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Left Behind


Guest Jen

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Part Eleven

“Where were you?” Dex asks when April comes through the door.

Sid returned home from the hospital some hours ago, Casey needing to go home and get ready to go to work. They got through one game, Dex only winning because Casey kept picking up all the vowels and being unable to do more than two letter words. Dex’s final score was probably a third of what he would have got pre-surgery, so he’s now sitting on the floor playing a one-person version of the game. He picks up seven tiles, tries to find a word and place it on the board, then he takes more tiles to replace the ones he’s used.

Sid had dinner by himself, since Indi was working too and Sasha was catching up with Rosie, and Dex was not hungry. He’d been nibbling on a plain cracker for the better part of ten minutes, looking at the arrangement of tiles on his rack when April arrived.

“Sorry,” April apologises, she comes straight into the lounge room and shifts Dex’s blankets to take a seat on the couch behind him, “Got caught up.” She appraises the game setup in from of him, “Seems like you had a good day. Was Casey okay?”

“Yeah,” Dex says, distractedly. He places an O and U next to each other on the rack, considering them carefully. “You said you’d be back at three.”

“I know,” April replies. She sounds a little breathless, and she places a hand on Dex’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly. Dex feels his muscles tighten under her touch, and April presses the pads of her thumbs into his shoulder blades. “You’re tight. What do you say we go to bed?”

Dex shakes his head, places the O and U with an R on the board adjoining them to an S. Dex feels a second hand on his shoulders, and very slowly, April begins to give press into Dex’s skin, massaging Dex’s taught muscles.

Dex picks up another three tiles, frowning a little at the W and two E’s he’s now got. He hears April say, “You’re mad. Why are you upset?”

“I’m not,” Dex replies, placing the tiles immediately down onto the board making WERE with the existing R.

“Then why haven’t you looked at me since I got here?”

“Busy,” Dex says, picking up three more tiles.

“You didn’t tell me you wanted to play. I can verse you,” April offers.

“That’s okay. I already played against Casey.”

“Did you win?” April ventures.

Dex nods, goes back to arranging his new letters in different combinations. April keeps kneading her fingers into Dex’s back, humming a little as she presses down into his skin. Dex then turns suddenly, swivels around on the carpet until he’s looking at April.

“Where were you?” Dex asks, like he’s suddenly remembered his question from five minutes ago. That, or he’s forgotten he’s already asked, but April tries not to think of that version of events.

She smiles down at him. “I was working at the university, helping Cameron out.”

“The whole time?”

“Yeah, most of it.”

“Most?”

For the first time, April shies away, her gaze leaving Dex’s face and she looks down, and Dex sees the slight flush of her cheeks, the minute excitement that would match her breathlessness. “We went to dinner.”

“Dinner? Like, a date?” Dex asks.

“No. Like, dinner,” April repeats, glancing back up.

“But he asked you out,” Dex clarifies.

“He wanted to say thank you. He’d got lumped with marking all the final submissions for pretty much the entire faculty and couldn’t possibly do it by himself,” April explains.

“I’m sure,” Dex mutters. His mood suddenly sullen, expression gloomy and April leans back.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asks.

Dex inhales deeply, breathes out through his nose, and sighs. He turns back to his Scrabble board. “Nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing,” April insists, “Something’s got you in a mood. You were fine before.”

“I was a lot of things before.”

“Dex. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Cameron was saying that he’s seen a lot of cancer patients who –”

“Well, if Cameron says it, it must be true,” Dex pouts with a roll of his eyes.

“Seriously, Dex. What’s the matter?”

“You mean apart from my own body turning against me and growing mutant cells inside my head?”

“Dex.”

Dex shakes his head in response, trying to stand from his cross-legged position on the floor. He stumbles, feet refusing to cooperate, having fallen sleep and he crashes back to the floor, knees catching the corner of the Scrabble board, sending small squares flying in all directions.

“Dex, are you okay?” April asks immediately. She’s got an arm around his shoulders, already trying to help him back up, but Dex shrugs her off, refusing any sort of assistance. “Dex, come on. You’ve been up all day, so you’re just tired. It’s fine, let’s just get you to bed.”

“I’m fine,” Dex snaps and he sags into the carpet. He struggles a bit, but manages to pull his knees up to his chest, wraps his arms around them and buries his head in his chest. He hears April’s quiet shuffling, no doubt picking up the mess that he made. She always seems to do that for him: Dex breaks something; April fixes it. He thought that’s why they worked well together, but now he’s not so sure. The tinkle of tiles on cardboard as April places them back in the box, draws Dex out of his self-made shell. He takes a deep, steadying breath, levels his gaze, and says like it physically hurts, “If you want to move on, it’s okay.”

April drops the last of the letters into the box, and freezes at Dex’s question. “Move on? What are you talking about?” She looks down, places the lid on and sets the game to the side. April then joins Dex on the floor.

“If you want to date someone else, then that’s okay.”

“Dex, I’m not dating anyone else,” April says.

“I saw your face when you came in,” Dex points out. “No one is that late because they are miserable.”

April sighs, gazes down at her hands. She folds them neatly into her lap, doesn’t reach out and touch Dex, the way she would have before. “Tonight wasn’t a date, but it could be next time, I don’t know. But I don’t want to have to worry about how you’re going to react if I so much as mention his name.”

Dex’s mouth moves, but no sound comes out. He chews the inside of his cheek. “I can’t help it if the guy’s a –” The word he wanted is gone, slipped right through his grasp, and Dex settles for some vague gesture with his hands that he hopes is all-encompassing.

April rolls her eyes to the ceiling. Her voice sounds strained when it comes out, “You don’t even know him. And besides, you’re the one who just told me to move on. Don’t you want me to have a life outside of you and –”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but Dex doesn’t need her to. He can anticipate the ending; he’s not that far gone.

He nods once, and with a few jerky movements gets to his feet. April holds a hand out for him to grab, but Dex ignores it.

“It’s fine,” Dex says, when he’s steady on his feet, “It’s fine anyway because I had a thing with Steph at the hospital anyway,” and then he turns and leaves the room without so much as an explanation.

>><<

Dex has a doctor’s appointment that his dad drives him to. They sit side by side in the waiting room on a lumpy lounge, not saying very much.

Dex has his hands clasped together, literally twiddling his thumbs to pass the time. Sid glances down at the movement, says, “I haven’t seen April around for a while. Is she going okay with her studies?”

Dex shrugs.

Sid tries again, “Is everything okay between you guys?”

Dex’s thumbs stop their circular motion.

Dex sucks in a breath, is about to tell his dad about Cameron and their – Dex doesn’t want to call it a fight, but it sort of felt that way – when a kind-looking middle aged nurse walks into the waiting room. She looks up from a clipboard and asks, “Dexter Walker?” and gazes around the room expectantly, even though Dex and his dad are the only ones in there.

Sid stands first and Dex follows.

The sun is warm when they exit the hospital, his dad carrying a small plastic bag of medication. He places a hand on Dex’s shoulder, as Dex blinks, trying to adjust to the light.

“What do you say we do something, huh? Just you and me?”

Dex squints his eyes, tries to find their car in the crowded car park. It would help if he could remember where they parked it.

“We could get something to eat at the Diner?” Sid suggests, “I know Irene would be so happy to see you.”

He scans the different coloured cars, knows his dad’s car is white, but that doesn’t really help. Every second car is some shade of white in this place.

“What about the beach? It’s a great day for it.”

Dex hates the beach, always has, which has been difficult given where they live. Dex doesn’t even realize he’s said that part out loud until his dad releases his shoulder saying, “Not the beach then.”

They’ve halted outside the emergency entrance to the hospital, Dex still scanning the car park for Sid’s. Sid notices, “Do you remember where we parked the car?”

It’s little things like this; times when Sid thinks he’s being subtle that remind Dex how not okay things actually are. Before, Sid never would have suggested going to the Diner or the beach. So, it’s not the inconclusive test results – ones that can’t tell whether all the treatment is actually having any effect on the growth of the tumor – that get to Dex. It’s the little ways in which his life changes, small things that prior to this episode wouldn’t have even been on his radar – days on the lounge, free reign of the tv, choice of board games – that make him realize that a timer has been set. One that if it goes off, Dex wonders what will be left behind.

The phrase, ‘seize the day’ springs to mind, and even though Dex hasn’t studied Latin: carpe diem.

“I want to go home,” Dex says, rather than answer his dad’s original question, because no, he can’t remember. Sid, thankfully, must get it. He looks across at his son, all patches of hair and pale face, his clothes hanging loosely from his narrow frame, and nods.

Sid veers to the right, Dex following, and he leads them to the car.

Dex goes to his room, isn’t interested in eating, and closes the door. He doesn’t mean to be shutting his dad out so obviously, but this is something he needs to do. He rifles through his drawers, finds a half-used notebook and flips to the back page. At the top he writes, Dex’s Bucket List in scrawling uneven block letters and then momentarily chews on his pencil in thought.

