Page 5 of Styx & Stones

“Carissa, I’m Joanie Stone,” my mom says. “We spoke on the phone yesterday.”

“Hi, Joanie. Good to meet you.” Carissa opens the file in her hand and peruses it. “Okay, Alaska, we’re trying a new open-treatment situation, and you’re welcome to join the others if you like, but let’s set you up in a booth while we get your weight and run some tests to make sure we have the right dosage.”

She leads the way to a sectioned off cubicle. My Mom follows, but I dare a glance at that Styx kid. His gaze is still wide, panicked even. He opens his mouth, and closes it again, and I walk away before he can tell me how sorry he is.










CHAPTER THREE

STYX

What the fuck is shedoing here?

I watch Alaska be led away by Carissa, and I lean forward in my seat, afraid I might be sick.

Or ... Sicker.

She has cancer.

She has fucking cancer.

This can’t be happening. I rake my hands through my hair. I want to go over there and demand they tell me what’s wrong with her. I want to know what drugs they’re giving her, and how they plan to eradicate her illness.

But I can’t.

I can’t demand answers, or ask to see her file. I can’t do any of those things because while Iknowher, she doesn’t know me. We’ve never even spoken beyond a conversation we had two years ago about the note she’d dropped under her desk. A note that I read over and over for two days, just to memorize the whirls and loops of her handwriting before returning it to her.

The girl I’ve watched from afar for seven years has cancer. The girl I’ve loved since the fifth grade just walked into my chemo session, and I feel as if my whole world just fucking imploded.