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Damian shoved a spoonful of food in his mouth. “So, where do you go to school?”
    “Roosevelt.” I hesitated. “You?”
    “I’m between schools right now. I’ll start at Valley in January.”
    I wanted to ask why he’d been expelled. Instead I blurted, “Why did you steal a car?”
    Damian’s eyebrows shot up faster than a rocket. “My favorite nurse told you, huh?”
    “Sort of.”
    “Bitch,” he muttered to himself. Then he grinned. “To see if I could.”
    Damian’s phone rang again. This time he jerked it out, cursed, and switched it off. “I’d better go before the asshole pages me over the intercom.”
    “Yeah. That’d be embarrassing.”
    “Thanks for eating with me tonight,” he said. “I’ll see you Thursday.”
    He pivoted and walked away before I had a chance to say anything. I watched him until his sky blue scrubs were just a small speck down the corridor.
    I shoved my tray aside and laid my head on my arms, taking a deep breath. I wished that my life recorded itself like a DVR. The rewind button looked real good right now.
    If only I had chucked the hair.
    If only I hadn’t run my fingers through it in the first place.
    If only I could stop Leslie’s words from repeating in my mind.
    If only I hadn’t mentioned golf.
    The list went on and on. The rewind button would have been busy.
    I sighed and dug through my bag, finding my diary.
     
    November 15
    Dear Diary,
    Worst non-date ever!
    What did I get myself into? I have no idea what I’m thinking! Sure, Damian pulled me in with his amazing eyes, and well, let’s face it—he’s gorgeous! But he’s carrying around more Dixie cups than the medication cart.
    Oh, and he’s so not my type. Agh ! Well, I guess I don’t have a type. All I know is that I never dreamed I’d have a crush on a guy who smokes, apparently hates his father, has been arrested, and Lord knows what else. I think I’ve lost my mind. It’s the only explanation.
    Unless…hmm. I never thought of that. Do I see him as my charity case? Someone I can fix? I don’t know. At the same time, he held the garbage can while I hurled in it, for crying out loud. What teenage guy does that? I must be crazy.
    I do like the fact that he’s not afraid to challenge me. He doesn’t treat me like I’m going to break. Or like I have cancer. I feel almost normal around him.
    He knows my hair is falling out, and he didn’t make a big deal of it. He kno ws who I am—the cancer patient—and still talks to me. I care about what he thinks and how he sees me. What I might mean to him. I wonder what he’s doing now. If he’s thinking about me. If he worries about me.
    This makes no sense. I’ve never been more confused in my life!
     
    ~* ~
     
    Going bald in the winter was nicer than in the summer. I could usually find cute hats that went well with my outfits, and I was thankful that the administration at school made an exception for me to wear them to class. It cut down on the stares and sorry looks I got from my classmates. Generally, I took it off for treatments, since I didn’t feel awkward on the cancer ward. In fact, it might be about the only place I felt somewhat normal.
    My hair had thinned so much I was beginning to look like Gollum. I kept my black hat on at the hospital because Damian said he’d be there. Leslie didn’t say much as she hooked the IV into the tube sticking out from my chest. I tapped my fingers on my diary and watched the clock. At four-thirty it crossed my mind that maybe he forgot or something.
    At four thirty-five, I had given up on him, and at four thirty-eight, Damian twisted the knob and let himself in.
    “Nice hat. I like the little, uh, flower thing.” He pointed at my head.
    I laughed at his odd hand gestures. Seeing him standing in the doorway lifted my spirits.
    “Can you leave this room?” he asked. I peered around him and noticed the black bag he held behind his back.
    I looked at him sideways. “Yeah . But the pole has to come with