His dad knocks on his door, asking if he wants to come for a drive.

“I’m going to go and pick up some dinner for myself and the girls,” he tells him through the wooden door. Dex stares down at his list. It’s not finished, he knows that, but he’s lost his train of thought, so he knows it’s pointless to try and push through the block. He sighs, closes the notebook carefully, and slips it under his pillow. Dex can tell Sid is still hovering outside his room, waiting for an answer.

“Can you drop me at the gym?” Dex asks. His bedroom door opens then, Sid letting it swing open and stand in the doorway.

“The gym?” he questions, confusion apparent.

Dex nods, moves to find the pair of sneakers that are buried in the back of his wardrobe.

“I want to see Indi.”

“She’ll be home for dinner, you can talk to her then,” Sid says.

“No, I need to see her at the gym,” Dex insists. He finds his shoes and sits on the floor, sliding them on over his socks. He struggles a little with the laces, “You asked if I wanted to go somewhere, and this is where I want to go.”

It’s a bit of a guilt-trip, Dex knows, but he doesn’t really feel guilty about it. Not when the outcome seems so promising.

Sid sighs, but helps Dex back to his feet when he’s got both his shoes loosely tied.

Indi is carrying a large beach ball down to the beach when she sees her dad’s car pull up into the car park. She looks up, goes to wave at her dad, when she sees the passenger’s door open too, and Dex climb out.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Sid asks again.

“Yes, dad. I’ll be with Indi, I’ll be fine,” he replies before Dex makes his way towards his sister who is standing with a big pink ball between both her hands, staring at them. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Indi asks in lieu of an actual greeting.

“Hi Dex, I’m so glad you’re here, visiting me and work. I miss hanging out with you and my sense of humour is nowhere near as sharp as yours,” Dex replies with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, hi, to you too. What are you doing here?”

“I can’t come and hang out with my sister?”

“Not without some sort of ulterior motive,” Indi states.

Dex shrugs, “The house was getting sort of claustrophobic. I needed to get out.”

“Didn’t you have a doctor’s appointment today?” Indi asks.

“Are you getting ready for a class?” Dex asks, completely ignoring Indi’s previous question.

“Yeah,” Indi says, glancing down towards the beach. Dex sees the rows of little orange cones set up in a line. The skipping ropes in a pile and more of the giant rubber balls, like the one Indi is currently holding, placed in the sand. “So, I can’t really hang out right now. You’re welcome to watch, though.”

“Actually, I want to join in.”

Indi blinks; once, twice. “You want to what?”

“I want to join your class,” Dex repeats.

Indi leans forward, drops her voice to a whisper, “Is this a … you know, head thing, or are you messing with me?”

Dex sighs, runs a hand over his head. His hair is still growing in fits and starts, patches of his scalp still obvious under the thin regrowth. “No, it’s not a tumor thing. Or, maybe it is, sort of. I don’t know, just … can you let me join, please?”

“One, you hate exercise,” Indi points out. “Two, this is a girl’s class, and three, are you sure you’re up to it? I don’t want to have to pick up your lazy butt off the sand.”

Dex grins, “I don’t mind sharing with the ladies.” He glances down at the beach where the girls have started to arrive. They’re all around Indi’s age, in varying degrees of undress. Some are in crop tops, others in extremely short shorts, all showing a generous amount of skin.

“Oh, gross,” Indi says, and Dex just smiles. “Okay, fine. But no hitting on any of my clients.”

Dex holds up a hand, “Scouts honor.” He follows Indi towards the beach, feet sinking into the sand, and Dex has forgotten how difficult it is to purely walk on the loose sand, let alone if he gets to running. Indi looks over at him; Dex is trying to hide his puffing. He stands up straight, rolls back his shoulders and gives Indi a reassuring smile. “I won’t over do it, I promise.”

Indi gives him one nod before bringing her whistle between her lips and giving it one shrill blow. “Alright! Line up! Jog to the point and back then stretch!”

>><<

His whole head feels like it’s going to explode, chest tight as he sucks desperately to get air into his lungs in between taking gulps of water as Indi holds onto the drink bottle.

“I can’t believe you could be this irresponsible,” Sid scolds, pacing in front of Dex as he tries to regain his breath.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Indi replies, eyes flicking away from Dex’s flushed face to their father who is standing over them.

“I …“ Dex wheezes, “It was … my ... idea.”

“Indi, how could you let him do something like this?” Sid asks, arms flinging out from his side. “You know he’s not well, and –“

“I’m sorry,” Indi repeats.

“You’re lucky he’s only winded.”

“I know.”

Dex tries again, “I wanted to.”

Sid either doesn’t hear him, or is deliberately ignoring him. “He could have fainted or had another seizure –“

“I said I was sorry.”

“- Then what would you have done?”

Dad.” The sudden strength in Dex’s voice is startling, and just the exertion alone is enough to send his vision swimming. Little white lights dance in front of his face and Dex squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. He opens them slowly and looks up at his dad, who has finally stopped pacing and is crouching down in front of him. Dex takes a breath, “It was my idea.”

Sid’s face falls, tone surprisingly gentle when he asks, “Dex, what were you thinking?”

Dex gives an awkward half-shrug. “I just want – I wanted to –”

“Wanted to what?”

“I wanted to see if I could,” Dex says sadly. He knows the answer now; it’s not what he was hoping for, but he can’t say he’s altogether surprised by the outcome.

His dad sighs, places a hand on Dex’s knee. “Dexter,” he says, then nothing else. There’s nothing else to say, really.

Dex goes to stand, Sid immediately holding out a hand to support underneath Dex’s elbow. “I want to go home.”

>><<

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Part Twelve

Dex is finally dozing off when his phone begins to buzz. It skitters across his bedside table and Dex gropes blindly to reach it, not willing to open his eyes in the process.

“’lo?”

“Dex, hey,” April’s voice fills Dex’s ear and he immediately feels himself relax a little more. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” Dex says, although he thinks the yawn gives it away.

“I can call you tomorrow,” April says.

“No, it’s okay,” Dex insists. He wriggles his toes under his covers, rolls his shoulders, trying to wake himself up. Something stirs in Dex, a vague memory of terse conversation had earlier. He was mad; he’s supposed to be mad, isn’t he?

“How was – how was uni?”

“Yeah, it’s good. Really good. I finally feel like I’m finding my feet. I was walking with Cameron across the quad today, and someone invited me to an Ag Party this Friday, and I don’t even know them, but Cameron reckons we should go. He says that the Agriculture Faculty throw ridiculous parties, like, last time someone filled an inflatable pool with bubble bath.”

“Sounds fun,” Dex replies, but he knows his voice doesn’t mirror April’s enthusiasm. Just the sound of his name – Cameron – makes something prickle in Dex. He then drops his voice, tries to hide his disappointment. “I didn’t realize you and Cameron were a ‘we’.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and Dex hears a faint shuffling in the background. He pictures April adjusting the phone, kicking up her feet to sit cross-legged on her bed.

“I’m sorry you’ll miss it,” April says, but she doesn’t deny Dex’s accusation. “What did you do today?”

“Wrestled a tiger, painted an exact replica of the Mona Lisa, wrote a one hundred page script,’ Dex lists, “You know, the usual.”

“Sounds like you’ve been busy,” she replies. “Are you – are you okay?”

Dex knows he should tell April about what happened today. About the doctor’s appointment and the beach, but she sounds so good – happy for the first time since this all began – that he can’t bring himself to ruin it. April doesn’t deserve to be dragged down by Dex’s illness. And it’s not lying if he is going to tell her eventually. Besides, it’s not like the news is anything new. Once he knows more, Dex promises to himself that he will tell April everything. For now, Dex is just buying some time.

“Yeah,” Dex replies. “Why?”

“Before, you said something about Steph? From the hospital?” April begins, and Dex’s stomach feels like it physically knots.

“Um -?”

“I know it’s not really my business, and you don’t owe me an explanation or anything, but I just – ” April trails off and Dex stares up at his ceiling, braces himself.

“Wanted to know if it was true?” Dex ventures. “Yeah, it was.”

“Right.”

There’s silence and Dex wants to be able to explain. He wants the words to come so that he can tell April that it didn’t mean anything, she was just a hook up, and possibly only happened because Dex’s brain was being eaten from the inside, but nothing comes out.

There’s only one thing Dex needs to know, “Are we okay?”

There’s a moment of quiet and then he hears April take a breath before she says, “Yes, Dex. We’re okay. We’ll always be okay.”

“Good.” Dex reaches a hand up to cover his mouth as he yawns again, “Are you coming over tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s Thursday. I’ve got a double lecture in the morning and then a tutorial. I’ve got a giant gap in the middle of the day but was going to have a working lunch. I can cancel and come and see you instead if you want.”

It takes Dex a moment to process this. His brain becomes more than a little sluggish once he’s tired. He doesn’t remember when he closed his eyes, but his eyelids are heavy, and it takes an extra second for Dex to be able to open them again. “No, that’s okay. Just wondering …”

“Are you sure?” April asks. “Because I can sneak away early –”

“N-n-no,” Dex repeats, unable to curb his stutter.

