My Life as an Album (Books 1-4)

by LJ Evans

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  When we went home for Christmas, it felt like a splash of reality. Like we’d been living in that Hollywood movie for so long that we didn’t know how to react to a normal life. The only thing that had ever burst into our bubble at school had been your diabetes. You’d found a local doctor, and you were there regularly, but it was still a struggle to keep you on an even keel. Of course, the way we’d been eating hadn’t probably helped. Not that you ate MoonPies for dinner or anything, but we weren’t exactly representing the food pyramid.

  The first confusion when we got home was where were we going to stay? I mean, we’d been living together for almost six months, and it didn’t make any sense for me to go to my room and you to go to yours. But it was also a little hard for our parents to watch us say goodnight to them and climb the stairs to your old bedroom hand in hand.

  I mean, they KNEW what was going on, but to SEE it going on was a little different. Eventually, everyone adjusted. What surprised the hell out of my mama more than that was me showing up to help in the kitchen. I’d never, ever helped in the kitchen. Unless it was by her demand to unload the dishwasher or clean up the PB&J mess I’d left on the counter.

  But six months of mac and cheese and hamburgers had made me realize that you couldn’t sustain your levels eating like that. So, mama became our teacher. I say our teacher because you were hell-bent on not being apart from me for any length of time, even if it was for a good cause. Even if we’d pretty much been side by side for six months. Regardless, it never got old to me, the fact that you didn’t want to leave my side. It felt fair. Like I’d been doing that for so long, and you had a lot of catching up to do. Anyway, Mama ended up teaching us both how to cook the best she could in a couple short weeks.

  It was hard to be in her kitchen and not ours though. You were always wrapping your arms around me and trying to take the knife so that you could chop with me still trapped in your arms. And I’d tease you the whole time. We both knew where we would have ended up if we weren’t in Mama’s kitchen. Probably on the floor, but all mama had to do was glare at you and you’d at least slow down.

  But she couldn’t stay mad at you because you were still smooth as a milkshake when it came to women. You’d say something nice, and she’d glow, and we’d be back to throwing vegetables at each other.

  Before we left to go back to school, Mama pulled me aside. She looked into my eyes and said, “How is everything, Camdyn?”

  “Good, Mama,” I said with a smile that was the size of Texas.

  “We worry you know. All of us.” And I knew that she meant more than just her and Daddy. She meant your parents too. And I knew somehow that she meant that they worried about more than the normal college work and even your diabetes.

  “Why?” I asked.

  She looked like she was trying to find words. Like she’d been thinking about it for a long time and still couldn’t figure it out. She shrugged. “We shouldn’t. You were always more his than ours.”

  She smiled at me, and I hugged her. But later…later I knew why she worried. It was because we were each other’s whole world. More so than ever before because, really there was nothing separating us anymore. Nothing tugging at the fabric of us so that we were forced to be two separate people. Instead, we were one. And what do you do when you get split in two again?

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  The first day we got back to school, we made a big deal of shopping for our first “grown up” dinner. You went out to buy a bottle of wine, and I stayed home to finish up. What a disaster! By the time you got home, I’d burned the vegetables and turned the steaks into dust.

  I can laugh at it now. You did, which made me mad, of course, and I burst into an extremely rare batch of tears because I’d ruined it all. Which made you know how serious I’d been about it. I didn’t ever just cry, did I? Only over you, and even then, it took a lot.

  You kissed the tears away and said we’d just have a salad. And wine. And cheese and crackers. And that we’d celebrate with a touch of each other for dessert. That was so you… then. The hard edge of you had melted some. You were softer. And yet, at the same time, more focused. More focused on what was important right then and there. At least that’s the way I felt. Maybe just because you were only focused on me. And as we both know, that’s all I’d ever wanted.

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  It happened just as the Virginia winter had begun to let up, and the air was full of cherry blossom smells. I got out of a class at dusk and went to where you were always waiting for me at the bike rack. You’d been early lately because there was a guy in the class that gave me the creeps. So, you were always there. Except…that today you weren’t.

  I waited. My heart pounding. My stomach churning. And I just knew. Something bad had happened. It wasn’t just you being late or getting stuck in traffic. You weren’t there, and I knew I had to find you. Like I knew in the hallway my freshman year. I got on my bike and started out the way I knew you would have come. When my cell phone rang, I almost crashed. I dropped the bike to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Camdyn Swayne?”

  My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. “Yes.”

  “We have you listed here as an emergency contact for Jake Phillips.”

  My knees buckled, and I sat down hard on the curb. Waiting for the worst. I was breathing hard and yet not breathing at all. It was weird. “Miss Swayne?”

  “Yes?” I croaked out somehow.

  “We have Mr. Phillips here at Montgomery Regional. He’s had a diabetic seizure.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  I flew back to the apartment on my bike, jumped into the Jeep, and was at the hospital in under twenty minutes. In that time, I’d called home, left messages on both our parents’ cells, and sent Mia a text.

