Page 26 of The Wish
‘Huh?’
Looking down at his lap, Alex says, ‘I had about ten “mothers”.’ He looks up into Jesse’s face. ‘My mum died when I was seven. I hardly remember her.’ He immediately regrets having been so honest.
Jesse looks down, begins fiddling with a blanket. ‘And what about your dad?’ she asks softly.
‘Never knew him,’ Alex says. ‘But hey, that’s all ancient history. I just know you’re very lucky.’
Amy enters the room and sees Jesse and Alex, both with their heads down. ‘Somebody died?’ Amy asks with a gleam in her eye.
Jesse begins to laugh. Alex is shocked when Amy walks up to him and pokes him in the side.
‘Nope, not dead, but not exactly full of life. How’s the wish coming along?’
‘We keep getting interrupted,’ Jesse says still laughing.
‘Well, I’ll put a stop to that,’ Amy says, climbing up on the bed to sit cross-legged opposite Jesse. The two girls immediately carry on as the fun-loving teenagers they are. Alex cannot fathom the dramatic emotional changes around him and walks back to the pinboard, focusing on the photo with Jesse and her father listening to music through shared headphones. He turns back to the girls.
‘Jesse, I need to start filming some of the places in the photos, how about I come back later?’
‘When you come back later this afternoon, Alex, make it quite late. My dad should be here then and you two need to meet,’ Jesse says.
‘Meeting the father, that’s huge, Alex,’ Amy says playfully.
‘Stop it, Amy, you’ll frighten him off,’ Jesse answers with a giggle.
Alex has had all the teen teasing and emotional roller-coasters he can take for the moment. Gathering up his bag he mutters, ‘OK, I’ll try. No promises,’ and hurries from the room.
CHAPTER 13
‘So, Jesse,’ Amy says, once Alex has left. ‘I . . . um. I’ve got some, um, news.’ She’s not meeting Jesse’s eye. Instead, she’s playing with the hospital blanket, weaving it around her fingers. Jesse has an immediate pang of fear for her friend. She looks well – she seems to have been responding to treatment, she has more energy than usual, is louder, more active. With the sun coming in from the window and lighting up her freckles, the only giveaway that she’s ill is her head, covered in downy hair. But Jesse knows how quickly things can change.
‘What is it, Amy? You’re scaring me.’
Amy shakes her head, presses her lips together. ‘No, it’s nothing to be scared about, it’s not scary, I mean, it’s a bit scary, but . . .’ She looks up at Jesse. There are tears in her eyes, but she’s not looking sad, not exactly. If Amy’s expression reveals anything, it’s hope. She’s hopeful. And in that moment, Jesse knows. She experiences it as a great lurch in her stomach, almost painful. A swell of anger, of jealousy, of fear. But also, relief, and happiness. Happiness for her friend.
‘You’re in remission,’ she says softly, not trusting her voice.
Amy nods, and grasps both of Jesse’s hands. ‘My parents . . . they’re telling your mum and dad tonight. But I wanted to be the one to tell you, I wanted to be the one to let you know.’ She gulps and wipes her eyes with the heel of her hand. ‘I’m so sorry, Jesse, I’m so, so sorry . . .’
Jesse feels the tears spring up. ‘Don’t be sorry, I’m happy for you, honestly I am. Come here.’
They hug, Amy sobbing hard, Jesse stroking her friend’s back and telling her not to worry. It’s all going to work out. It’s all going to be fine. She’s saying this as much for herself as she is for her friend. They have been through so much together, they have whispered in the darkness all their hopes, their dreams, their fears. They have confided in each other, shared secrets, played video games. They’ve even been snarky at each other, or silent, when the treatment got too hard. And they’ve never needed to explain, because they know, better than anyone else, what the other is going through. It’s always been the two of them together. And they are about to travel on very different paths. But right now, it’s just Jesse and Amy, Amy and Jesse, BFFs. Best friends forever.
‘You don’t hate me, do you?’ Amy asks, pulling away from Jesse.
‘Course not, you big idiot,’ Jesse says, playfully punching her friend in the shoulder.
‘You know, it’s because your blood is just too posh. Whereas mine . . .’ Amy points her thumbs at herself. ‘Plebian, through and through.’
‘Common as muck,’ Jesse agrees, grinning.
The two laugh for a moment, then fall silent, Amy tracing the pattern on the blanket with her finger.
‘I really am sorry,’ she says, after a while.
‘I know,’ Jesse replies.
‘It still could happen, for you I mean. They still could find someone.’
