her house before I stopped her and held her close to me. I kissed her, and when we pulled
apart, she looked down at the ground.
I put my finger beneath her chin, lifting her head up and making her look at me
again. “You’re a wonderful person, Jamie. You’re beautiful, you’re kind, you’re gentle . . .
you’re everything that I’d like to be. If people don’t like you, or they think you’re strange,
then that’s their problem.”
In the grayish glow of a cold winter day, I could see her lower lip begin to tremble.
Mine was doing the same thing, and I suddenly realized that my heart was speeding up as
well. I looked in her eyes, smiling with all the feeling I could muster, knowing that I
couldn’t keep the words inside any longer.
“I love you, Jamie,” I said to her. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
It was the first time I’d ever said the words to another person besides a member of
my immediate family. When I’d imagined saying it to someone else, I’d somehow thought
it would be hard, but it wasn’t. I’d never been more sure of anything.
As soon as I said the words, though, Jamie bowed her head and started to cry, leaning
her body into mine. I wrapped my arms around her, wondering what was wrong. She was
thin, and I realized for the first time that my arms went all the way around her. She’d lost
weight, even in the last week and a half, and I remembered that she’d barely touched her
food earlier. She kept crying into my chest for what seemed like a long time. I wasn’t sure
what to think, or even if she felt the same way I did. Even so, I didn’t regret the words.
The truth is always the truth, and I’d just promised her that I would never lie again.
“Please don’t say that,” she said to me. “Please …”
“But I do,” I said, thinking she didn’t believe me.
She began to cry even harder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to me through her ragged
sobs. “I’m so, so sorry… .”
My throat suddenly went dry.
“Why’re you sorry?” I asked, suddenly desperate to understand what was bothering
her. “Is it because of my friends and what they’ll say? I don’t care anymore—I really
don’t.” I was reaching for anything, confused and, yes—scared.
It took another long moment for her to stop crying, and in time she looked up at me.
She kissed me gently, almost like the breath of a passerby on a city street, then ran her
finger over my cheek.
“You can’t be in love with me, Landon,” she said through red and swollen eyes. “We
can be friends, we can see each other … but you can’t love me.”
“Why not?” I shouted hoarsely, not understanding any of this.
“Because,” she finally said softly, “I’m very sick, Landon.”
The concept was so absolutely foreign that I couldn’t comprehend what she was
trying to say.