The Diary of A Wimpy Adult (In Her Twenties): Episode 1

Things goes south when Billie goes for her scan. Landon has to deal with the idea of losing the only person she's ever loved.

Billie gets her leg scanned and the doctor tells her that the bruising is getting worse. I drive her home. She tells me that she's taking a few days off work. We sit in the living room and watch documentaries about kids with bone cancer on her laptop. What? Does your family have a history of cancer or something? I ask her. No. I don't know. What does that even mean, right? Right. She falls asleep and I wonder how it is she can sleep when things are so stressful right now. Her leg rests in my lap. I get the urge to unstrap her cast and examine her leg. I've watched almost half a days' worth of bone cancer documentaries, and I know what the signs are. I don't touch her leg. I search Google for foods that prevent cancer. Berries, broccoli, tomatoes, walnuts, grapes, and other vegetables, fruits, and nuts. We don't have any fruits in the fridge. I dig in the freezer for a bag of mixed veg. The bag reads that you have to cook from frozen. It makes no sense to me, but I follow the instructions anyways. I stand by the stove and the broccoli, cauliflower, and chopped carrots float around in the greenish water. It looks gross. But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Right? I spoon the vegetables over bowls of leftover rice from the fridge. I wake Billie up and give her a bowl. The internet says it's good for preventing cancer, I tell her. She starts crying. And I think she's crying because, just like me, she's freaking out about getting cancer. We are turning twenty-one in a month. People who are this young aren't supposed to get genetic illnesses. We are supposed to eat badly and stay up all night. What did the doctors say? I ask her. I don't know. I think I have another checkup at the end of the week. Do you want me to go with you? I think so. I drive her to her next check-up. She tells me to in the car. I ask her if, she's sure. She says yes. I watch her go into the day hospital. There's nothing on my phone that distracts me enough from watching people enter and leave the hospital. I check my Goodreads. I'm told that I have to read one and a half books a week to keep up with my reading goal for the year. The book I'm currently reading is Yellowface by R. F. Kaung. It's brilliant but I'm a slow reader and everyone is spoiling the book for me on my Instagram. Only I can't stop reading the spoilers because I'm getting nowhere in the book. Billie returns to the car about an hour later. I've read twenty percent of Yellowface. I'm lying in the back of my car. She gets into the passenger seat. I sit up. She looks calm. I can't tell if it's the kind of calm that comes before the storm or if it's controlled excitement. Good news or bad news? The doctor says that the bruising is fine. It's just because of all of the swelling. I think she said it's because of the cast they put on. What does that mean? I ask her. It's not cancer, she says. It's not cancer. Do you want to get ice cream? she asks. Yeah, sure. We should get the ones with berries, I say. It prevents cancer. We probably should. Wait? Do you even get ice cream with berries in it? she asks. I don't think so. Do you want to buy some before we get the ice cream? Yeah, okay. We get blackberries and cherries from Checkers on our way to the ice cream place. Billie gets vanilla ice cream with blackcurrant sauce. I get chocolate ice cream. We sit in the car and scoop berries into our ice cream with the tiny spoons we got from the shop. Billie tells me that the ice cream tastes weird, and I agree. It kind of tastes like yogurt, she says. Right? I think we bought frozen yogurt. I think so, too. We end up eating the yogurt anyways. I drive us home. Billie goes to her room and takes a nap. I throw out the frozen yogurt cups and do the dishes from last night. I sit in the living room and finish the list of documentaries on Billie's laptop. It feels indulgent. The idea of forgetting about the people who are affected by this disease just because my best friend is cancer free. I don't know what to do with myself. I feel really bad. I feel relief. I search Google for the best way to deal with guilt and I am told to find ways to make amends and give back to others. I sign a petition on Instagram that has nothing to do with bone cancer. I sit by Billie's bed. Hey, I say to her. I think we should join a charity. What are you talking about? she asks me, turning her back to me. I don't know. I feel like we should be grateful for the hand that we were dealt and give back or something. You know? I tell her. You're not making any sense right now. Just let me sleep. She pulls me blankets over her head. Can I sleep in your bed? Sure. Don't hog the blankets. Okay. I lay in bed beside her and stare up at the ceiling. I don't know when I fall asleep. I wake up to an Email notification on my phone.