  When I scrambled into the ER, the nurse took pity on my ragged look, and let me up to your room right away. You looked like you always did after these episodes. Hooked to wires, pale, tired. But today, when you looked at me, there was something else in your eyes. Something you were trying to hide.

  We didn’t get to say anything, I’d just barely grabbed your hand when the doctor came back in. He looked at me and stopped and then kept coming. “I’m Doctor Wong,” he said with his hand outstretched. I took it and shook it, “Cami Swayne. I’m Jake’s girlfriend.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ms. Swayne. Dive champ, right?” And he smiled. It was a nice smile. Now, thinking back, I wish I could have wiped the smile off his face. I wish that I could have somehow prevented the words from coming out of his mouth, but I couldn’t. And the words came anyway.

  “Jake’s collapse is not just related to his diabetes. His kidneys are pretty shot.”

  I looked at this strange doctor as if he was an alien creature for a long time. We’d been down this road before. Everything was going to be okay after a few days of fluids and intense glucose monitoring.

  “You knew about his kidneys, right?” the doctor continued talking to me.

  “He’s had some issues with his ketones for about eighteen months, but we thought we had it under control,” I acknowledged.

  The doctor looked surprised.

  I looked at you, and I knew. I knew that you’d been having a harder time than you’d admitted to me. You hadn’t wanted me to know. Hadn’t wanted to burst my… your… our bubble. You were still protecting me.

  “God damn it, Jake,” I said.

  The doctor was even more surprised. He put a hand on my shoulder, but I shook it off.

  “I’m going to get some air.” And I left you. I left you there.

  I was furious. So very, very angry. Angrier than I’d ever been at anyone, even you, before. Angrier than I’d been at Seth. Angrier than I’d been at myself with Seth. How could you not tell me? How could you lie beside me every night and put your arm around me and not tell me that your body was giving out on you?

  It took me at lea
st thirty minutes of pacing and storming and kicking the tires of the Jeep before I could calm myself down to go back. When I did, the doctor wasn’t there. You had your eyes shut, but as always, you knew that I’d walked in.

  You opened them and looked at me hesitantly. Like you rarely did. Your normal, confident self on the wayside. No longer godlike. Slowly, you’d been giving in to your mortal side without telling me. I sat on the bed by your feet and curled my knees up to my chest, staring at you.

  “I’m really mad at you,” I said finally.

  “I know. I’m lucky I still have a shoulder.” You smiled weakly.

  “How could you keep this from me?”

  You shrugged. But I knew. You couldn’t stand for me to see you as weak. You couldn’t stand to be the one needing help.

  “We weren’t sure it would happen this fast,” you said by way of an apology.

  “Who’s we?”

  “Doctor Wong and I.”

  “Do your parents know?”

  “No.”

  I just looked at you. Fuming still, but unable to keep the force of it while looking into your mosaic eyes that looked tired and afraid.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Dialysis, and they put me on a transplant list unless we can find a donor that matches me in someone we know.”

  That was easy. I mean, I had to be a match, right? Hadn’t everything in my life been for you? So, why would this be any different? I almost smiled because it seemed so simple.

  But it wasn’t.

  I wasn’t a match.

  I couldn’t believe it when the results came back. I demanded they start them that very same day. They couldn’t because the lab that did them wasn’t open. They only take 45 minutes to an hour, so I went the next day, while your family was still driving up to see us. The result of the crossmatch was positive, which I thought was a good thing when they first told me, but then they told me that in this test, they actually want the results to be negative.

  I felt like I’d failed you.

  And the truth was, even if I’d been a match, you wouldn’t have been able to have a transplant right away. Your panel reactive antibodies (PRAs) were too high. You had to have some transfusions and a procedure called plasmapheresis before anyone could really be a donor for you. I learned more medical terms in those few days… months… than I ever thought I’d want to know. Science had never really been my thing.

  When your parents showed up, they were furious, not just with you but with me too, because they thought I’d known and not said anything either. Then they were mad at me because I hadn’t been watching you like I knew they thought I should have been. Like I knew I should have been. But when they realized how livid I was at myself, I think they caved a little.

  That, and my mama reminding them that it was you who hadn’t told any of us what was going on. All I know was that all of this permanently ended our Hollywood movie.

  Maybe, in the end, that is why you didn’t tell me. You weren’t just protecting me. You were being a little selfish too. You wanted to live that little bit of Hollywood before everything went to hell in a handbasket.

  Sad Beautiful Tragic

  “Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting

  silence, the train runs off its tracks.”

  - Taylor Swift

  Not all the words to this country song match ours. But the tone of the song. The fact that everything was lovely and sad and goddamn tragic. That’s true. That we both broke down in very different ways. I still can’t hear this song without thinking of those times. Watching this giant among men slowly fade away.

