Page 69 of Between the Lines

I nod. Literallyanythingto get my mind off of the way Nathan Harding’s mouth transforms into whole a different kind ofYes sirwhen we’re alone.

“Okay. You’re making a list. Everything you’ve ever wanted to do.”

“Everything?”

“Everything. Did you want to be an astronaut when you were a kid? Put it on the list. Wanted to work in fashion after you sawThe Devil Wears Prada?”

“The who wears what?” I ask.

Her eyes bulge. “Please stop reminding me that I’m old, and I’ll plan a movie night for us and the other girls.”

I nod, and get to work on my list, all the while letting my heart turn fuzzy at the thought of a movie nightwith friends. It reminds me of the stuff from my books.

Friendship. Sisterhood. Grown up girl bonding. Sharing secrets, and having trustworthy people in my life.

A real sense of belonging. Where I’m wanted simply for being me.

Things that shouldn’t seem fictional, but have really only come alive for me in the stories that I read.

“Wow,” Lucy says, looking up from her phone and her second coffee. “You’ve got quite the list there.”

I shrug. “I’ve had a lot of time to imagine the things I’d do if given the time.”

Lucy scrutinizes the list for several minutes before saying, “You want to work with people.”

It’s something I could’ve deduced myself, but never thought to delve into myownpsyche as much as I’ve picked apart that of others.

I shrug. “I guess I do.”

“You know what Freud would say about this, don’t you?”

Lucy tilts her head conspiratorially, and I grin.

“Probably something like, ‘The way she was parentified at such a young age created a constant need to please people, so even in the workplace, she seeks approval by doing for others.’”

“Wow,” she says, starting a slow clap. “Ten out of ten.”

We laugh. And for the next ten minutes, we finish our second coffees and psychoanalyze the rest of the group. Our group offriends. Friends who, pending a quick check of my schedule, I have plans to watch a bunch of early-2000s movies with so that they can “culture” me.

I tuck my list into my pocket, promising to do my “therapy homework” that Lucy has assigned, to go through the list and narrow it down to things I’m still interested in and things that are still plausible.

I drive into work wearing a mile wide grin. I think I’m really going to like this wholefriendshipthing.

twenty-eight

nathan

It was supposedto be a routine check-up.

My brother’s annual physical. Not a cancer scan, because he stopped having to do those years ago. It should have been a normal visit until, according to the voicemail from Dr. Marty that I’ve just received, they assessed his lymph nodes.

Swollen. Probably not a concern, but we’ll run some tests.

Just like that, my entire world flipped on its axis.

The last time Dr. Marty “just ran some tests,” Cal was immediately admitted to the hospital for eight straight days. The last time, I’d volunteered my cells for my brother.

The voicemail assured me that there was nothing to worry about, and that Cal gave Dr. Marty permission to call me when the results were in. But I’ve never had to do this alone. Cal was cancer-free for a few years before Mom and Dad died. I’ve never had to play the what-if game alone.

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