April hums a little, a soothing tune, then says, “I should let you sleep.”

“’m okay,” Dex murmurs. He holds the phone to his ear and rolls over onto his side, letting his eyes close once more.

“Sweet dreams,” April says quietly, and Dex just hums a little in reply before he’s already drifting off again.

>><<

It’s not like he’s deliberately dwelling on April. He just keeps checking the time on his phone, wondering whether she’s sitting in a lecture theatre or holed up in the library, a wall of reference books caging her in. Or she’s sitting in a cozy campus coffee shop with Cameron, laughing, having a good time, not thinking about Dex.

“You’re going to give yourself a headache,” Sasha says from where she’s set up camp on the armchair. Her legs are crossed in front of her and she’s got a small bag nestled in her lap.

“Huh?” Dex looks up from where he’s staring down at his phone screen, thumb skimming over the screen, keeping it illuminated. Sasha raises her eyebrows and nods in the direction of Dex’s phone.

“April?” she guesses.

“How did you know?” Dex asks, placing his phone on the coffee table in front of them. “And I’ve always got a headache.”

Sasha’s face immediately falls, looks stricken. “Oh god, Dex. I didn’t – Do you want dad -?”

“No, no. Sash, I’m okay,” Dex says, trying to soothe his worrying sister. Her eyes are wide, searching Dex’s own. “Why is it that the first reaction to anything Dex says is to hit the panic button?” he wonders aloud.

Sasha seems to pull herself together, reaches for the bag in her lap and holds it out for Dex. “I bought you a present.”

Dex takes the bag and gives it a bit of a shake, trying to decipher what is inside. It rustles, feels soft through the bag, and Dex reaches inside and pulls out Sasha’s gift. The beanie is woolen, knitted and feels so soft between his fingers. It’s dark purple, almost black in colour and Dex pulls it on, adjusts it so it’s sitting on his scalp. His ears immediately feel warm and Dex grins at his sister.

“It looks good on you,” Sasha says.

“Thanks. Does it bring it out my eyes?”

Sasha nods in reply, then asks, “Are you okay?”

“Why does everyone ask that? What do you want me to say?”

Sasha goes uncharacteristically quiet, eyes flicking down to the phone on the coffee table, set amongst Dex’s pill bottles. “I know you’re not telling me everything, and I get it, I really do. It’s almost like –“ she bites down on her lip thoughtfully, still not really meeting Dex’s gaze, “I’m okay with not knowing what’s going on. It’s easier that way. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No,” Dex assures her, reaching out a hand and twining their fingers together. “No, it doesn’t.” He looks up from their hands, finally catching Sasha’s eye. “You know, it’s funny, when I sit in that doctor’s office, it’s like I just zone out. I thought I would be one of those people who Google everything and would want to know every minute detail, but I just … can’t. And April does enough research for the both of us.”

Sasha smiles sadly at Dex, “Then I guess we’re in the same boat.”

“A boat that has awesome taste in beanies.” They untangle their fingers, and Sasha lets her feet drop to the floor. “Hey, you want to help me with something?”

“What kind of something?”

“The kind of something that if dad found out the shock alone may cause him to …” Dex clicks his fingers in frustration. He had it this time, he was sure of it.

“Ground us for life? Explode?” Sasha guesses.

Dex nods, confirming, “Spontaneously combust.”

Sasha raises an enquiring eyebrow, “What did you have in mind?”

Sasha is only just learning to drive but Dex plans on being back before his father gets home and notices Dex’s car is gone. It was a replacement, after the accident, but he’s never really had a chance to drive it.

While Sasha finds her L-plates, Dex gathers up some supplies and climbs into the passenger’s seat. She looks a little apprehensive, glancing over at Dex, who just nods before she turns the key and waits for the engine to turn over.

They pull up in the Surf Club car park just as the sun is beginning to go down. The thing about living so close to the beach is that as soon as the sun starts to lower in the sky, all the heat and warmth of the day is replaced by a cool, crisp breeze and Dex has to pull his beanie down further on his head to stop it from whistling straight through his ears and into his head.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sasha asks after she has turned off the engine and follows as Dex awkwardly gets out of the vehicle.

There are surfers walking up the beach, boards tucked under their arms and wetsuits unzipped. Some are rinsing off at the showers or packing up their belongings on the grass. They know that the day is coming to an end.

But Dex takes a deep breath, feels the salty air seep into his lungs. The wind whips at their faces and Sasha pulls her coat tight and Dex sniffles as his nose starts to run.

“I did not factor in the weather,” Dex says, mostly to himself as they make their way towards the sandy path between the dunes, leading down to the beach. He stumbles slightly when his shoes start to sink in the sand, knees wobbling in the uneven terrain. Sasha keeps her eyes on him at all times, but doesn’t say anything despite the fact that he knows he’s slowing her down.

When they reach the flatter part of the beach, Dex collapses onto the sand, just above the high tide line. He adjusts his beanie so it’s covering his ears, and then bends his knees up to his chest before tucking in his chin. Sasha sits beside him, waits until the sun is just beginning to sit low on the horizon before she finally asks, “So, are you now going to tell be what we’re doing here?

“Number nine,” Dex says, like it’s some sort of explanation. He looks across, sees Sasha’s confused expression before elaborating, “I made a list. And this is number nine on it.”

“Sitting on the beach?” Sasha queries.

“Watching the sun set.”

“Wait,” Sasha says, “You made a list? Like, a bucket list? Dex, what’s –”

“Sshhh,” Dex hushes, pressing a finger to his lips.

The beach is quiet, no birds to be seen as the sky turns from pale to orange, slipping into darkness. From behind them the Surf Club lights flicker on, but Dex doesn’t let it distract him. He blinks rapidly, uses the back of his hand to wipe away the tears that Dex is going to attribute to the cold night wind and not anything else he might be thinking about.

It’s not that he’s never seen the sun set before – when he and April walked across the quad after a late lecture, he used to have to squint to find her car across the car park, the low sun reflecting off the bonnets of the cars – but this feels different, more final somehow.

He’s not giving up; just preparing himself, is all.

Dex can feel Sasha’s eyes on him, her continual glances as she alternates between looking out over the ocean, the waves beginning to rise up and thump the sand at progressively more frequent intervals, and watching him.

“I didn’t make the list to make anyone upset,” Dex explains. Sasha blinks slowly, looks down at her hands, before wrapping her arms around her body, trying to keep out some of the cold. “I did it for me.”

“Why would you need a list? You’re not –” Dex hears the slight tremor in her voice. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

Dex looks across as Sasha, the tip of her nose pink, and he angles himself towards her. “I don’t want t-to.”

Sasha takes a shaky breath, before reaching out wrapping her arms around him. “I don’t want you to,” she whispers.

He can’t tell her about the doctor’s appointment, the open, pitying expression as Dr Mason explained that while the tumor that was still inside Dex hadn’t grown in size, it wasn’t getting any smaller either. It was a ‘wait and see’-type scenario.

There was a discussion of more chemo, or starting the radiation sooner rather than later. “We want to nip this thing in the bud,” Sid had said at the time when Dex couldn’t find his voice to offer any sort of reply.

Looking up and down the beach, Dex sees they are the last ones left. The sky is an inky blue, and glancing up he expects to see a sky of stars. Its dark, overcast and cloudy, the lights of the metropolitan stopping any stars blinking through.

Dex begins to untie his shoelaces, and awkwardly stumbles to his feet.

He’s pulling off his jumper as Sasha looks up, alarmed, “What are you doing?”

“Number One.”

“What’s number one?”

Before he takes off his jeans, Dex pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to his sister. She’s thankfully looking down, scanning Dex’s scrawling writing – much more shaky and uneven, even with lines, than it was pre-surgery – as he removes his undershirt, the wind whipping around his body. It feels like shards of ice stabbing into his ribs and Dex rubs at his arms vigorously to try and generate some heat.

Skinny dipping?!” Sasha demands, “Are you crazy?” Dex hops from one foot to the other. He can’t stand out in the cold night air for much longer. The hairs on his arms stand on end, he can feel his body ripple as he shivers, while the cold is piercing through him to his core. But Dex is not going to change his mind.

With a deep breath, Dex finally takes off his beanie, the wind whistling through his ears and exclaims, “Maybe I am!” before he takes off towards the ocean.

Sasha watches as her brother - her absolutely insane brother - walk-skip-jogs into the night sea. It’s dark, the waves growing in intensity as the wind picks up, and all Sasha can see is the stark paleness of Dex’s skin, his back bare and white, as he goes straight in. A wave greets him at his shins and with two large strides Dex is up to his neck, his head the only part of him now bobbing above the surface.