  They kept you in the hospital in Virginia for a week. We found out that the best live kidney donor for you was actually Mia. Which was a good thing and a bad thing. The good thing was that we didn’t need to wait for you to slowly move your way up the transplant list. The bad was two things really. First, with your PRAs still all over the place, you couldn’t have the transplant yet. And second was that Mia wasn’t 18. The doctors recommended, even with parent approval, that the donor be 18 before a transplant take place. So, it wasn’t going to happen for a while. Instead, they put a tube in your abdomen and sent you home with a dialysis machine. The dialysis machine and a boatload of meds. To keep you healthy. That was a joke.

  You were exhausted. Tired. You tried to keep up with school, and it was a failing battle. We fought a lot because you didn’t want me to drop classes or dive practice to take care of you. They were stupid fights. Not serious. We didn’t throw things or and walk out. Our fights were more like we just couldn’t agree to disagree.

  Your parents had gotten a hotel room and stayed for another week after you’d gotten out, but they could see you were trying hard to go back to normal, and they didn’t think their hovering over you was going to help. So, they went home. Reluctantly. I think they would have preferred to take you back home right then. But you were being stubborn. You didn’t want to leave because you didn’t want me giving up ANYTHING for you. So, it was you and me. But… the truth was, I didn’t feel like I could leave you. Like when I was ten and stored up all those supplies in that dirty pink backpack just in case. Like I’d watched from the sidelines while you played football in case you needed a Gatorade.

  You finally dropped your classes for the semester. But you’d drive me to and from school as best you could. You were trying to still be the strong, perfect, godlike Jake, but one who just happened to need a new kidney. But that wasn’t really working. Your grin had faded, and when you pulled me up against you by the waist, your muscles were noticeably less. You were still gorgeous. And your kaleidoscope eyes still thrilled me to the core, but my heart ached that you were appearing so… so… frail.

  I couldn’t concentrate on school or stupid math problems when the only thing that had ever mattered in my life was crashing to pieces right in front of me. So, it wasn’t a surprise that I ended up failing a couple courses, lost my scholarship, and we moved home.

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  It felt better being with people who loved us. I took some courses at the local junior college. Coach brought me in to teach at his dive school. And whenever I left the house, I knew you weren’t alone because Marina was there.

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  You hated the entire process of being ill. Of needing the machine in our room. Of not being your normal, athletic self. The drugs made you moody. Life made you moody. But I still got to curl up beside you at night, and you’d still throw your arm over me in a protective manner, and for right then, that was all that mattered as we got you sorted out so that you might have a chance at a good kidney transplant with Mia. Beautiful Mia, who was only a junior in high school, but would, without a question, give up an organ for her superstar older brother.

  We still took trips to the lake, but you couldn’t really go in because you didn’t want to get some infection in your tube from the germs. But we could sun. And you could watch me swim. And we could hang out under our tree with the upstretched arms, reading books and talking about a life that we both weren’t really sure was going to happen anymore. That neither of us really knew what we wanted from anymore, other than each other.

  Our daddies were still holding out hope that you’d go into the family business, take over the dealership. But you thought you wanted to coach football. And what did I want? I couldn’t name it. I had what I wanted. That was you. I was just taking classes to make everyone happy. I couldn’t have cared less. I’d never really thought about me in that way. About what would Cam do with herself?

  Overall, we were in a holding pattern again. Not one of our own making anymore. It frustrated me that we’d wasted so much of your healthy time that we could have had together because you’d been worrying about our age difference, and I’d let you.

  ♫ ♫ ♫

  In the summer, the doctors thought that you were in good enough shape for the transplant. Mia wouldn’t be 18 until December, and was only going to be a senior in
high school, but between your parents and Mia, they convinced the transplant team that it was what everyone wanted. I guess you got your smooth talking from someone in your family.

  I can’t imagine what Marina and Scott must have felt like having both their children go under at the same time. I knew that, for me, it was hard enough to think about the risks Mia was taking, and yet at the same time, being so incredibly grateful to her for giving you the gift that I couldn’t give you.

  The day of your surgery, I woke with panic in my veins and your arm around me as normal, and I flipped over so I could stare into your face. You were already awake and staring at me.

  “You know…this isn’t what I wanted for us. For you,” you said with that serious look in your eyes that you got when you were trying to do something for my own good that you knew I’d hate.

  “I know.”

  “I feel like I’ve said that a lot to you over the last few years.”

  “Jake, I love you. You love me. That’s all I want.”

  You played with my hair. “I know. But I thought we’d be at school. You’d be leading your dive team to great wins. I’d be getting my degree, looking for a team to coach, even if it was pee wees.”

  I nodded. Choked up a little because this hadn’t turned out the way either of us wanted.

  “You deserve better than this, Cami.”

  “Don’t start,” I said fiercely, bringing your lips to mine and kissing you hard. In a way that still made me tingle all over, and I knew did the same to you. You groaned and wrapped me hard in your arms that were still strong, but nothing like they’d been before.