Bruno Read online

  “Don’t be sad,” he says, “you’re too beautiful to be sad.”

  I close my eyes to stop the tears. It works a little. He pulls me close to him and I sob into his soft wool jacket. He doesn’t tell me to stop crying anymore. He just lets me cry. I guess even beauty cries.

  He doesn’t speak for a while, but when my sobs soften, he start’s talking again.

  “I know you pretend, Saige. I can see it in your smile, in your eyes; I can feel it in your heart. You don’t have to be okay all the time, just so you can make other people happy. You deserve to be happy, too. “

  My sobs start again, but this time because I know he’s right. And I am so tired of pretending.

  “I’ve loved you for so long, Saige. And even though you’ve never told me you love me, I know you love me, too. That’s the best kind of love – when you just know someone loves you with all their heart, because you can feel their love surrounding you all the time. That’s why I whispered ‘Amore Vinci Omnia’ to you in the doctor’s office. I felt your love and I knew it was going to be okay. Just because I’m not here with you physically doesn’t mean your love didn’t make it all better. Heck, your love works even better than the greatest hospitals’ Band-Aids.”

  He starts to play with my hair as my sobs soften again.

  “I am so glad you came into my life when you did. Most people want a love story that starts before they even know what love is. But what good is that? Why do you want to start loving someone before you even know how great love can really feel? You were my angel, Saige. I knew you were an angel before you were mine, but now it’s even more amazing because you’re MY angel. I’m not scared to go now. I’ve experienced love and that’s what life’s all about, right? To love and be loved in returned? I wasn’t scared when I had to get treatments; I wasn’t scared when I lost those my curls that you love so much; I wasn’t scared when they said the cancer had come back – even worse than before. I wasn’t scared and I’m still not scared, because I have you. I don’t want you to be scared, either. I don’t want you to give up on believing in love. Everyone gets a fairytale in their life time. Some just aren’t the type of fairytales in Disney movies. But hey, this one is pretty good, right? I mean, I’m not Prince Charming, but hopefully I will do.”

  He hugs me and I tell him he’s so much better than any Prince Charming. He laughs and thanks me.

  My eyes are red from rubbing, my cheeks full of my mascara and eyeliner that rubbed off from the wetness of my tears. My hair is a clumpy mess. I sit up and look into his big brown eyes. They’re twinkling the way they did the night of the dance. They’re still so full of life, even though I knows he’s dying.

  He starts to lean into me, and before I know what’s happening, his lips are pressed against me. My heart starts racing, my legs begin to tingle, and I lean into him, pressing our lips harder together. His kiss feels so good on my lips; I craved his taste for so long. This is the true kind of love. We knew we loved each other before our bodies ever met. We kiss and kiss until we can’t kiss anymore.

  He pulls away, breathlessly, “I love you,” he says, his words full of passion.

  “I love you, too,” I respond, without even thinking.

  “Promise me you’ll love me forever.”

  I stick out my pinky for him to shake, “I pinky promise,” I whisper, leaning in for one more kiss.

  SIX

  My family had a meeting the next night. Usually Callaway meetings are set aside for too much rule-breaking happening or some big vacation coming up where details need to be planned. This one was different. This one was sad.

  After calling for ‘order in the court’, my dad started the meeting.

  “Bruno’s cancer has returned,” my dad informed my brothers.

  I was curled up on our smallest sofa beside my mom. My head was buried on her bosom; her left hand surrounded me, as if to protect her little girl from any hurt the mean world had to offer. It didn’t work, my heart hurt like crazy.

  “It’s not looking too good for him, boys. We really need to step up and help the Castino family out. I’ve already planned a fundraiser in his honor at the High School. Our family is going to be donated a lump sum of money and a lot of our time. I need sport schedules in my hand tomorrow morning and we will hand out the times that you will be working each booth.”

  Typically, my brothers would have made comical remarks about wanting a kissing booth, or auctioning off dates to hot girls. Their silence and seriousness about the situation was new and greatly appreciated.

  “What’s going to happen to him?” asked my twin brother.

  “They’re going to try some experimental drugs. The cancer came back much worse than before. It’s spread to a lot of Bruno’s vital organs and is in his blood system. The chances of the medicine they’re going to give him working is really slim, and the side effects are really bad. It’s going to make him really sick.”

  My dad’s eyes keep falling on me, trying to word things just right, in hopes I don’t run up the stairs and fall into another deep depression like I did last year.

  “He’s going to live though, right?” asks another one of my brothers. He gets elbowed on both sides.

  “Pray for him, boys,” is all my dad could bring himself to say.

  The days grew shorter and so did Bruno’s life expectancy.

  My mom invited Bruno’s family over for Christmas, saying that she didn’t want Mrs. Castino worrying about the holidays when we had plenty of food right here in this house for the four of them. I was just glad to spend more time with the only guy I’ve ever really loved.

  Bruno had stopped coming to school the week before Thanksgiving. The experimental drugs had made him too sick to deal with high school life. Instead, he studied at home with a personal tutor paid for by dad’s company. I was happy that he was getting more rest, but sad I didn’t get to catch a glimpse of him in the hallways like I was used to.

