The Last 30 Days [Inactive]

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked, eyeing the broccoli. It didn't look the nicest so he moved on to the next vegetable, putting a bag of potatoes in the cart.
 
"I'm jealous you thought of it first." She mumbled again, more quietly than the first time. Her hands were still behind her back as she silently trailed behind Blake.


There were many different kinds of vegetables, so she distracted herself by mouthing the names as she passed.
 
Blake frowned, but still didn't look up from the vegetables. Every once in awhile he'd stop walking, examine the veggies and pick the most decent one.


"Well, Isabelle, if anyone asks we can say that you came up with the idea. How does that sound?"
 
"Hey, no way! It was your idea." She bumped her hip lightly against him. Cheered up a bit, she reminded him, "Do you need any lettuce, or spinach, dressing? I remember you said you liked Caesar salad. You could eat it 'forever' yeah?"
 
Blake also felt better now that she seemed happier but just to make sure that the good mood would stay he wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss on the top of her head.


"Yeah, lettuce is a good idea. I have dressing at home." They got the lettuce and started down the aisles.
 
Isabelle blushed more than usual and began to briskly walk ahead down the next aisle, embarrassed. Public displays of affection easily riled her up. Her heartbeat was going a million miles a minute.


"Do you need any bread? I can go grab some for you." She lifted a pale hand and motioned to the bakery near a few aisles down.
 
Honestly, Blake didn't really like how Isabelle was easily embarrassed, it made his attempts at affection more difficult to succeed. But he'd live with it. That or Isabelle would need to get used to it.


"Yeah, that sounds cool. I'll be here... looking at pasta and crackers." Blake did just that. He got some crackers and spaghetti and put them in the cart.
 
Isabelle grabbed a decent looking loaf of bread and headed back to where Blake was strolling down an aisle. She took a small step forward, hesitating, before coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around him. She pressed her head against his back and whispered to him, so as not to be overheard by anyone else in another aisle.


"I'm really bad at this kind of stuff sometimes." She let go and gently placed the bread in the cart. Reaching out again with her pale hand, she offered it up to Blake to take hold of. "I'm working on it."
 
Blake took her hand like she was expecting and he nodded while he turned around, smiling softly down at her. "Don't worry, Isabelle. If you're ever uncomfortable with something just tell me and I'll stop."
 
"I'm not uncomfortable, just-" She shrugged, "Very easily flustered. I don't want people to see something that should be so private. A relationship is with two people, not the whole world."


It was a profound thing to say out loud, and Isabelle almost thought it was embarrassing. However, she believed it, so she wouldn't shrink back from what she'd said. Some affection in public was fine, but, any more than a stroke of her hand or a kiss on the cheek felt embarrassing. She didn't want other people to see it, not because she was embarrassed, but because she wanted to keep the moment between just the two of them.


"That's what I think, anyways, it's just a silly little thing."
 
Blake nodded understandingly. "Yeah, okay, I understand what you mean. Come on, let's just finish the shopping." Blake pulled her along by her hand, going quickly down the aisles and only getting what he needed.


He didn't actually understand what she meant, in his mind he didn't think that he had done anything wrong. A hug and a kiss on the head, he knew that Isabelle was inexperienced, but now he was starting to think she was a prude. Blake would still stay with her though, so far his annoyance with her was less powerful than his love.
 
I guess I just don't want him to get too attached.





Isabelle stood silently behind Blake as he paid for his groceries, and grasped his hand as they exited the store. So long as Blake couldn't see her face, she frowned slightly, wondering how long he would really stick with a doomed to be dead girl.
 
Luckily the groceries weren't too heavy, Blake had given the lightest one to Isabelle to carry. Now they were walking to his apartment and the silence was making Blake worried.


"You're being awfully quiet," he said, surprisingly sounding normal. "Is there anything interesting you want to talk about?"
 
Isabelle shook her head, then realized the action only proved what he said. "No. Sorry, my life is a bit dull at the moment." She laughed before grinning up, it sounded a bit forced. Nothing happy at least.





They walked in silence for a moment, Isabelle mostly staring at her own feet. She nearly tripped over an uneven crack, stumbling before regaining her balance.


"Oh, right, what about you? Anything interesting happen today at the college?" Isabelle returned the question, hoping Blake might fill the silence. Characteristically speaking, it was unlikely.
 
Blake also shook his head, then said, "Not really. There was a guest speaker today in the advanced calculus course which I found interesting."


