I gasped at its beauty. Rich, green-paneled walls brought a sense of peace to the room. It was large but not so much that I felt lost within it. There was a plush couch, a substantial TV-and-living space to one side, and a double bed at the other. The linens were floral in the most elegant way. On closer inspection, I realized that the bed was a clinical one. It had the call buttons and the controls to move it to sitting position, for the harder days, when staying bed was the only choice. There were large chairs to the side of the bed, clearly for visitors. IV stands were collected in the corner, and a medical cabinet disguised as a tall dresser was beside the bed. They had tried their absolute best to tone down why we were here and make it a place of rest and comfort.
I went through the closed door at the end of the room and was greeted with a bathroom. The walls were paneled and dusky pink, with a claw-foot bathtub and roomy cubicle shower, with subtle handrails and stools. There was an emergency pull and anything else I could need when I didn’t feel so strong, like a shower stool, a walker and long handled brushes to name a few.
When I came back into the main space, I noticed the wardrobe that rivaled the one to Narnia along the far wall. “It’s beautiful,” I said, feeling completely overwhelmed.
I could heal here, I thought.I could make it a home while I complete the treatment.
“You like it, honey?” my mama asked.
“I do,” I said, nodding. “I really do.”
“Some place, huh?” Daddy said and dropped a kiss on my head. “This’ll be a nice place to stay for a while,” he said just as a knock on the door sounded.
A young man carried in my luggage.
“Thank you, Bailey,” Neenee said as he placed them by the wardrobe.
Bailey smiled at us. “Nice to meet y’all,” he greeted, then left the room.
“June, will you be okay here to settle in while I steal away your parents for a while?” Neenee asked.
“Of course.” I smiled at them as they left, then held my notebook to my chest and turned a full 360, taking it all in. I waited for the fear, the nerves about what lay before me, but they didn’t come. A heady peace settled over me, and a flicker of excitement sprouted in my stomach too. Something about this place felt special somehow. Iknewdeep down that it was going to help me. Change my life. Something about my being here just felt right…destined.
I sat on the end of the bed, noting it’s softness, but then turned to the French doors that led outside. I looked beyond them, and a happy laugh spilled from my lips when I saw that same chestnut gelding from the paddock had moved to the part of the field my room faced.
A loud laugh came through the door from somewhere else in the house. Deciding to explore some, I was leaving my room when I heard the laugh again. I turned left and, with my notebook still clutched to my chest, tried to track down what sounded like a group of people talking. A smattering of nerves did rush through me this time. In all the time I had fought my leukemia, I hadn’t made many friends in the same position as me. We had to travel to big cities for my many treatments and allthe back-and-forth traveling hadn’t afforded me many people to take into my confidence.
The truth was, making friends hadnevercome easy to me. I had many acquaintances, but no one I would consider a best friend. I had always hoped those relationships would come later in high school, but then I was diagnosed with cancer at fifteen, and I watched those dreams slip away like sand in an hourglass.
I wasn’t lonely. I adored my parents, and I always had my characters in my books to keep me company. But I couldn’t deny that I longed to know what a true, close friendship felt like. Someone to completely confide in.
I made a right, then a left, marveling at the living spaces that were filled with board games and couches, a vast kitchen, and even a movie room. The glass doors to the outside showed a large swimming pool and a firepit ringed with Adirondack chairs. There were other outbuildings, no doubt filled with exciting things.
But as I turned right again, I realized that I was completely lost. The laughter from someone in the house had faded away, and I could no longer follow the intriguing sound to navigate through the many corridors.
I turned left, hoping it would help me circle back to something familiar, when I came to a sudden stop just before I barreled into someone turning my way. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said as I stepped back.
When I looked up, it was to see a tall boy in a blue shirt with the sleeves cut off, faded blue jeans, an orange baseball cap on his head—worn backwards—a football in his hands, and the most striking green eyes I’d ever seen. My breath lodged in my throat as I took in his whole face.
He was, simply put, the most handsome boy I’d ever laid eyes on.
“Wow,” he said, country-boy Texan accent thick as he stared down at me too. “You’re beautiful.”
I felt heat instantly flood my cheeks, and a small smirk pulled onto his mouth. An unfamiliar sensation trickled down my spine. A boy had never called me beautiful before, never even looked my way—especially not one that looked like him. Disbelief quickly followed. Because when I looked in the mirror these days, I felt far from beautiful.
But despite my fluster, I couldn’t pull myself away from this boy. He quickly wiped his hand on his shirt and held it out. “I’m Jesse.”
I forced one hand to release the notebook clutched to my chest, placing it in his, and said, “June.” There was shyness to my voice, but when I saw a tint of redness kiss his cheeks too, I knew I wasn’t the only one experiencing this strange feeling.
One look at the lack of hair under his baseball cap told me he was obviously one of the patients here too. I swallowed, heart flipping as Jesse smiled and dimples popped in his cheeks. He was tall and, despite his illness, broad in frame with slightly muscled arms. He held on to his football, and I held on to my notebook—and I realized we were still holding hands…
I quickly pulled mine back, and Jesse shook his head. “Sorry about that, June.” His voice was as graveled as the driveway outside.
“That’s okay,” I said. I tried to walk away, but my legs wouldn’t move. There was something about this boy that kept me close. And the same peace that had washed over me in my room flowed over me again—as did the same flicker of excitement and the feeling that I was meant to be here.
Destined.
CHAPTER 3
