Page 8 of On The Run

I sighed and put my laptop on the coffee table. I knew already that I was probably going to lose this argument, but I was too stubborn to give up already. “I know you can, Pops, but you shouldn’t always have to. Let me take care of you sometimes.”

Pops sat up and motioned for me to sit next to him. I hesitated. Not because I didn’t want to be close to him, but his immune system was still so fragile. I was exposed to so many fucking germs at work, I’d been trying to limit his exposure to me and was extra careful anytime I did need to get close.

But after a moment, I went and sat next to him. I sensed that it was important to him right now, and I couldn’t really deny him anything. “A, you take care of me. I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’re my reason for living. My reason for fighting this damn cancer. Without you, I’d have given up already.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat and looked up at the ceiling to keep the tears from falling. If he was gonna make me go to school, he could at least make sure I didn’t cry first. I was already the weird kid in my class; I didn’t need to show up with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face.

“Pops . . .”

But he continued speaking. “Part of the way you can take care of me is by still living. I know it’s hard. I know you don’t want to leave me when I’m having a shitty day, but nothing makes me happier than seeing you work toward your future. We’ve both fought too damn hard for too damn long to have some semblance of a life, and there’s no way I’m letting you give up on that. That’s all I ever wanted, for you to have a chance to be a kid and just live. I failed in giving you a childhood, but I refuse to see you lose your twenties too.”

Fucking A. The tears were flowing freely now, and I wiped them roughly away with the sleeve of my bright-blue Vegeta hoodie. “Pops, you didn’t fail. You did the best you could. I know that. We’d probably both be dead if you didn’t do what you did.”

Pops laughed harshly, which of course caused him to have a massive coughing fit. I was up in an instant, helping him sit all the way up and ready with his inhaler and then some water. Once he was done, he continued like he didn’t just almost hack up a lung.

“Just being alive is a low standard, A. There’s way more to life than just breathing. And now you get that chance. Please don’t waste it because of me.”

He didn’t know I’d do anything for him. Give up everything, like he did for me. But that wasn’t what he wanted to hear so I kept it to myself. Sighing, I knew I was going to go. “Ok, fine. But please, Pops, call me if you need anything.Anything. I don’t give a crap that I’m in class.”

Pops fixed me with a look, but he relented. “Fine. I’ll call you if I need you. But I won’t need you. Just go, A.” Pops paused for a second, but I could tell he had more to say. “I think having an in-person class might be good for you. Maybe you’ll make some friends.”

I groaned and buried my head in my hands.Not this conversation again.“Pops . . .”

He laughed. “Alright, fine. I won’t nag you too much today. Go on, you’re gonna be later if you don’t get a move on.”

I sighed loudly so he knew I disagreed, but I still got up and went to my room to get my bag. I didn’t bother getting changed. I was sure I wouldn’t be the only person in gray sweats and a hoodie in my three-hour night lecture. College students weren’t exactly known for their fashion sense. I did run my fingers through my hair, though, taming the mess and smoothing it down to the side, making sure it covered the scar on the side of my head. Like the one on my jaw, it came from that night two years ago that I tried to forget. But almost dying wasn’t something a person forgot easily. Once it looked acceptable, I adjusted my septum piercing and added deodorant. Finally, I slipped on my bright-blue Chucks that matched my hoodie, grabbed my backpack, and headed out.

Pops was back to watching TV. I mentally went over everything to make sure he was ok. He’d already taken his meds, and I’d be home in time for his night dose. He ate a little, so I knew he wouldn’t have an appetite for a while. “You need anything before I head out, Pops? Do you have enough water? Ginger ale?”

He waved his hand at me. “I’m fine, A. Go to school.”

I scanned him over one more time, making sure he was telling the truth. “Ok. I’m going. Remember, call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I will. Now go, Aiden.”

I still couldn’t quite leave. “I love you, Pops.”

Pops dragged his attention away from the TV, and I was relieved to see some life back in his eyes. “I love you too, A. Always.”

Finally, I forced myself to leave. I was going to be late if I didn’t hurry my ass up. I threw my hood up, tossed my backpack over one shoulder, and jogged to our car so I could get to campus.

* * *

“Aiden?” I stopped in my tracks despite my rush when I heardthatvoice. His voice.

Turning around, I saw the object of my ridiculous crush standing on the steps that led to the main section of campus. He was looking all kinds of sexy in his charcoal-colored pants and light-gray checkered button-down. Seriously, how did he manage to look that good in the dorkiest-looking clothes ever?

I was suddenly very self-conscious of my outfit. He’d never seen me outside the café before, and I was feeling very young and immature. “Maxwell?” I spurted out, completely forgetting I wasn’t supposed to know his name.

His eyes widened a bit in surprise, but he didn’t seem upset. “Just Max is fine. I didn’t see you at the café yesterday. I was worried. Gray had a whole bunch of pictures of his treehouse he wanted to show you.”

A wave of guilt washed over me. I had completely forgotten about Gray and his treehouse with everything with my pops. “Oh, yeah, I had a family emergency. Tell Gray I’ll definitely be there tomorrow, and he can show me everything. I’m sorry I disappointed him.”

Max’s expression softened, and he sucked in his bottom lip. “Don’t worry about it. Family always comes first. He’d understand. But he’ll be excited to see you tomorrow. The other barista, Anna, she said your dad was sick?”

I flinched before I could stop myself. I knew that he meant nothing by it, but I could not associate the word “dad” with Pops. Dad/Daddy was what the asshole sperm donor forced me to call him. That word would forever be tainted for me, and I didn’t want it anywhere near Pops.

Though, that wasn‘t completely fair. There was no way for anyone to know my weird hang-ups. I could tell Max noticed my expression change, but I smoothed it out and hoped he didn’t call me on it. “Yeah, Pops, he’s uh . . . He’s dealing with some stuff, and I needed a few days to take care of him.”

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