Page 24 of Alex
“Yep.”He returns with two bowls of cookie dough ice cream, the best food on earthafter bacon, and we spend the next few hours watching T.V. When my eyes startgetting heavy again, I head to my bedroom. I’m moving slower than old peoplefuck, but I make it there and crawl into bed. Alex places a large glass ofwater and another pill on the night table.
“Incase you need it in the middle of the night. I’m leaving our doors open, soyell if you need me.”
“Iwill.”
“Liar,”he says good naturedly. “Are you okay, Ian? Really?”
“Yeah,I’m good. I got through the day. One thing at a time, right?”
“Onething at a time,” he agrees, and leaves me to sleep.
That’spretty much how the rest of the week goes. Alex cooks and cleans up, and wespend hours binging on Netflix. We don’t talk about it, but we’re both waitingto hear the test results that will decide how much chemo I’ll get. It will alsogive me a better idea of my chances in the long run. I’ve been taking Alex’sadvice and trying not to think about it, taking my days one thing at a time.
Asthe pain recedes, it does sometimes feel like a mini vacation. I’m not used tobeing off work and home so much. I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with Alex. Itbrings back memories of hanging out with him and Cooper, before Cooper died andtook a piece of Alex with him. Now, he’s back to his former funny, smilingself.
Thephone call I’ve been dreading and expecting comes a little over a week after mysurgery. Alex hovers while I speak to the doctor, pacing the room like it’s himwho’s facing weeks or months of chemo torture.
“What’sthe verdict?” he asks as soon as I lay down my phone.
“Oneround of chemo with some drug I’ve never heard of. One treatment given by IV.They didn’t find any evidence of metastasis, so it’s being done as apreventative. Then I have to be tested every 3 to 6 months to be sure itdoesn’t come back.”
Asmall part of me was hoping to hear I wouldn’t have chemo at all. I’ve seen howsick and frail people look who are going through treatment. Alex lays a hand onmy arm. “This was the best news you could have hoped for, right?”
“Itis,” I sigh. “I’m going to be all right. I just…fucking chemo.”
“Iknow, but you’ll get through it the same as you did the surgery. Did they tellyou what to expect? Side effects, I mean?”
“Herattled off a few things. With only one cycle, my hair may thin out, but Iprobably won’t lose it. Fatigue can last a few weeks. The worst is the pukingand nausea the days after the treatment. Fuck, Alex, I don’t want to do this.If it’s only preventative, maybe I don’t have to. I can tell them I choosesurveillance. Just the testing to watch for trouble.”
Alexshakes his head, his serious eyes boring into mine. “And if it does come back,you’ll have months of chemotherapy and a higher chance you won’t survive.” Ifall back onto the couch with a groan and he follows me, putting his arm aroundmy shoulders. “I know it sucks and it’s fucking terrifying, but you have to doit. I’ll stay with you every second, and a month from now, it’ll all be over.”
“Okay.”He’s right. I don’t have much choice.
“Whenis your treatment?”
“Notuntil Monday.”
“Good.Kyle will only be here for the weekend, so he won’t know anything. Maybe weshould get together with Ev and Mason this weekend too. Less chance they’llshow up to check in if they’ve seen us. Unless you’ve changed your mind andwant to tell them?” His eyes are hopeful.
“No,they don’t need to know. We’ll hang out with them Sunday.”
“Whydon’t we get out of here tonight? Go see a movie or something? If you feel upto it?”
It’sa good idea. I’ve been stuck in the house too long, longer than necessary. Ican’t hide out forever. “I feel fine. Add a bacon cheeseburger and you’ve got adeal.”
Weend up pigging out at a fast food restaurant and heading to Hype for drinksinstead of a movie. After a few shots, the beat of the music climbs inside me,and I start to feel like myself again. I’d rather be Ian the manwhore than theguy with cancer any day of the week. A thin blonde with an ass that won’t quitis watching me from the dance floor, and finally motions for me to join her.“Go,” Alex laughs. “If you take her home, I’ll catch a cab.”
Thegirl is all over me from the second I step onto the dance floor. The last drinkcatches up with me and a pleasant buzzing races over my skin. For over an hour,I lose myself in the music, the girl, the alcohol. I don’t think about what Ilost or what I still have to face. I just dance and enjoy the feel of her bodygyrating on mine. My cock obviously suffered no ill effects from the surgery.It’s ready to go.
“Thatfor me?” she asks with a salacious grin. “Want to get out of here?”
Mybody does, but for once my brain wants to argue. She’ll see the scar, stillbright pink and tender, not to mention the fake ball. She’s bound to ask whathappened, and I go back to being cancer guy again. And what if I can’t? Onehard on doesn’t mean anything. I can get hard if the breeze blows on it.
“Sorry,sweetheart, tonight’s not a good night.”
Pouting,she leads me back to her table and produces a pen. “Well, call me when it is agood night,” she says, writing her number on my arm.
“Yougot it, baby.”