He turns back to Sasha on the beach and for a split second all she sees is Dex’s face. With his wide eyes and broad, unguarded grin, and she can forget that he’s sick. Can forget that the only reason Dex is naked in the ocean after dark is because he’s scared he won’t be around to do it later. That all he wants is a moment of normalcy and to be his old self again, go back to a time when he only had to worry about doctor’s appointments and test results that weren’t his own.

And just as quickly, something turns, the swell rises and Dex’s laughing, smiling face disappears underneath the waves. Sasha is up, darting towards the break, the waves lapping at her ankles.

“Dex!”

She scans the water, but its dark, little light being provided from the sky above and Sasha can barely tell when each wave is going to crash, and she’s almost balled over as the sand is swept out from under her feet.

“Dex!” Sasha yells, “DEXTER!”

She’s panicking, frantically calling and searching, scouring the waves, before she sees something break the surface. Dex is still up to his neck in water but he’s only a couple of metres from where Sasha is standing, up to her knees in water just before the break. She reaches out, plunges her hand under the water and grabs Dex by the arm, heaving him up to his feet. It’s not deep here, but the waves are constant, hitting them both, and Sasha has to haul him up, dragging Dex back towards the sand, out of the waves before he can get his feet under his body so he’s standing, staggering back up the beach.

Dex is on his hands and knees, coughing and spluttering, hacking and vomiting up sea water and Sasha doesn’t even think, ignores the stark visibility of Dex’s ribs, the way his skin is seems to be just hanging off his skeleton, nothing underneath, just picks up Dex’s dry shirt and uses it to start drying off his body. His skin is cold, and the material is drenched within seconds as she starts trying to get rid of the access water that seems to be sticking to her brother’s skin.

Although he’s stopped vomiting, Dex is still shaking, the wind whipping around them both making Sasha shiver, but she can’t focus on anyone but Dex.

“B-b-b-“ Dex is stuttering, his whole body shivering, trembling, and Sasha tries to shush him, soothe him, with a constant stream of, “It’s okay it’s okay you’re okay.”

“B-b-blanket,” Dex’s teeth chatter as Sasha shoves his beanie back onto his head.

“Yeah, I know it’s cold,” Sasha says, grabbing Dex’s jumper off the sound and wrapping it around Dex’s shoulders.

“N-no no,” Dex ‘s eyes are squeezed shut and Sasha can see the water leaking out of them, but she can’t tell if it’s tears or rogue droplets from the ocean. “In the c-car.”

“What? The car?” Sasha glances towards surf club, invisible past the sand dunes where she parked Dex’s car, and then she realizes what Dex is trying to tell her. “There’s a blanket in the car, god, okay. Will you be okay? I’ll be quick, I promise,” she tells him in a hurry before Sasha is running back towards the car and finding the blanket that Dex keeps on the back seat.

When she gets back to the beach Dex is on his side, knees pulled up to his chest. He’s managed to get his head through the hole of his jumper but hasn’t bothered with his arms. His eyes are closed, bottom lip quivering as Sasha wraps the blanket around Dex’s tiny frame, pulling it tight around him shoulders.

Sasha rubs at his arms, tries to coax Dex into a sitting position, “Better, this is better, right?” she babbles. She needs to keep moving, keeps focusing on Dex, can’t think about herself or the cold. She won’t let herself cry, not now, “You’ll warm up soon. Please. Dex, please don’t fall asleep.”

>><<

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Part Thirteen

The panic has subsided now that they are back in the car. Dex has his head resting on the passenger window, eyes closed but Sasha doesn’t think he’s sleeping. With every rise of his chest, there’s a shaky exhale, wheezing out and it finally hits Sasha how fragile her brother is.

He’s not the loud, spontaneous boy she knew. He’s smaller, not just in physical size, but more timid too. He’s got limitations, lines drawn in the sand that weren’t there before, no matter how hard he might try to ignore them. But if she’s honest, Sasha has been ignoring them too.

Sasha used to be worried about her place in the Walker family. She didn’t share Indi and Dex’s surname, couldn’t reminisce about their history, and was terrified of being left out. But her and Dex had clicked, small pieces falling into place as Sasha found the things that bonded them, the traits and experiences that were stronger than a name. And as three siblings, Sasha always thought nothing would break them; a three-chord strand that’s perfectly in tune or a tripod that could stand firm on anything. Now, she’s not so sure.

Sasha pulls into the driveway, a small bump as she drives over the curb rouses Dex. He blinks his eyes open slowly, licks at his lips and squints through the front window.

“H-h-home?”

“Yeah,” Sasha says, “Yeah, we’re home.”

Turning off the engine, Sasha sees the dark house ahead; they didn’t think to leave any lights on. Dex pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders, teeth still chattering slightly, cheeks shallow but slowly regaining some colour.

Her fingers on the latch, Sasha is about to step out of the car when she hears Dex’s quiet, trembling tone. “W-wait.”

Sasha relaxes her grip, sits back in her seat, keeping her breathing even.

Dex opens his mouth like he’s about to say something and then thinks better of it. I takes a moment before he can make any sound come out. “So-sorry.”

“Dex, you don’t –“

“Let me f-fi-finish.” Dex keeps his eyes trained through the front window, Sasha giving an imperceptible nod, waiting for Dex. It’s strange how, now when Dex is looking to get the most out of the number of days he might have, everything seems to take more time. She feels Dex’s frustration as he grunts a little, his brain lagging as he tries to string together the apology he wants to make.

There’s no one home; tonight, they have time.

“It’s d-dumb. I thought that if I could -- if I made that list then -- then I’d have a -“ Dex’s lips shake, and he sniffs, the cold having seeped into his bones. He struggles for the word, but Sasha doesn’t push. She waits. “If I could do that stuff on the list then I – I wouldn’t be that sick kid anymore. But this isn’t going away, is it?”

Dex’s eyes are wide, almost pleading, as he looks across at Sasha in the driver’s seat, silently begging her to prove him wrong. To argue emphatically that nothing has changed, that he’s still the same big brother he always was, that he’s not going to die, but –

Her lack of reply is deafening.

Dex’s bottom lip trembles, and Sasha knows it not from the cold.

“Let’s get you inside. You’ll feel better once you’re warmer,” Sasha says softly.

Reluctantly, and with only a moment’s hesitation, Dex takes his shaking hands and removes his seatbelt.

At first, Dex wants to shrug off Sasha’s help, the elbow she offers to help Dex keep his balance as he shuffles his way from the car up the porch and into the house. But it’s a struggle for Dex to simply untangle himself from his seatbelt and keep the blanket around his shoulders. Sasha’s hand remains outstretched, ready to pick up the blanket, should it drop too low. Dex is doing fine, he tells himself – tries not to focus on the way his body still shivers a little with every movement – until his brains slips, he forgets to look where he’s stepping and his feet become entangled in the edge of the blanket and he almost goes sprawling.

So he lets Sasha grab his elbow, help him back to his feet, and tuck in his doona. Dex is so tired by the time he gets his pyjamas on, including his favourite fluffy socks, that he barely notices that Sasha disappeared for a while there while he was getting changed and slips a hot water bottle into his bed.

It’s a helpless, sinking feeling. One that’s been plaguing him for months and up to this point Dex could convince himself that it would go away. That he would wake up one morning and not be the liability to his family he sees himself as. He could make lists so he would have something to do. He would slowly tick each of them off and by the time he reached the end of it, everything would be back to normal.

Or at least, that was the plan.

But just as the water swept the sand out from under his feet, Dex is now drowning in a sea of uncertainty. Waves crashing over him and he feels his entire body lurch in a knee-jerk reaction causing Dex to jolt himself awake.

His entire room is dark and Dex feels for the water bottle between his sheets, finds it near his back, now cooled to room temperature. Dex’s skin is sticky, prickled with heat and sweat, although Dex feels that he’s still cold. He rolls over, gropes blindly for his phone and pokes at the screen until it lights, overwhelmingly bright against his eyes in the dark. He squints at the screen, sees the multiple texts from April, but with his vision blurred with sleep Dex can’t read them.

He drops his phone back onto the bedside table and rolls over, squeezing his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to deal with any of it right now.

>><<

April doesn’t want to seem like she’s pushing. She’s sent a few texts last night and hasn’t heard back. She thinks about calling Dex, just seeing how he’s going because she feels bad about waking him up on Wednesday night. She has her thumb hovering over Dex’s name when she hears her name being called.

“April!” She looks up, quickly puts her phone face down on the table, as Cameron approaches. He slides into the seat opposite, already accepting the coffee cup April had pre-ordered for him. “This,” he says, taking a sip of the beverage, “This is what I needed. God, you’re amazing.”

This is something they’ve started doing; meeting in between classes for coffee. Sometimes April goes to Cameron’s office after she’s been to her last lecture of the day and over coffee he reads through her latest paper while April does the prescribed reading for her next class. Sometimes, like today, they meet in the university cafeteria, Cameron not having much time in between his tutoring commitments even though April has finished her classes for the day.

