My Skylar by Penelope Ward Page A

drugs,
    they’d flush my port, and I was good to go home where I’d try to pretend I didn’t have cancer until the next treatment. Forgetting was easier in the beginning.
    I rubbed my fingers along the top of my prickly head now, wondering how I was going to face
    Mitch looking like this. He was scheduled to visit over Christmas, which was coming up in less
    than a week. I hadn’t even picked out a wig yet. I wasn’t expecting to lose my hair so fast since I’d managed to make it through the entire first cycle with no hair loss. To have it come out in chunks
    all of a sudden was devastating because I was starting to hope that maybe I’d get lucky. Now,
    Lizete and I had plans to visit a wig shop in Bensonhurst tomorrow.
    She had left me an assortment of her hats to choose from on my bed. I picked a gray, knit
    beret, feeling immediate relief when I looked into the mirror after putting it on.
    My phone chimed. I grabbed it from my pocket and noticed a text from Mitch.
    Just thinking of you. I can’t wait to see you this weekend. How are you doing?
    I wanted to tell him that I was miserable and scared about letting him see me without hair,
    but I didn’t see the point in worrying him when he was so far away.
    Skylar: Doing okay. How are you?
    Mitch: I miss you. So does Seamus. He hates me because he thinks I’m keeping
    you away.
    Skylar: I miss you too.
    Typing those words had made me cry again. I lay on the bed staring up at the textured paint
    on the ceiling, licking my tears as they fell. I missed him. I missed his smell. I missed home. I
    missed my life before cancer.
    I hugged my stuffed Tigger tightly. With pink walls and white furniture, my room at my
    father’s house was girly and filled with my old stuffed animals. When my parents first got
    divorced, I used to take a lot of my toys with me to feel more at home, and most of them were still here.
    I could smell Adobo seasoning. Lizete was cooking something.
    She called from downstairs. “Skylar?” I cringed at how the ‘r’ in my name always rolled off her
    tongue. “Do you need anything? Lunch is almost ready.”
    My Dad had a meeting and wouldn’t be home until tonight. I wished I were completely alone
    so that I didn’t have to worry about her catching me crying.
    I wiped my eyes and yelled, “Everything’s fine. I’m gonna stay up here for a while and rest.”
    It was getting dark out. I shut off the light to take a nap, and it was nearly pitch black in my
    room.
    When my phone rang, I almost didn’t pick up. After a few rings, I reached over and saw that it
    was Mitch.
    “Hi, Mitch.”
    “Hey, you.”
    A painful longing grew in my chest upon hearing his smooth, deep voice.
    I cleared my throat. “What’s going on?”
    “This is gonna sound strange. I know you said you were doing okay, but I’ve just had this
    feeling all day that you weren’t, and to be honest, I’m not doing so hot myself. I needed to hear
    your voice.”
    How did he know? I closed my eyes and knew that if I opened my mouth, he’d hear that I was
    starting to cry.
    I needed to hear your voice, too.
    “Skylar? Are you there?”
    My voice was shaky. “Yes. I’m here.”
    “Are you crying?”
    I sniffled. “Yes.”
    His tone was soothing, almost a whisper. “Talk to me. What’s making you sad?”
    I hesitated, but he’d find out sooner or later. “I had to shave my head today.”
    He didn’t say anything right away, just breathed into the phone. “I knew something happened.
    I just knew it.” He sighed, and his voice lowered. “I’m so sorry.”
    “I know it was inevitable. It was just a shock to actually see it all gone.”
    “I can only imagine.” He paused. “Listen, have you checked your email? It’s really ironic, but I
    sent you something this morning. Are you in front of a computer?”
    “I can be.”
    “I’ll wait.”
    I reached for my laptop. When I logged in, I saw that Mitch had sent me a bunch of images of
    famous people who had shaved