After a few more minutes of walking they reached his apartment and brought up the groceries. Blake wondered whether or not Isabelle would stay, to him it didn't really matter. It would be great if she stayed, but conversation was so awkward, her company wasn't really desirable.
 
"I probably should go now." Isabelle spoke softly, her thoughts elsewhere, thinking more about her future. "Thank you for taking me with you, it was fun."


She helped to put away the food in it's appropriate spot. Each item she picked up brought more notice to how pale her skin was in comparison, sickly and ghost white. She felt fine. Her body worked, everything was fine, it was only her head.
 
"I feel like we're still strangers," he said. It didn't really make sense since they were still kind of like strangers, but they weren't really strangers... It was confusing. "There's something wrong, whether it's me or you, or both of us. Something is wrong today."
 
"We are strangers, Blake." Isabelle couldn't look him in the eye. She wouldn't.


Five days they had known each other. Between Isabelle's constant rambling and worry over the possibility of death, and Blake's social skills, they really hadn't had enough time to know each other. There was a spark, sure, but neither had any confirmation it would lead to anything more than that.


"Maybe it's better this way."


You don't mean that.





"I should go. I'm sorry." She turned to leave.
 
Blake wanted to move, wanted to stop her. He really did, but he stayed put in the kitchen while she walked to the foyer. He could still see her there because of the peek-a-boo hole.


"Don't apologize," he said, hating how she always apologized for things she didn't need to be sorry for. "I'll see you later, maybe." Blake shrugged a shoulder before continuing, "Depends on if you want to see me again or not."
 
"Of course I do, you..you idiot!" She yelled at him, angry he couldn't understand. As she left she slammed the door, fuming and crying, she marched all the way home before sitting against the door of her own room.


That was stupid. She thought.


There were things she wanted, obviously. Love being one of her desires, of course she wanted to see Blake again. But the fact of the matter was, she was going to die, and what good was that? What good was going into love knowing there is no happy way out. It was meaningless really. Yet, she would fight for it if she could. It was all so irritating. She didn't know what to do, what to say.
 
"She called me an idiot," he said in disbelief. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or be insulted so he decided not to feel either. He also wasn't sure what to do now. It felt weird being on his own. Still, he went to the living room and plopped down on the couch, suddenly really tired.
 
Tuesday, April 21st:


Isabelle couldn't sleep. She was so frustrated and tired of waiting for her surgery to come, so she stayed up, wandering meaninglessly around her own house as her aunt slept. There were pictures of her family, cousins, and they all looked happy.


At some point, it must have been morning, because Isabelle didn't need a flashlight to read the countless cards she had received from past classmates. Bright colored construction paper with gaudy bubble print, or messages with things like 'Get well' or 'Be strong' and many saying they will keep her in their prayers.


No one was left, though. Isabelle's mother had left her, her father wouldn't talk to her. There was no one, her friends had moved on since Isabelle had started to frequent staying home. Now she was the one being evasive, and calling names. Again, she thought, that was really, really stupid.
 
Blake had been awake since 3 AM. The neighbours were yelling loudly and even though yesterday hadn't even come close to what was going on next door, it reminded him of Isabelle's words before she stormed out of the house.


Now he was staring at a calendar with days crossed out. The Xs started at 16 and he just finished crossing out the 21st. There were 26 days left, counting today. 26 seemed like such an odd number, and while Blake wanted to call Isabelle, he felt like 25 was a nicer number and he should call her tomorrow. Today would be a good day to wrap his head around what he was doing.


So he went to the living room and sat down, ready to speak with the angel and the devil on his shoulders. The angel told him to call Isabelle, to make amends and love her until her very last day. The devil told him not to, it was just a waste of time, she was distracting him from school, she was just going to die anyways.
 
As soon as she could, Isabelle left to walk to the coffee shop. She went inside and ordered a dark coffee, not bothering to put anything else into the drink. There was an empty table in the back, and this is where she sat.


Isabelle decides to try to call her father, something she hadn't done for a while. It rang a few times, no one picked up, voicemail. She set the phone on the table in front of her.


An hour passed before she stood up to leave. The coffee woke her up, but did nothing to sooth the growing pain in her head from skipping a good nights rest.
 
He decided to text Isabelle, although he still wasn't sure whether it was the wisest idea.


Hi, he texted, and even with that one word he was sure she would be able to see the tentativeness.
 
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