“You know those moments when you actually worry about the future of humanity? I had a student come up to me today and ask whether you could have a set of identical twins that wasn’t two boys or two girls. Like, she genuinely wanted to know if you could have a boy and girl and be identical twins. All I kept thinking was, you are studying to be a doctor, and you could be operating on someone’s brain one day. That worries me, and you aren’t really listening to me, are you?”

April blinks across at Cameron. He’s put his mug down on the table and reaches a hand out. He touches the back of April’s hand as it still cups her phone.

“Has something happened?”

April shakes her head, eyes flicking down to her phone. “No, I don’t think so. I haven’t heard anything.”

“That’s good news, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I suppose. I think –“ April says, “I think Dex is trying to give me some space.”

Cameron nods. “Space is good.” April mirrors his movement, gives him a small nod in agreement. He shifts in his chair, leans across the table towards her. “And speaking of space, did you want me to pick you up tonight or did you want to meet there?”

“Um,” April watches Cameron for a moment, hesitation seeping in. Up to now, April had been able to convince herself that Cameron was being kind. He knows about Dex, of course he wants to make sure April was doing okay; it’s the decent thing to do. April tells herself that she visits Cameron in his office for the experience of it. She likes the structure and the routine of the organization. It feels good to be able to put things in order, when other parts of her life feel further out of her control. It’s not obsessive when you do it for someone else, April tells herself.

April could reconcile with herself that Cameron and her were friends. They hang out outside of class and April enjoys the way he retells stories of students and his co-workers. He uses his hands and always ends with a rhetorical question that April isn’t supposed to answer. But to acknowledge there is something more, that April maybe wants to explore the possibility of something more between them, feels like a step into the unknown. It’s taking a step off the edge of the cliff when Dex is still on the ledge, unable to jump off after her.

“I mean, obviously it’s your call, but I just figure, it would make sense to go together. I know the Ag guys and they can be a little full-on and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Cameron is patiently waiting, like he has been since the start. He hasn’t pushed or rushed April to make a decision, has never asked her to choose between him and Dex. But April knows sometimes you can’t keep people waiting, eventually they will walk away.

“Sure,” April says finally and Cameron smiles.

“Excellent. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

>><<

“You’re going out,” Bianca observes as April finishes applying her makeup in the bathroom mirror.

April ignores her, focuses on making sure she doesn’t smudge her mascara before she straightens up and checks her hair for one final time.

“So?” April asks, turning towards her sister.

“Nothing,” Bianca replies, “Just saying. You haven’t been out in a while.”

“I go out,” April refutes, walking past Bianca and into the living room. She picks up her cardigan off the back of the lounge, and then adjusts the pleat in her dress.

“Going to Dex’s doesn’t count as ‘going out’,” Bianca points out. “And you’re dressed up, so he must be pretty cute.”

“Stop,” April says, fishing her phone from off the kitchen counter. She checks for any new messages. Cameron said he would text when he was parked out the front of her house, because April insisted that he didn’t come in for precisely this reason: Bianca.

“I’m just happy for you,” Bianca says, stepping forward. She places a hand on each of April’s shoulders, meeting her eye. “You deserve to date other people. Just because Dex is –”

“Seriously, stop,” April says, much more angrily than she intended. She steps out of her sister’s grasp and Bianca looks a little stunned. “Sorry. I’m just – this isn’t a big deal. I don’t want it to be a big deal.”

Bianca holds up her hands in surrender. “Okay, not a big deal.”

“Thank you.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Bianca says, “I feel like we haven’t really talked for a while.”

April shrugs, “I’ve been busy.”

Her phone pings in her hand, a message from Cameron saying he’s just pulled up outside April’s house when she’s ready. Can’t wait to see you ;) he signs the message and something in April’s stomach knots. She heads for the door.

“Busy with Mr Mysterious Text Message,” Bianca calls and April just shoots her sister a pointed look, because she knows Bianca cares. She knows she’s only trying to take care of April because god knows she needs more people asking if she’s handling everything okay.

Cameron is leaning on the passenger’s door of the car waiting for April as she walks down the driveway. He lets out a whistle as soon as he sees her.

“You look amazing,” he tells her, doesn’t hesitate in going in for a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. April can’t do much but pat his back a little awkwardly. When they pull apart April just smiles politely and Cameron opens the car door, allowing April to get in.

The party is being held at a share house not too far from the university. There are small multi-coloured lights bordering a cobblestone path that cuts up the front lawn, leading to the front door. The bass of dance music is muffled through the large wooden door, and it engulfs them as Cameron opens it and gestures for April to enter before him.

Glancing around April sees that most of the furniture has been pushed against the walls, creating more space in the middle of the communal living quarters where people are already standing around with a drink in each hand.

To April’s relief it isn’t too crowded, just a comfortable amount of people milling around, getting drinks from the kitchen, catching up, gesturing enthusiastically. Cameron touches April’s shoulder lightly, “You want a drink?”

She nods, because she’s at a party and this is what you do at parties. Cameron disappears into the kitchen and April just hangs back against the wall, watching a few more people arrive. Cameron returns with two cups, one in each hand, an orange liquid in them.

“Punch?” Cameron asks and April accepts the glass in his right hand. The ice cubes clank dully against the plastic sides of the cup and April tastes fruit as she takes her first sip. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight.”

April takes a moment, feels the slight burn of the alcohol in her throat. She swallows, looks across at Cameron who is also leaning back on the wall beside her. “Really?”

“Of course,” Cameron says. “I always enjoy spending time with you.”

April feels the heat creep into her cheeks and she stares down at the lip of her cup. The punch is cool through the plastic and she takes another careful sip for something to do.

She isn’t used to this: being social. Being around people who don’t know her every intimate detail. They don’t know Dex, their history, or how she copes when everything becomes too much. People come up to her, guys and girls she recognizes vaguely from some of her classes, and ask her how she’s going, just because that’s what you do at a party, not because you have some hidden agenda.

There’s a large group of them now, standing in one corner. Alex, a guy from April’s anatomy tutorials, has just gone around the circle and asked with grave seriousness what their favourite type of cake was. There were groans and laughs as people gave their answers, some of them like it were a dirty confession and April is smiling.

Slowly, the noise level of the party increases. More people arrive in various states of inebriation and April feels herself loosening too. She’s still on her first glass of punch, but as she drains the final drop, Cameron takes the empty cup from her hand and places it down on a nearby crowded coffee table. And then, without a second’s hesitation, holds April’s hand.

April’s heart leaps into her throat.

“I have this theory, see, that everybody likes cake,” Alex explains, “Not that everyone likes the same cake specifically, but that there is a flavour of cake that each person will eat.”

No one notices. No one blinks an eyelid as Cameron holds their hands between their bodies, and slowly April’s pulse slows.

“Is this what you are accumulating tens of thousands of dollars of debt for?” Josie laughs.

“I’m just saying, if someone wants to give me a million dollars to turn this into a full-time study I wouldn’t have to worry about this ‘becoming a doctor business’,” Alex replies.

“What about people who say they don’t like cake?” Jamie asks, pointedly.

“Ah,” Alex muses, “They just haven’t found the right cake.”

“Hold the phone, someone just give this man a grant, already!” Rhys exclaims, raising his beer in Alex’s general direction. April’s eyes automatically dart up to Cameron, sees him laugh, small wrinkles creasing at the corners of his eyes and he catches her glance, smiles broadly.

“Cameron, you have friends in high places, right?” Josie asks. “Clearly, this is something the university should fund.” She’s grinning widely, looks at Cameron pointedly over the lip of her own glass. He directs his attention back to the circle, away from April.

“I will see what I can do,” he replies diplomatically.

The volume gets turned up, and there is more drinks, more food, more music and Aprils finds herself being lead to the dance floor. Cameron’s hands take hers and people surround her on all sides, moving in time to the beat. They don’t notice her as they let their bodies move with a reckless abandon that April has never been good at. But, Cameron leads her out there. In a room with a landscape painting of the coast on the wall, someone’s family photo on the mantel and well-worn plush carpet underfoot, April lets herself dance.

She shifts from foot to foot, Cameron twirling her in time to the music, his hands finding their way from simply holding hers to resting on her hips. The lights go out but the music pulses, the song changing to something that warrants whoops and whistles, and more people flood the floor.

Someone has found glitter and it rains from above, sending tiny specks into the crowd. Cameron tugs her closer, a fleck of silver catching on in his hair and he laughs, their bodies brushing up against one another and April looks across at this guy who simply stares at her. Not like she’s fragile or broken, but like she’s special.

So when the song changes again and Cameron points towards the back of the house April follows. She has to duck under people’s arms, dodge around drunken uni students on uneasy legs to make it to the backyard. There’s a group huddled together on a cement slab, and from what April can tell the yard isn’t more than a patches of dead grass that crunches underneath her heels, but it’s hard to tell in the dark.

The night air is refreshing, cold against her hot skin, and April shivers at the sudden drop in temperature.

April turns around, catches Cameron’s lingering glance and she smiles. His eyes shift upwards as if surveying the starless sky and April feels something stir inside her. She takes a step forward.

