck up, and come with us before my fist meets your face? Okay?” He was trembling as he looked up at me and nodded. “Good.”

“Wow,” the brunette smirked. “Curly speaks, and he’s actually got some balls.” Hearing that nickname was like receiving a slap in the face. Ada. Yet again, I’ve forgotten about her since last night. I can’t believe her memory keeps slipping my mind. Guilt washes through me at the thought of her being erased from every thought and every image in my brain.

The three of them don’t seem to notice my pained expression as they head towards the clothing store, and yet again, I hesitated to follow after her. I don’t think I could handle having the brunette call me Curly again, but I don’t want that to be a reason to just ignore the girl and go on with my day.

We finally reach a clothing store, and the four of us enter it. The teenage girl points to a tall Barbie looking girl. When I say Barbie, I mean she is all plastic. Why would he want to cheat on a pretty girl with that?

“Hey, Princess,” the brunette calls to Barbie. Barbie’s eyes widen, but she approaches us anyways. “Okay, so here’s the thing. You,” she points to the guy, “cheated on such a beautiful and sweet girl with someone who practically lives on Botox. Are you stupid?”

She turned to me and opened the bag that I held, grabbing one more lemon to add to the other one she’s still holding. She smirked and placed the two lemons into Barbie’s hands, “Stuff them in your bra, and try to make your boobs look bigger. With horribly lopsided and fake boobs like that, you need all the help you can get.”

The teenage girl and I started snickering at Barbie’s shocked expression. The brunette turns back to me and grabs another lemon from my bag. This time, she puts the lemon in the bloke’s hand, “Lemons clean everything. It’s the greatest disinfectant.” Barbie’s surprise grew more at the girl’s words.

“And for you,” the brunette smiled at the teen. She pulled another lemon out of my bag and gave me an amused smile, “Instead of ‘taking a bad situation and turning it around’,” she turns to the teen and hands her the lemon, “just squirt someone in the eye.”

Clapping was heard from behind us, and the source just so happened to be from the lads. The brunette smiled at the noise and bowed, “Thank you, thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”

Zayn started laughing and pointed to his camera, “I recorded every second of that.”

“You’ll have to send it to me, so I can put it on my résumé,” the brunette joked.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Priya.”

“Well Priya, how would you like to hand out more lemons with us?”

“I’d be honored.”

---

I wound up letting Priya use the extra “LIFE” shirt I had gotten which was too big for her, so she had to use a hair tie to hold it up securely around her waist. The sleeves are baggy and long on her arms, but she seems to pay no mind to them whatsoever.

This time, Priya was much nicer to the people she wound up passing lemons to. She’d steal my line, “take a bad situation and turn it around,” along with my Sour Patch Kids line. She also took off her boots and skipped up and down the sidewalk to compliment people on the things they were wearing or they’re hairstyles. She and the lads are getting along so well too. In fact, she’s already been teasing Liam for his dullness. He’s just handing people the lemons and saying, “Have a good day.” He’s no fun.

Eventually, we ran out of lemons, and my aching body was craving a nap, but I didn’t want this time with Priya to end. I could listen to her laugh for hours, or even just her voice, really. Liam mentioned that she’s like a female version of me because she’s sweet but likes to tease people. Her spirit and glee is something I need in my life right now. I want to know this girl.

“It was really nice meeting you all,” she braided her hands together and rocked back and forth on her feet.

“You too.”

“See you around,” she waved before turning and walking off. You can’t just let her walk away, you Coward.

“Wait!” She turned around and looked at me with raised eyebrows. Think Harry, think. “Um, I’m performing at a café around here tonight. Do you think, maybe, you’d like to go? You can bring friends if you want.” Fuck. I don’t even want to sing tonight, yet here I am, inviting someone and her friends to come watch me. I’m just so desperate to see her again.

Her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, “Perform?”

“I uh,” I scratched the back of my neck, “I sing.”

“Now that, I’ll have to see. Give me the name of the place and the time.”

---

“I don’t know if I want to do this,” I said as I paced the café.

“Why? You’re amazing, Mate,” Louis pointed out. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. They’ll all love you.”

“What if I wind up choking up there or something?”

“You won’t,” Zayn sighed.

“What if I forget the words? That’s a symptom, you know?”

Niall put his hands on my shoulders to stop me dead in my tracks, “Stop pacing. You’re making customers nervous.” I looked over my shoulder at the few people who are uncomfortably glancing at us. “And if something happens up there, we know the words. We could always jump right on stage with you and help you out.”

“You’d do that?”

He shrugged, “Of course.”

“It’s just,” I sighed, “I invited Priya here, and it’s making me more nervous about messing up.”

“Don’t think about it,” Liam smiled. “Just look at us the whole time if you have to.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “Okay, but I expect some eye contact back,” I joked.

“I’ll bat my eyelashes at you,” Louis laughed.

Just then, the café roared with cheers. We all face the stage where Ed was now standing in front of a microphone, “Hello everybody. How are you doing today?”

“Good,” the audience replied simultaneously.

“That’s good. So normally, I begin with an acoustic song, but I brought an old friend here who’s really talented, and he’s going to start the show. Give it up for Harry Styles.”

As the crowd cheered, Niall handed me his guitar that I will be borrowing for the song. I slowly made my way over to the stage, exhaling my nerves along the way. You can do this. You’ve got this, is what I kept repeating in my head. Did I believe it? Not a chance.

Ed provided me with a stool and lowered the microphone stand for me as I sat down. “Hey,” I rasped into the mic once Ed left the stage. “So uh, I’m going to perform a song I wrote myself. It’s called, ‘Don’t Let Me Go.’ I hope you like it.”

