Luke's POV

Ever since Michael was in the hospital, something has felt wrong. It's like a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach that something just isn't right. Nothing bad has come up since Michael was released from the hospital last week, though. Michael is doing fine now, he's just more cautious of everything so he doesn't get another panic attack. Nothing has happened to Delilah, or Lucy, or even me. Nothing bad has happened to anyone. But something in the back of my mind is telling me the opposite. Until I figure it out though, it's going to bother me. My anxiety has been rising the past few days, and I have no clue why. It's like the sun has suddenly gone off course and shaken my whole world.

Delilah has noticed my increasing unease and nervousness throughout the past week. She thinks it would be a good idea to just relax and do something to keep my mind off of things, so we decide to go to a painting night. Apparently painting is a good way to relax, according to Delilah, so I agreed to go. It sounds kind of boring, but it can't hurt to go.

Delilah comes over to my house after school, since it's a Friday. The paint class isn't for another three hours, so we don't have to leave right away.

"So, have you talked to Calum recently?" Delilah asks, sitting down on my bed.

"Yeah, a few days ago. Why?"

She shrugs. "Just wondering since you haven't mentioned him in awhile. Just wanted to make sure you guys are still friends."

"Oh, yeah definitely."

"How about your mom?"

"She's good. She seems to be busy lately though, she can never stay on the phone too long," I tell her.

"Hmm, I wonder why. I guess it's a good thing she's busy, right? So you don't have to worry about her being alone and stuff."

When I first moved here, I always wondered what my mom would be doing. Because as far as I could remember, all she was constantly doing was taking care of me or going to work. It was almost like she didn't have a life outside of me. But now that I'm not there, she can't just sit alone at home all the time. Or at least I hope she isn't. I'd like her to be doing stuff without me there. I wouldn't want her being lonely and bored all the time.

Delilah laces her fingers with mine gently. 

"Michael seemed a lot better today," she tells me. She's been giving me daily updates since I've been worried about his well-being.

"That's great! Oh, guess what? Today at work I served someone that looked just like Michael! I had to do a double take. Except his hair wasn't dyed, so I knew it wasn't him."

Delilah laughs. "I'm still really happy you got that job."

I shrug. "It's alright, I guess. I like having my own money now, though."

"Now you just have to learn to drive and maybe go back to school!" Delilah says happily.

I smile a little. "Don't get too far ahead, now. I can only handle so much at a time."

The few hours pass quickly, and before I know it, we're outside the painting class. It's being held at a restaurant. Delilah told me they're really popular and happen a lot, but I've never heard of one before. Maybe it's just something that happens around here. 

Delilah excitedly grabs my hand as we walk inside and she keeps smiling. 

"It'll be fun, I promise. We need you to relax a little! Your palms are super sweaty lately," she says laughing.

"Hey!" I say, letting go of her hand and wiping it on my pant leg.

She smiles. "I don't mind it." She reaches for my hand, and this time I don't pull away.

There are easels set up at a bunch of tables, and so far there's only Delilah and me, and three small groups of people. We go to a table in the back with only two easels so it's just us.

"What's this?" I ask, pointing to the white thing on the easel.

Delilah laughs. "That's the canvas. That's what you paint on."

"Oh. So we don't use, like, paper?"

Delilah shakes her head and smiles. "Sometimes I wonder what goes through your mind."

"It's a common mistake!"

A few minutes go by, and a couple more people come in. I'm happy that it's not too crowded because I don't feel like being surrounded by people right now. It's nice that no one is really in the area Delilah and I chose, so it's only us. Plus, no one will get to see how terrible my painting comes out.

An instructor introduces himself at the front of the room and shows us what we'll all be painting. It's a sunset, which seems really cliche to me, but it's okay. Maybe it won't be too difficult to paint.

The instructor goes step by step, telling us what colors to use and where to put it. We start off by painting the top half of the canvas a light blue for the sky. Delilah looks over at me from behind her easel and smiles.

"Yes?" I ask her, putting my paintbrush down.

"Nothing. You look cute when you're concentrating on painting."

"We literally just started."

"I know. You're still cute though. You're even cuter with this," she says, quickly putting some blue paint on my cheek.

"I hate you," I say, going back to my painting. 

I can hear her laugh from behind her easel. I quickly paint the palm of my hand and intertwine my fingers with Delilah's free hand that's on top of the table. She squeals quietly and lets go of my hand very fast. 

"Luke!" she shrieks.

"Delilah!" I yell back.

She rolls her eyes and wipes the paint off with a paper towel. The instructor smiles at us, and we both blush.

A few minutes into the painting, it's finally starting to look like something other than random streaks of paint. I must say, mine is coming out much better than I thought. This also isn't as boring as I imagined. Delilah was right, it is taking my mind off of things, and I feel a little more relaxed.

My phone suddenly rings, and I see that Calum is calling. It's a weird hour for him to be calling. My anxiety quickly returns, and I answer my phone immediately.

"Hey, Cal. Is everything okay?" I ask quietly.

"Are you somewhere you can talk for a little?" he asks, sounding flustered.

"Uh, not really, but I can step out," I tell him. I whisper to Delilah that it's Calum and it seems urgent, and she nods her head. I step out of the room and into a little hallway. "What's wrong?"

I can hear other people in the background, but I don't recognize any voices. Wherever he is sounds busy. 

"It's Luke. Yeah, I've got it. Don't worry," Calum tells someone, his voice sounding far away. "Sorry, I was talking to your mom."

"Why are you with my mom? Calum, what's going on?"

Calum sighs. He lets out something that kind of sounds like a cry, but I'm not sure. He doesn't answer me.

"Calum, tell me what's going on," I say, my heart starting to race.

"Shit, I can't do this. Wait a second. I can't be the one to tell you."