“You’ve got a little …” April reaches up, brushes at the top of Cameron’s head to dislodge some of the glitter.

“Leave it,” he says, voice low as his eyes flick down, dark lashes casting shadows against his cheeks. His hand finds April’s back, presses lightly and April feels the warmth of his skin through her dress. She tries not to shiver as Cameron leans forward, hovers for a moment, a prominent space between them, lips parted.

When he kisses her, April feels her body tremble. Just for a moment. And then, something settles and she lets him tug her a little closer, angling her head to the side as she feels his mouth move against hers.

>><<

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  • 2 weeks later...

Part Fourteen

There’s a knock on Dex’s door and he tilts his head up so that he’s just peering over the top of the blankets that have been piled high on his bed, and sees his dad stick his head into his bedroom.

“It’s been four days,” Sid says, looking at his son. Dex doesn’t reply; just shuffles further down into his blanket cocoon. His dad sighs before he enters the room. He comes across to the bed, starts collecting up the used tissues and tossing them in Dex’s small desk bin.

April hasn’t texted him. Sasha won’t stop making him tea and leaving it on his bedside table where it just goes cold. Indi and Romeo try to coax him out with movie marathons.

His dad is still pottering around his room, but Dex doesn’t care. He coughs, hears the slight rattle of his chest - which he takes as a justification for his bed-bounded-ness - and rolls over, closing his eyes.

“I know you need your rest and you haven’t been feeling well these past few days, but you can’t stay in bed forever. There are things to do, people to see – I’ve noticed April hasn’t been here recently. Why don’t you two go to Yabbie Creek? I’m sure there’s a sci-fi movie you could go and see.”

Dex keeps his eyes shut, hears his dad’s footsteps somewhere near his head. There’s the slight clatter of china as he picks up the multiple mugs, moving them around.

“You could always start studying again. I’m not talking full-time classes or anything, but a bit of reading, just to keep your mind active. You used to be so interested – I remember having to physically come and take the textbook out of your hands before you would come out for dinner.”

He must be near Dex’s desk. The part-written essays and half-read articles on his laptop, sticky notes and pens sticking out of his books, keeping tabs of his progress. It all seems so long ago now.

“What happened to that blog you used to keep? I’m sure you could pick that up –” For a moment there is quiet, and Dex thinks his dad is going to finally get the hint and leave him alone. But then his dad says, “Dex, I need you to look at me.”

There’s something in his tone, a seriousness that completely contrasts to the inconsequential suggestions he was offering one minute ago. Reluctantly, Dex turns his head, finds his dad standing near the foot of his bed, a small notebook in his hand.

“What is this?”

He holds up the book and Dex knows what it is.

There was a moment, the second night after the beach when Dex’s head felt like it would explode and he couldn’t breathe through his nose. His voice rasped and throat felt like it was made of sandpaper and Dex just couldn’t do it anymore. He threw back his covers, letting out a frustrated grunt as he got to his feet, the room spinning a little before he found his balance.

Dex had always enjoyed making a list, being able to cross each item off as he achieved it gave him a certain sense of satisfaction. But as he looked down at the bucket list all he saw was defeat. A series of things – go skydiving, meet The Queen, build a ball pit – which he would never be able to cross off. He couldn’t even go swimming at the beach anymore without becoming a shivering and sniffling mess.

He’d thrown the book across the room, the pages nose-diving into the carpet. Dex just crawled back into bed, leaving it there.

Dex shrugs, although with the blankets this high around his chin, he doesn’t know whether his dad can see it.

Sid looks down at the book once more before he closes it, places it back on Dex’s desk, on top of the piles of untouched schoolwork. He then comes over to the bed, the mattress sinking down as he perches on the side.

“We haven’t really talked since that doctor’s appointment,” Sid says, watching Dex carefully. “I know the result wasn’t what we were hoping for, but that doesn’t mean you can just bury your head in the sand. Or –“ He tugs on Dex’s bed covers, pulling them down to Dex’s chest, “the blankets.”

“Don’t,” Dex croaks, immediately reaching out to snatch the covers back up.

“No, Dexter. Enough is enough. We need to talk about this.”

“No, we don’t,” Dex retorts. He holds the blankets firm, ducking his chin down, trying to cover his face again.

“There are other options –”

Dex shakes his head, “No.”

“Another round of chemo –“

No.”

“Radiotherapy –“

No, dad!” The outburst sends Dex into a fit of coughs, the loud bark filling Dex’s quiet room. Dex’s throat hurts and Sid looks a little stunned by his son’s sudden aggression. He takes a couple of breaths, swallows, and then says as evenly as he can, “It’s my body, my decision. Now, I just want to sleep.”

With a long sigh Sid stands, heads towards Dex’s door, picking up the dirty mugs as he goes.

As soon as Sid closes the bedroom door, Dex knows he’s hurt him. He doesn’t want to hurt those around him. He is basically doing all of this to reduce the damage he’s going to cause. Dex has resigned himself to the fact that he’s not going to complete his bucket list. He may or may not even make it to his own university graduation, but the biggest worry he has - the one that makes Dex feel crippling fear deep inside, the thing that is keeping him in his bed and hidden under a mound of blankets - is the knowledge that he’s going to leave them all behind.

Dex knows his place in his family. He’s the funny one, the straight A student, the over-achiever. He’s the one that interrogates Sasha’s present and future boyfriends. He’s the one who used to sneak into Indi’s bedroom from the age of 12 to 14 on the nights when he could hear his parent’s fighting in the living room. He’s the one April used to call when she was up against a deadline and was freaking out. They would spend their evenings in April’s bedroom, sprawled across her bed, each of them on their computers, trading essays back and forth, working late into the night.

Dex knows how he fits into their lives, slips easily in and out and into his role like it was made perfectly for him, but if Dex is removed from the equation, who will fill his part? How will his family go on without him there to step into his shoes?

It’s not that Dex has a particularly high opinion of himself. That he wants to have monuments built to him so that he won’t be forgotten. That it is incomprehensible that his family could possibly manage without his wit and wise ways. It’s not that at all.

They will find a way to keep moving forward, he knows they will. But Dex’s family shouldn’t have to.

He’s staring at the ceiling, hands resting behind his head, when Casey just flings the door open and walks straight in, surveying the state of Dex’s bed.

There’s no knock on the door, no polite head poking in to see if Dex is sleeping or is awake, he just comes in with no warning whatsoever and says by way of a greeting, “Nice Star Wars sheets.”

“I’m not really in the mood for visitors,” Dex replies, keeping his eyes trained to the ceiling.

“I’m not in the mood for putting on pants most days and yet here we are,” Casey counters.

“Please don’t take off your pants,” Dex deadpans.

“Would that be too much of a distraction?” Casey asks. “Blow your little brain by my overwhelming attractiveness?”

“Did my dad call you?”

“God, no. Your dad still terrifies me, dude. No offense.”

Casey is wandering around Dex’s room, kicking laundry off the floor that Dex has neglected to put away. He comes to Dex’s bookshelves, runs a finger along the spine of his shelf of novels before he picks up one of his action figures. He turns back to Dex.

“Have you seen April recently?”

Dex shrugs, “Been busy.”

“Yeah, you look really flat out,” Casey replies, wiggling the arm of the figurine in Dex’s direction. He places it action figure back on the shelf, a little off-centre of where it was originally and something in Dex twitches. He wants to fix it.

Casey comes back around Dex’s bed, pulls up the chair from his desk, and sits down. He stares at Dex.

Dex looks back at him, “Was there something you wanted?”

“Why haven’t you seen April?”

“I’ve been sick, okay?”

Casey scoffs, “Like that ever stopped you before.”

“Why are you suddenly so –” Dex stops suddenly, mind blanking. He knows what he wants to say, feels it on the tip of his tongue, but nothing comes out. He struggles a little, wriggling up the bed until he’s leaning back on his headboard.

Dex feels the unfinished sentence hang in the air, but he’s lost his entire train of thought by now. Casey either doesn’t care or is deliberately ignoring him, cutting in with his own question, “Did you know April was seeing that doctor guy?”

Dex shrugs, “She can see whoever she likes.”

“And you don’t care in the slightest?” Dex shakes his head. “That they were at the Diner together, sitting across from each other in one of those booths, drinking coffee, sharing meaningful looks …” Casey trails off, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Is there a point to this?”

“Come on, you can’t tell me that doesn’t **** you off.”

“So, what if it does?”

Casey shrugs, uses his feet to swivel around on Dex’s chair. He does a couple of slow rotations before coming to rest. He’s facing towards the desk, his back to Dex.

Dex can’t see what Casey is doing and he’s debating whether he can just roll over and pretend Casey isn’t there and he’ll get the hint to just leave. One thing Dex definitely doesn’t want to face is the knowledge that April has totally moved on from him. And if this is all the news Casey has to offer then Dex doesn’t want to hear it.

“This is the dumbest thing ever,” Casey says.

