“I should let him,” I call after her as she heads into Monsterwiches.
I take a bite of my sandwich while Perry looks at me with pleading eyes. I steal a piece of overhanging turkey from Harlow’s sandwich and give it to him. What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.
After another bite, I pull my binders from my purse. In the beginning it was weird having to take medicine every time I ate, but now it’s second nature.
“Heeeeey,” Meredith calls, running down the street with shopping bags flopping in her hands. She honestly looks like she’s trying to use them to take flight.
She reaches me and collapses into the chair beside me. Her bags drop to the ground and she lets out a breath that stirs her vibrant red bangs. “Shopping with my mom should be an Olympic sport. I was in school until noon, but from then until now we’ve managed to hit up ten different stores, and you know how long my mom takes in each of them. The good news is, I have five new pairs of shoes and an entirely new wardrobe. I swear my mom sits around thinks to herself what can I spend money on today that I don’t need? Like, seriously. She’s got a problem. Hey, can I have some of that?” She ends her breathless tirade to point to my water. I hand it over and she uncaps it, drinking it down like she hasn’t had any water all day.
Harlow comes out with Mere’s sandwich and a new water. She sees Meredith with my water and hands me the new one without question.
“Hungry?” she asks Meredith.
“Not really, but I’ll take it anyway.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and Harlow places the wrapped sandwich on the table, the two of us exchanging a look.
Meredith is super tall and super thin to boot but the girl eats like a college football player preparing to hibernate for the winter. She hates her knobby knees and long legs, but they’re her so I think they’re perfect.
I take a bite of my sandwich and notice Meredith has already devoured almost half of hers. I’m not even shocked anymore. I’ve learned over the many years of knowing her that she can eat more in one sitting than an entire football team combined.
“Are you guys going home after this?” she asks.
I shake my head. “This one wants ice cream.” I point at Harlow, who shrugs unapologetically.
“What can I say? Ice cream is my friend—it’s always there for me.”
“I wish I could go.” Meredith frowns. “But I have to get back to my mom. I told her I was going to the bathroom.”
I snort. “You told her you were going to the bathroom but you came here instead?”
“Well, when I texted you I was going to see if we could hang out tonight but since you were close I was like, why don’t I head over there, so that’s what I did. Don’t worry, my mom won’t notice I’m still gone for another thirty minutes.”
Harlow giggles. “I love your mom.”
“She’s one of a kind,” Meredith agrees. “You guys wanna go to the beach this weekend?” she asks.
“We go to the beach every weekend,” I remind her with a laugh.
“Well, I can’t help it. The beach has hot guys, and that’s where I gravitate. Hot guys feed my soul. I can look but I can’t touch—because you know my dad would chop my hands off and feed them to the sharks. He acts like I’m still four years old.”
I snort. “Mere, you do act like a four-year-old most of the time, I can’t blame him.”
She sighs. “You right,” she exaggerates, stuffing the last of her sandwich into her mouth. “See you this weekend.” She wipes her mouth on a napkin, grabs up her bags, and is gone with a swish of her red hair.
“Sometimes I think Meredith is a species of her own,” Harlow chortles. “I mean, seriously, I don’t know anyone else like her.”
“Me either … you know, considering she’s the only friend I have left.”
It doesn’t bother me much anymore, how my friends shied away from me after my diagnosis, but there are moments where it threatens to overwhelm me.
The reality of it all, that is.
“Fuck them,” Harlow spits.
“Harlow,” I scold. “Don’t talk like that, you’re fifteen.”
She tilts her head. “Exactly, I’m fifteen. I’ve heard worse than the word fuck. And seriously fuck them. They showed their true colors. If someone can’t ackn
owledge your illness, or be there for you, or for Christ’s sake even say hi, then they don’t deserve to stay in your life. They don’t.”