I cleared my throat as I positioned the guitar in my lap. I’m so nervous I swear I could puke right in front of everyone. I try to look at the boys in the audience, but my eyes keep wandering around the crowd at the people who seem bored of my silence. Some people are giving me sympathetic smiles, understanding how uneasy I am about this whole thing, while others are checking their watches as if I’m wasting their time. Maybe I am. Maybe I shouldn’t do this.

A creaking sound causes my foolish thoughts to dissolve as I see the source. Priya had just entered through the café door and immediately walked over to the boys. She’s wearing different attire now: regular skinny jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers. I watched them whisper and Niall point up on stage at me to which Priya’s eyes followed.

Her warm smile. The brightness of her pearly white teeth. She’s the reason for my sudden courage to strum the guitar.


Now you were standing there right in front of me
I hold on, it's getting harder to breathe
All of a sudden these lights are blinding me
I never noticed how bright they would be

I saw in the corner there is a photograph
No doubt in my mind it's a picture of you
It lies there alone in its bed of broken glass
This bed was never made for two

I'll keep my eyes wide open
I'll keep my arms wide open


People finally seemed to be swaying to the words that are fleeing my lips. I notice the boys are dramatically waving their hands in the air, minus Zayn who’s recording.


Don't let me
Don't let me
Don't let me go
'Cause I'm tired of feeling alone

Don't let me
Don't let me go
'Cause I'm tired of feeling alone


Priya seems to be enjoying the music as well. Looking at her just made me forget. I forgot how nervous I was. I forgot Zayn is recording this whole damn thing. I forgot there’s other people in the room. I forgot that I’m dying. It’s just me and her in the room. No worries. No bad memories. No horrible thoughts.


I promised one day that I'd bring you back a star
I caught one and it burned a hole in my hand, oh
Seems like these days I watch you from afar
Just trying to make you understand
I'll keep my eyes wide open, yeah

Don't let me
Don't let me
Don't let me go
'Cause I'm tired of feeling alone
Don't let me
Don't let me go

Don't let me
Don't let me go
'Cause I'm tired of sleeping alone


As soon as I finished the song, the audience stood from their seats and clapped so much that you’d think their hands would fall off. I let out a relieved chuckle and bowed for the incredible crowd.

“I LOVE YOU!”

“YOUR DIMPLES ARE SO DREAMY!”

I heard Niall and Lou shout at the same time from across the room, and they caused the room to erupt with laughter.

“Harry Styles, everybody!” Ed shouted into the microphone, and I took one last bow.

---

The lads wanted to hang out with Ed after his performances, so we decided to stick around the café and hang out. We all ordered some drinks and got a table to sit at. I stopped Priya before we reached the table, and I managed to convince her to go outside and to the back porch of the building with me.

We propped our arms up onto the railing as we took in the scenery of the ocean, our drinks sitting warmly in our hands. It’s dark outside, but the moon’s reflection in the water casts enough light across Priya and I’s faces for us to see each other.

“So where are your friends?” I asked her, wondering why she came alone.

She shrugged, “I don’t really have any.” What? Then who were the people at the beach with you last night? I wanted to ask, but decided against sounding like a stalker. “You’ve got an amazing voice,” she smiled before taking a sip of her tea.

I shrugged, “I mean, I guess. I was so uncomfortable up there though.”

“Really? ‘Cause it didn’t show at all.”

Because you came into the room. “Guess I’m a good actor then.”

She giggled and nodded a little. “So,” she said after a bit, “what brings you guys here?” I arched my brow at her questioningly. “It’s obvious you’re from England. Why come to California to hand out lemons?”

“Hm,” I chuckled. “Well, the lads and I made a bucket list, and traveling to the States was on our list.”

“A bucket list, huh? Why are you guys doing one of those?”

I thought long in hard about the answer to her question. I already know what it’s for, it’s just, I don’t know if I should tell her. My cancerous brain will kill me in eleven and a half to thirteen months. I can’t tell her that. She’d only pity me like everybody else. I like that she doesn’t know. She treats me like I’m not deteriorating before her. I’m just this normal guy to her, and I like that.

She lives here, and I live in England anyways. It’s not like she’ll see me again after we go to New York, right? So maybe it’s best that I just enjoy this little time I have with her without bringing up this ticking time bomb inside of me that I’ll be living with for the rest of my life. It’s better for both of us this way.

So instead I recited the words of the wise old woman from the plane, “You need to enjoy life, explore the world, and do things you’ve always wanted to do because before you know it, we’ll be old and wrinkly.”

“Very true. So this bucket list, what else is on it?”

“Well the guys were kind of lame with their suggestions. I want to go bungee jumping, and maybe even skydiving or something.”

She pointed to me, “You know what you should do? You should hang glide. That sounds like so much fun.”

“It does,” I agreed. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“I think what you’re doing is cool. We need more people like you guys. People are so busy taking life for granted that they don’t even realize how short it can be.” Oh, believe me. I know how short it can be. “It’s not about the job you have, how much money you make, how many children you raise, and blah, blah, blah. People think life is like a competition. ‘Who lived the best life?’ When really, it’s just about how you live it. It’s about the thrill and the experience.”

“You seem really passionate about this.”

She groaned, “You have no idea.”

I chuckled, “Then how would you like to help us cross off a few things on our list?”

Both her eyes and smile widened, “Really?” Before I could nod, she shook her head and said, “No, I can’t intrude. It’s your list, and I’d only be getting in the way of that.”

“It’s our list. Come on, you don’t want to go hang gliding with us?”

She narrowed her eyes at me, “I see that you’re trying to tempt me.” I laughed, and nodded in response. “Well, it’s working.”

“So…” I anticipated her answer. “Does this mean-“

“I’m in.”

Notes

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