Page 66 of Styx & Stones

“You are. We’ve been following your story since you met in chemo. Oh my God, you guys are so lucky.”

I frown. Styx squeezes my hand, because I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. Lucky?Lucky?We’re fucking terminally ill. “Yeah, we’re super lucky.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean about the cancer. That sucks, but like ... at least you found each other before you—”

“Kaitlyn,” her friend admonishes her.

At least one of them has a brain.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it that—”

“It’s fine. Will you just ... will you take our picture?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

The girl snaps several pictures of us before handing back my phone. “Can we get one with you?”

“With us? Um ... okay?” I look at Styx, and he grins, but he looks as uncomfortable as I do. The girls rope another person into photographing us, and then they start furiously typing on their phones. “Wait. Please don’t post that.”

“What do you mean? It’s not every day you get to meet two celebrities.”

“Can you, can you just wait until the end of the day? Please? If we post anything right now, we’re sitting ducks for our parents and the cops to find us. They’ll scour the park.”

“It’s a big place,” Kaitlyn says.

Man, this bitch is getting on my nerves. I give her an acerbic smile. “Not when you have security cameras.”

“Oh, okay sure.”

“Can we post later?” Not Kaitlyn asks.

“Give us till midnight?” Styx says. “We want to see the light parade.”

“Sure,” Kaitlyn agrees, but she doesn’t look happy about it.

“For what it’s worth,” Not Kaitlyn says, “I think what you guys are doing is really brave.”

“Thanks.”

“And I’m really sorry you’re sick.” Not Kaitlyn looks between us, and swallows hard. “I hope you guys beat this thing. My dad had a carcinoma. He wasn’t so lucky, but I hope you kick cancer’s ass.”

A lump forms in my throat, and I fight back tears. “Thank you.”

She smiles. Kaitlyn has the good grace to look chagrined. I lead Styx away, walking as fast as I can towards Tomorrowland before I completely lose my shit. I pull him to the side of a hedge, resisting the urge to throw up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why the hell should their words affect me like this?

“You okay? Stones, if we need to go—”

“We’re not going.” I glare at him. “I’m fine. Or I will be.”

“Okay. Then let’s go ride Space Mountain until we puke.”

“Should we make it really worth our while and eat our weight in corndogs and Dole Whip first?”

Styx wraps his arm around my shoulders, and pulls me in close to whisper, “I thought you’d never ask.”

***