Page 29 of What You Wish For

I nodded. I got it. “Or the stitches.”

He gave a little shrug. “Or the 7-Eleven.”

I studied the hat a little longer.

“What’s your hesitation?” Max asked.

“Have you ever seen me wear anything like this?”

“Flowers are very joyful,” Max said.

“I’m not really feeling joyful.”

“Yeah,” Max said. “That’s what the flowers are for.”

I shook my head at the flower hat. “I’m just not sure I can pull this off.”

“Just give it a try,” Max said, nodding at it, likeGo on.

And so, gently—as much for the paper flowers as for my stitches—I put it on and turned toward the mirror, and suddenly, I didn’t look like a sad, frightened, disappointed, relapsed person who had almost just died in a car accident of her own making. I looked like I was headed out for a parade.

And then I burst into tears again.

I couldn’t even have told you exactly why.

Because of everything. Because my stitches hurt. And because I missed my mom. And because I didn’t want to go back to school—ever. And because after well over a decade of being cured, I suddenly wasn’t cured anymore. But also because of the unrepentant beauty of those paper flowers. And Max’s kindness. And that stunning, ridiculous, marvelous hat.

He put his arm around me and just let me cry. Just stayed right there until I’d run out of tears. And then, when I finally quieted, he said, “I want to tell you something smart I’ve figured out about life.”

“Okay,” I said.

“And I want you to make a mental note, ’cause this is a good one.”

“Okay.”

“Ready?”

Now I was smiling. “Yes!”

“Okay. Listen close. Pay attention to the things that connect you with joy.”

It wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. I leaned away and turned to frown at him. “What does joy have to do with anything?”

“Joy is important.”

Was it? “I don’t know. Not having car accidents is important. Joy seems pretty expendable.”

But Max just smiled. “It’s one of the secrets to life that no one ever tells you. Joy cures everything.”

I flared my nostrils. “Everything?” I challenged, pointing at the bandage over my stitches.”

“Everything emotional,” Max clarified.

“I don’t think you can cure emotions,” I said.

But Max just nodded. “Joy is an antidote to fear. To anger. To boredom. To sorrow.”

“But you can’t just decide to feel joyful.”

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