My Skylar by Penelope Ward Page B

their heads for movie roles. The first one was of Natalie Portman,
    who happened to be his celebrity crush. So, naturally, I hated her. The next was of Demi Moore.
    Then, there was Megan Fox.
    I wasn’t exactly sure of his point. “Wow, this is—”
    “You see them?”
    “Yeah…”
    “What do you see when you look at them?”
    “Actually, they don’t look too bad because they’re all beautiful anyway.”
    “You think they’re beautiful?”
    “Yeah, I do.”
    “You’re ten times more beautiful, Skylar.”
    I could never get enough of hearing him call me that. “Mitch…”
    “It might take some getting used to, not having your hair, but in the end, you’re still gorgeous,
    and you know what I’m gonna think of when I see your bald head?”
    You’re never seeing my bald head, buddy.
    “What?”
    “The fact that the chemo is doing its job, kicking the asses of those cancer cells. I wouldn’t
    have it any other way.”
    I wasn’t sure if he had practiced this spiel to make me feel better or if he truly meant it. Either way, he had succeeded in brightening my mood.
    My lips curved upwards into a smile. “What would I do without you?”
    “You’re never gonna find out.”
    I heard barking. “Oh no. That’s not…”
    “Yup. The barking is back. He hates my guts. He thinks I sent you away.”
    “Let me talk to him.”
    “Hang on.” I heard the cage open, and the barking got louder then Mitch said, “Okay, I’m
    putting the phone up to his ear.”
    “Seamus? It’s me.”
    The barking stopped.
    I continued talking. “I really miss you. Please be a good boy. Okay? No more barking. Be good
    for Mitch, and I’ll come home soon. I love you.”
    Dead silence.
    Mitch returned to the phone. “Friggin’ unbelievable.”
    I couldn’t help but laugh. “Poor baby.”
    “Poor baby? Poor me , stuck with a lovesick bird. Do you know he shit on me the other day?”
    I laughed harder. It felt good.
    “You think that’s funny, huh?”
    “Yes. I do.”
    “Well, if it’s making you laugh, it’s worth it. That’s gonna be my goal: to make you laugh at
    least once a day.”
    Laughter got the best of me at least a dozen more times that night. Mitch stayed on the phone
    with me for hours until I fell asleep. I didn’t even remember saying goodbye.
    The following evening, not only would I look like I had cancer, I’d feel like it for the first time, too.

    ***
When it rains, it pours. The next few days were brutal. I had to cancel our trip to the wig shop
    because I couldn’t stand up without feeling like I was going to throw up. The chemo nausea I kept
    hearing about had finally caught up with me. From the beginning, I had been taking Zofran, an
    anti-nausea med., but it didn’t seem to be working for me anymore.
    The skin in my mouth also started getting really sore, and I developed mouth ulcers, which
    went along just great with the vomiting, by the way.
    Seeing as though I couldn’t even get out of bed, it was hard for me to answer texts and talk on
    the phone. Even sitting up to watch television felt impossible.
    Mitch called the house phone when I didn’t answer my cell, and my father had to tell him
    what was going on.
    I heard my father’s voice downstairs. “Skylar has terrible nausea, Mitch. She’s not able to come
    to the phone. I’ll tell her you called.”
    He’d be worried, and I hated not being able to explain it myself, but my inability to gather
    enough energy even to talk to him for a second was a testament to how bad I felt.
    After my father hung up the phone, he peeked in on me. “That was Mitch, honey.”
    I simply nodded and rolled over onto my side.
    “You want some ginger ale?” he asked.
    “No.”
    “Mom is coming a day early.”
    I shook my head in acknowledgement.
    My mother normally arrived every Friday night. My Dad and Lizete were cordial to her, and
    even though Mom was uncomfortable, she tried not to let it show. She’d spend most of her visits
    in my room, or