I hear him start walking, and that's when I notice a familiar beeping in the background. They're in a hospital. Either Calum is in a hospital, my mom is in the hospital, or another relative is in the hospital. Why else would Calum and my mom be together in what is most likely a hospital?

"Tell me what? Are you in a hospital?" I ask. He doesn't respond.

I realize that I'm still holding onto the paintbrush, and I twirl it around with my fingers.

I hear Calum talking to someone, and it seems like he hands the phone over to whoever it is.

"Hello? Luke?" It's a woman's voice that doesn't sound familiar to me.

"Yes, that's me. Who is this?" I ask quietly.

"Hi, Luke. This is Dr. Collins. I'm one of your mother's oncologists."

"I'm sorry, her what?" I have no idea what she's talking about.

"A doctor for her cancer. I know this is hard for you since-"

I cut the doctor off. "What do you mean a doctor for her cancer? She has cancer? Since when?" I ask, my voice shaking. I'm so confused. No one has ever mentioned my mom being sick, let alone having cancer.

"Yes, she has cancer. You don't know? I'm sorry, I thought you-"

"No one ever told me anything! Put Calum back on the phone," I demand.

I hear Calum mumble a few swears, they must have me on speaker.

"Luke, I'm sorry," Calum starts to say.

 "Where's my mom?"

"You can't talk to her right now, she's not in great condition."

"Not in great condition?! And now's the time you decide to tell me? Why didn't she tell me?" I throw the paintbrush down in anger and pull at the ends of my hair.

"She didn't want you to worry."

"How long have you known?"

"I've known for a month. I've been helping her out for awhile-"

I cut him off again. "How long has she had it?"

"She found out at the end of January."

"And no one told me?!"

"She thought it would be under control by now. She was doing well. She thought things would be okay, and you wouldn't have to know until it was gone. But her medication did something and she didn't feel right so I brought her here and-"

"Oh my, God," I mumble. I pace back and forth, my heart pounding with every step. I feel like I'm going to pass out, like the floor is suddenly about to collapse beneath my feet.

This is what was wrong. This is why I felt strange all week.

Delilah quietly comes out to check on me.

"Is everything okay?" she asks quietly.

I shake my head and just keep pacing.

"Why wouldn't she tell me though? So what if I worried? She's my mom!" I yell at Calum.

"Luke, she's concerned that you'd go back to..."

"Back to not speaking? Yeah, well if she dies, my response would be way worse than that."

"Luke, don't say that. Don't talk like that. She's not gonna die."

"How do you know?!"

"I think we need to hang up. You're obviously not taking this well, which is understandable. I wish it didn't have to be this way. Your dad will be able to tell you more than I can. I'm really sorry it had to happen like this. No one wanted this to happen," Calum says quietly, sounding like he's crying. 

"Don't call me again. Best friends don't keep secrets like this," I say quickly before hanging up the phone.

"Luke, what's wrong?" Delilah asks, looking at me with wide eyes.

I drop to the ground and hug my knees in close to me. I start sobbing uncontrollably, and I feel like I'm about to hyperventilate. My anger has suddenly turned into sadness. I'm shaking a lot, and on the verge of a panic attack. I take some shaky, deep breaths to try to calm down.

Delilah sits down beside me and doesn't say anything. She knows that asking me things when I'm upset just makes me more mad. I wrap my arms around her and lean my head on her shoulder while I cry.

I finally calm down a little after a few minutes and can breathe better. I pick my head up off Delilah's shoulder and pick up the paintbrush that I dropped.

"My mom has cancer," I whisper almost inaudibly.

Delilah definitely wasn't expecting me to say that. Her shock is clear on her face, and she's speechless. "Did she just find out?"

"She's known since January. No one told me. They were just going to tell me once it was gone. Like they can just keep that secret from me?" I ask, sniffing.

"I'm-"

"Don't say you're sorry. Sorry does not help. Sorry does not change the fact that my mom is in the hospital with cancer. Sorry doesn't make it any better."

Delilah takes a deep breath and reaches for my hands. "I was going to say I'm sure your mom will be okay. If she didn't think she'd be okay, she would have told you sooner."

I shrug. "I guess. I don't even know what kind it is. Calum said my dad can tell me more. So everyone but me knows, apparently."

"Then why don't we go home, and you can talk to your dad about all this. You should know more about the situation before jumping to conclusions. Maybe they caught it early, and she's not in an awful position."

"This came out of nowhere. I feel bad for ruining the night."

Delilah smiles. "You don't need to worry about that. Your mom is more important than a painting."

"I feel bad making us leave."

"It's okay, Luke." She stands up and reaches down to help me up. "We can do it another time. Mine wasn't that great anyways."

She rubs small circles on my thumb while we hold hands. 

"Thanks for being so great all the time," I whisper, a few more tears streaming down my cheeks.

I feel like this whole thing is a nightmare. Like I'm going to wake up in a few seconds, drenched in sweat and my heart pounding. But like everything else that happens to me, this isn't a nightmare. This is real life.

I sit in the car silently, neither of us saying a word. It's not like we can just have a normal conversation right now. I feel like the weight of the world has just crashed down on my shoulders and broken every bone in my body. 

"I can't have someone else die," I mumble.

"What?" Delilah asks.

"It isn't fair. It isn't fair that bad luck follows me. Life isn't fair."

don't be mad at me!!!

if you think back, I kinda hinted at this, like with Liz coughing on the phone. but none of you expected that. I debated for awhile whether or not to go this route, but I am and I hope you all don't mind

also don't be like "omg this is just another cancer story" I promise it's not. when have I ever written something that's like everyone else's. stay tuned my friends.

TWEET ME YOUR EMOTIONS singsongash!!!!

PS SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING I'VE BEEN SUPER BUSY!!! 

-Ashley