Dex sighs, “Look I don’t know if someone sent you here to give me a pep talk, or whatever, but April has made her choice, so –”

“Sshhh!” Casey shushes Dex, waving a hand behind his head and cutting Dex off. His head is bowed slightly, looking down and when he turns back around he’s got Dex’ notebook in his lap, reading every word. “Is this the best you could come up with?”

Dex blinks, “What -? Yes, no – I mean. I thought we were talking about April.”

“’Meet the Queen?’ Seriously?

“Can we stick to one topic at a time?” Dex asks. Casey looks up, surveys Dex for a moment like he’s confused. Maybe Dex didn’t make himself clear enough. “I mean, with the tumor and everything, it takes me a bit longer to keep up with conversations.”

“No,” Casey says.

“I’m sorry?”

“No,” Casey says again. “Your problem is not the tumor.”

Dex shifts on his bed, sitting up a little further while Casey gets up from the chair. He starts pacing back and forth in front of Dex’s bed the notebook with Dex’s bucket list still open in the palm of his hand.

“It’s that you’ve become a quitter.” Dex opens his mouth to dispute this, but Casey ploughs on, completing ignoring his stutter. “This whole cancer thing has become a convenient excuse for not doing things, for being a failure. You know I wasn’t ever a good student. Sure, some of that was because I just didn’t get it, but part of it was because no one in my family has ever been what you would call ‘academic’. So, I figured, if people expected me to turn up late and forget to do assignments, then that’s what I’d do. If people don’t expect you to try then, what’s the point in putting in the effort? The people around here are always going to see my surname and know I’m a Braxton and assume I’m a drop out like the rest of them. Did you know I’m the first person in my family to actually pass year 12?”

Dex doesn’t know what to say. He can’t meet Casey’s eye, fiddles with the tie on his pyjama pants.

“No,” he says finally. “I didn’t know that.”

Casey comes back over to Dex, perches on the edge of the chair again. He places the open notebook on Dex’s bed, near Dex’s leg. “See, I’m not as dumb as people think I am. And you aren’t as dead as you think you are.”

Dex sighs, sadly, “I had a doctor’s appointment. They said the tumor hadn’t shrunk as much as they thought it would.” He hears the way his voice breaks at the end, feels the sting of tears. He hasn’t talked about this with anyone: not his dad, Indi, Sasha, April. He swallows thickly, his fingers finding the edge of his notebook, absentmindedly flattening out a bent corner. “I’m just tired, and what if I go through all of it again and it doesn’t make any difference?”

“But what if it does?”

Casey asks it so simply, and sitting there fit and healthy, it probably is to him. But to Dex, it feels like the smallest light at the end of the longest tunnel. Barely there, and if you walk down that tunnel alone, you can’t guarantee you won’t be hit by a train.

“Look at this list,” Casey says, “This isn’t you. If you’re going to make a bucket list, you’ve at least got to make it good. Go down in a blaze of glory!”

“I’m confused,” Dex says, “Do you want me to re-write my list?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, man,” Casey says, “But, if you had the choice, right now, what is the one thing you want more than anything?”

April.

It comes to him instantly.

He thinks it should be shocking, startling to realize that the one thing, the one person, who would make him want to fight this thing, is April. But it’s not. It seems so true, so easy, so simple. And for the first time in almost a week, Dex imagines a future where he isn’t sick, where he can go back to work and finish university and get married and have children. And the one constant, the person he can look over and see smiling up at him as he takes his diploma, or standing opposite him on the other side of the aisle is April.

But there’s a reason they aren’t together. A reason why Casey Braxton is the one making him realize this and metaphorically slapping him around the head and telling him to get up.

He thought he didn’t have a choice. That April had made her decision – to go on and leave Dex behind – and there was nothing Dex could do. But the only reason April is going on out without him is because Dex is the one still at the starting line.

Dex swings his feet off the bed, takes a moment to place them carefully on the carpet. He hasn’t been vertical in a while and the last thing he wants is to stand up and promptly pass out in front of Casey. Not when there is somewhere he desperately needs to be.

Casey watches him carefully as Dex grabs his beanie off the bedside table. He glances across at Casey who is now standing in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

“Going somewhere, sunshine?” Casey asks, his lips quirked up into a sly grin.

Dex strides over to him. “I need you to drive me to uni,” he tells him, and Casey’s face breaks into a smile.

Casey fishes his keys out of his pocket, jangling them in front of Dex’s face.

“Hang on,” Dex says, and he turns back into his room. He quickly goes over to his bookshelf and straightens his action figures, making sure they are perfectly aligned.

>><<

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Part Fifteen

Leaves flutter at April’s feet as she steps out of the lecture theatre. She adjusts the bag on her shoulder, pulls her scarf a little closer and takes out her phone. There’s a text from Bianca, asking if April is going to be home for dinner – and will you be bringing company? ;).

April shifts from foot to foot, trying to decide what she should say. It’s still very new, her and Cameron, and even after getting lunch or dinner every day this week April is still struggling to call him anything more than her lecturer who is sort of more than her friend.

There’s a noise from behind and April turns back towards the building. Cameron hoists his own bag over his shoulder and smiles across at April.

“I don’t know about you, but that was the most fascinating lecture on the lymphatic system I’ve ever heard.”

April ducks her head, places her phone back into her pocket. “That’s because you gave the lecture.”

Cameron snaps his fingers, “I knew I liked that guy for a reason.”

When he reaches April he leans across to kiss her. April turns her head, accepting it on her cheek. Cameron doesn’t seem fazed; he steps in beside April and begins walking beside her down the footpath towards the quad.

“Now, I have a stack of mid-semester marking to do, but I could be persuaded to blow it off …” Cameron trails off, casting a look in April’s direction.

“Aren’t you supposed to set a good example?” April asks by way of a reply.

“Hey, I am a wonderful example,” Cameron says, “I am an example of everything you can become if you study hard, pay attention in class and then accept a cushy job at a university rather than working in a real hospital.”

April stops walking, looks across at Cameron. His face is serious and April’s brow furrows for a moment before Cameron can no longer hide his smile. He laughs easily, tossing his head back and chuckling in a way that’s sort of infectious.

She remembers the way Dex used to tell stories. The way he would paint a picture of the situation, make you feel like you were actually there, would slip in anecdotes and references to books and movies they’d watched like it was second nature. She always thought he had a way with words, which was why it was so hard seeing him struggle after the surgery. The way particular phrases would slip through his fingers, and she could physically see how much it frustrated him when a thought would just disappear and he would be left trying to put together the remaining pieces.

But even when words would completely slip his mind April knew what he wanted to say. When they were together it always felt like they were connected in some way that was beyond verbal communication. She remembers talking about everything with Dex. Her greatest fears and dreams; their own firsts and lasts. They’d fall asleep together on top of the covers after whispering late into the night, with nothing but a sliver of moonlight illuminating the room. It would always end with them lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling, when the words had run out and nothing but their breaths in perfect synchronicity. But she didn’t need to see or hear Dex to know he was still there.

April can’t help but smile.

And then she feels Cameron’s arm brush against her side.

“So, I don’t know about you but I’m sick of university ref food.” They are about halfway across the quad when Cameron stops walking. April turns to face him. “Before I became a workaholic doctor who only lived on two minute noodles and caffeine, I did know my way around a kitchen.”

“You cook?”

“Yes,” Cameron says, “And I would love to make you dinner.”

The sun is beginning to go down, settling low on the horizon. April looks at her shoes. When she looks up again, Cameron is still standing there, patiently waiting, a hopeful smile on his lips.

April is about to reply, takes a breath to accept the offer when she hears someone calling from behind. She looks over her shoulder and into the sun. It’s bright and she has to shield her eyes with her hands, squint past her fingers towards the figure jogging towards them.

“April!” they call, and even at that distance April would recognize that voice anywhere. Her heart leaps into her throat.

>><<

They circle the university campus for a few minutes, Casey taking directions from Dex who is peering out the passenger window, until he sees the pair strolling across the quad. With the sun laying low they are nothing more than a couple of silhouettes, but Dex knows he’s found them.

Casey stops the car, and as Dex steps out onto the bitumen he sees them stop walking, face each other. Cameron is taller than Dex expects, and he reaches out a hand, brushing April’s side.

Casey comes around to the passenger’s side of the car, leaning on the vehicle. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Cosy,” Casey says, observing.

For a moment Dex doesn’t move. He watches from a distance, sees the care at which Cameron approaches April, the small distance he keeps between them. But he leans forward, touches her side, his hands mirroring hers, swaying slightly at his side. He wants to take her hand, close the gap, but doesn’t. Not yet.

They haven’t seen them yet. April completely caught up whatever it is that Cameron says. Dex could get back in Casey’s car and go home and she wouldn’t know he was ever there. He could let her get closer to Dr Cameron, slowly replacing the memories she once had with Dex with new ones. It would be less complicated, involve less hurt, less work. And maybe that’s what April wants.

But Dex is still thinking about what Casey said in his bedroom that afternoon. About going down with a fight and Dex pushes off the car and starts jogging across the quad towards April.

When he’s about the third of the way there when he calls out. He calls April’s name and she turns towards his voice. Her face is shadowed by her hand and Dex wishes he could see her face – just to know whether she’s happy, sad, confused to see him. That way maybe he could prepare some sort of response.

But it’s hard to think of words when Dex’s heart is thumping hard, his breath coming short and wheezing as he runs towards her. April takes a couple of steps towards him but ultimately lets Dex make the trek to the middle of the quad.

“Dex?” she gasps as Dex tugs off his beanie and rubs a hand over his head. He’s hot and sweaty, whole face feels flushed.

Dex is gulping down air, bent over at his waist, body shaking. He coughs, his whole chest rattling and out of the corner of his eye he sees April reach out a hand, goes to rub his back. But a quick look over her shoulder and she thinks better of it, putting her hand back at her side.

“Dex? Are you okay?” April asks again.

“Does he need to sit down?” Cameron interjects and Dex does his best to take a few deeper breaths. Steadying himself, Dex makes himself upright, standing up straight and seeing April properly for the first time.

“April,” he breathes, the air rushing out of him.

“Dex,” April says, more seriously this time, controlled. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m Cameron Adam,” Cameron says, holding out a hand in front of Dex, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. I’m a doctor and April’s lecturer.”

Dex looks down at Cameron’s hand. It’s big, warm against Dex’s cold fingers as he shakes it.

“Dex,” he replies, “I have cancer.”

“Dex!” April admonishes him.

“What?” Dex asks, looking at April, her expression one of disbelief. Dex just shrugs, accepting, “I do.”

“We were actually just heading off, so I’m sorry you came all this way …” Cameron says, gesturing between himself and April.

“April, I need to talk to you.” Dex’s tone is urgent, serious and he doesn’t like the look of pure worry that passes over April’s face, but he knows he only gets one shot at this. He flicks a glance towards Cameron then adds, “It’s important.”

April looks over at the doctor, “Can you give us a moment?”

Cameron looks torn. He watches Dex for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with leaving April with him. He doesn’t want to appear like he’s easily intimidated – by a kid with cancer no less – but he also wants to do the right thing by April. He clenches his hand into a fist at his side before letting it go.

He nods, places a hand on April’s arm, saying, “I’ll meet you at the car.” Cameron then takes a step back, surveys Dex for a moment before his professionalism takes over. He’s pleasant, says, “It was nice to meet you, Dex. Good luck with everything.”

Dex offers a wave in return, and as Cameron starts to walk away he adds, “You too, Callan.” He’s too far away to walk back and correct Dex – even though Dex knows full well what his name actually is – so he just looks back over his shoulder, giving April what looks like a tired smile.

Dex is smiling to himself as April turns to face him, her attention drawn away from Cameron.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she says with a small shake of her head. “He was being nice.”

“He wanted to punch me in the face,” Dex says. The wind picks up, the sun going down at a rapid pace and Dex feels his body shiver. He braces himself against the breeze.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit down? You look a little pale,” April says, and Dex shakes his head.

He fiddles with the beanie in his hands. “No, no – that’s not – not why I came here.”

“Why did you come?”

And this is it.

Dex just hopes the words don’t leave him.

“I know I’ve been … not the easiest person to be around –”

“You don’t need to apologise –“

Please, just let me finish,” Dex says, and April blinks back at him. “If I don’t get all this out I never will.” Dex smiles, tries to relax. April’s expression softens.

“I’ve been in all up in my head – which has sort of become my enemy – you know when you just start to over think things and wonder if there’s any point to anything -?” Dex shakes his head, “No, I’m getting sidetracked. My brain was this asset, you know? It was part of who I was, and then suddenly it was a battleground and I felt like I was, um, always losing.”

April doesn’t say anything. Her expression is unreadable, and Dex takes a breath, a moment’s pause to rearrange the thoughts in his mind.

“I was so scared of being left behind. Of everyone moving on and just … forgetting, so I figured it was my job to fight this stupid thing alone. Reduce the damage, or something.” He shrugs, huffs a small self-deprecating laugh. Then turns serious, stops fidgeting with his beanie and meets April’s eye. “And I know we agreed to be apart, to try being just – each other – without being us. I know that. But I don’t want to be fighting this alone. I can’t do this alone. And you are the only person I need – When we’re together I don’t feel like I’ll ever be left behind, and I just. I just really wanted you to know that.“ Dex finishes.

It’s not the grand romantic speech he had planned – he didn’t really have anything planned – but it’s the truth.

April is silent. She bows her head, says barely above a whisper, “Dex.”

The air is cold, his nose beginning to run and Dex turns away, tries to subtly wipe it on his sleeve. He sniffles, turns back to April, who quickly opens her bag and pulls out a tissue, handing it to him.

“Thanks,” Dex replies, blows his nose on the tissue before shoving it into his pocket.

Another moment passes and then April tilts her head, looks at Dex with an expression that Dex can only think of as fond.

“You know I never want to leave you behind, right?” April tells him. She then takes a small step forward, closing the gap between them. “Or be left behind.”

Dex shakes his head, then nods, because yes he understands but no he doesn’t want April to ever feel like he’s abandoning her. She smiles, gives a soft laugh, and then leans forward until their foreheads are touching.

It’s a simple gesture, but so so intimate.

Resting there, Dex finally feels himself relax. The muscles in his neck loosen, eyelids fluttering closed as something slips back into place. He no longer feels adrift, floating away from the earth, gasping for air on his own. He feels rooted, safe, not alone.

He hears April’s breath catch and Dex thinks: I’ve always loved you.

Then, its April that leans forward and closes the gap. Dex feels her lips brush his, carefully at first, before she applies pressure. She kisses him gently, like he might break – the moment so precious he could shatter – but Dex knows better. They are strong, he is stronger than she realizes.

As he kisses her back it occurs to Dex that his lips are chapped, he hasn’t changed his shirt, his nose is freezing cold. He has to pull away, drags out the tissue again and wipes the tip of his nose.

The sun is almost set and Dex has to tug his beanie back on his head, down over his ears to stop the wind whistling past. He coughs into his hand and then looks across at April.

“Not very sexy,” Dex says, and April reaches out and bats at his arm playfully.

“Stop insulting my boyfriend,” she replies.

“What about Patch Adams?” Dex asks, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

April sighs, glances across the quad in the direction of the car park. “I should probably talk to him.“

They walk slowly across the lawn, their fingers brushing, touching between them. His hands are cold, April’s warm, and he feels a tingle every time they touch; a reminder that she’s still there. That she’s always going to be there.

The car park is still relatively full, students having late study sessions, and Dex sees Casey step out of his car.

“What’s Casey doing here?” April asks.

“He was my ride,” Dex explains and he waves at the other boy as he comes around the front of the vehicle.

Casey puts both fingers in his mouth and wolf-whistles at them, a cheesy grin on his face. Dex tugs his beanie lower on his head, feels the slight tinge of heat in his cheeks.

“Do you see him?” Dex asks, not really feeling like saying Cameron’s name. It’s petty he knows, but the sooner he and April can get home and snuggle together on the couch. They have a lot of Doctor Who to catch up on.

April looks around the car park, “I can’t see him,” she muses.

“You looking for that other guy that was with you?” Casey asks, “Tall, handsome, smug expression?”

“He was not smug,” April protests while Dex nods.

“He left,” Casey says with a shrug. “Got in his fancy black car and drove off.”

“He left?” April asks and Dex tries not to be too happy. “Why?”

“I think seeing you two sucking face in the middle of the oval was a bit of a slap to the face,” Casey explains.

Dex feels his throat tickle again, tries to mask his cough, but ends up semi-cough-spluttering into his sleeve.

“Sorry,” Dex apologises, “Kind of spoiling the moment. Can we go home?”

Casey heads around the driver’s side and Dex and April both go for the back seat. Sitting side-by-side Dex does the totally high-school thing of placing his hand in between them on the empty middle seat, just letting her know she can hold it if she wants. April doesn’t hesitate. She slips her hand in his, intertwining their fingers.

“If you two could hold your make-up sex until you get home, my stomach and leather interiors would appreciate it,” Casey calls from the front, eyes flicking up and watching them for a second in the mirror.

Dex wants to be embarrassed by that assumption but he’s far too content to care. All he can do is try to hide his yawn, has to blink slowly to keep his eyes open. It’s been a big afternoon.

“It’s okay,” April tells him, seeing him struggle to remain awake. Her thumb rubs soothing circles into the back of Dex’s hand.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” Dex says.

This car ride home feels like a new start, but also strangely, picking up where they left off. For it was never about crossing things off a list, being terrified of leaving things unfinished, or a fear of failing when he didn’t have time to try again. It was about sticking to his guns and figuring out what being Dex meant. And then realising when you are stronger with someone else, when its okay to ask for help and not have to battle through it on your own.

“You won’t,” April assures him, “I’m never leaving you behind.”

END.

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