  Out of habit, I still took the long way to my classes to stroll by his locker. I didn’t see him, but I saw Melanie. Most of the kids at school didn’t know the details of Bruno’s illness, except Melanie. Her and my brother had become an official couple after the dance. She knew the details that everyone else didn’t. When she’d see walking by her locker, starring at locker 203, she’d smile and wave. Sometimes she’d say things to me; anything she could think of. Usually she asked about cheerleading, colleges, or just how my day was. A couple times she offered me some gum. I know she meant well, but it was just weird seeing locker 203 abandoned.

  My mom spent all day cooking. She somehow even managed to get some of the decoration’s Alex had made and place them in our living room, so it’d feel more like home to him. My brother’s offered to clear off the table, and my mom happily accepted. Normally, when my brother’s volunteered to do anything nice, especially if it involved cleaning, something was up. But I guess normal went out the window when someone was dying. My dad was off for the Holidays, so he spent the day doing the odd jobs that dad’s do. I didn’t do anything. I spent my time outside looking at the bare ground. We didn’t have a garden, but for some reason, I really wanted one.

  My dad called me inside an hour before the Castino’s were set to arrive so I could shower and get ready. When I walked into my room, I had a brand new bookshelf. It was much bigger than the one I had before, and all my books we’re already displayed nicely. I knew my dad had done this. My dad was always thinking of me.

  I had just finished straitening my hair when the doorbell rang. Before anyone could answer, I hear it slam open and Alex come running in.

  “Where’s Saige?” I hear him yell, “Saige! Saige! I got a present for you!”

  His happiness and cheerfulness could make the biggest scrooge smile.

  I guess someone had told him I was upstairs, because before I could put my straightener away he was inside of my room, pushing a pink box in my face. The wrapping was beautiful, but the bow was crooked.

  “Did you tie the
bow?” I ask.

  “Yes.” He says, sheepishly. “Do you like it?”

  “Why, I love it! It’s the best bow I’ve ever seen in my whole entire life!”

  He giggles at this, and starts jumping up and down, demanding I open it. I don’t want to keep him waiting, so I undo the bow and pull the wrapping off gently. He decides to help and ends up tearing the paper I was trying so hard to save into a million little pieces. I laugh.

  Under the wrapping is a plan brown box. I open it and inside are all these small photos of me and Bruno. I don’t remember any of these being taken.

  “Where’d you get these?” I ask, my mouth open in awe as I slowly go through the hundreds of small photographs one by one.

  “The day before you came to my house the first time, it was my birthday. Remember? You brought me a present even though it was after my birthday. You bought me that camera, remember? And all that film. I was so happy, it was the bestest present I’ve ever got! I asked Bruno what I should take pictures of. He said I should take pictures of something beautiful. So I took pictures of you.”

  “Aw!” I hug him close to me, “These pictures are of me and Bruno, though,” I say, teasing him.

  “Yes, I know,” he responds, “but you guys weren’t ever alone. And besides, you’re the most beautiful together.” And with that, he heads down the stairs again, demanding a cup of juice from my oldest brother who had just recently returned from college.

  I close the box and place it on top of my new bookshelf. I leave the pieces of wrapper on the floor, heading downstairs to see Bruno. I can’t wait to tell him about Alex’s present. He will love all of these photos.

  I turn the corner into the main living room, and the sight I see scares me.

  Bruno doesn’t look the way he did the last time I saw him. His hair isn’t falling out like it did with the chemo, but it might as well have; it’s greasy and oddly stick-straight. His eyes are closed and he is lying back on one of the body-sized cushions my mom had bought for my brothers guests to sit on the floor comfortably. His hands are blue, just like the veins in his neck, which are now prominent. His lips are chapped and it takes everything in me to not climb onto his lip and kiss him until he’s all better.

  He opens his eyes and extends his arms, wanting a hug. I slide slowly down onto the couch, not wanting to hurt him. My arms surround him softly. He squeezes me tight and tells me he wants me to never let go. I sniffle in a cry. Hearing my stuffy nose, he asks me if I’m feeling well.

  Typical Bruno; he’s lying on my couch, almost on his death bed, and he’s asking if I’M okay when the only thing wrong with me might be a common cold. I look into his eyes and notice they have gotten darker. They used to be a light, hazel-nut brown, and now they look like black holes. When he stares into my eyes, I notice the flicker of life come back into them, and that gives me hope.

  I settle back onto the cushion beside him. His parents enter the room, laughing at some office joke my dad just told them. They set large bowls of appetizers on the inn tables. My mom asks Bruno what he’d like to drink. Mrs. Castino hands Bruno a chip with ranch and a deviled egg.

  The television plays old Christmas movies and re-runs of holiday sitcom specials. It doesn’t feel like a typical Christmas. Two weeks before, my mom had asked me what I wanted. Without thinking, I tell her I want Bruno to live.

  “Oh honey,” she had said, hugging me tight. Her arms rocked me back and forth, comforting me the way she did when I was child and the only worries were monsters that didn’t exist. Death is the only monster that scares me now, and it really does exist.

  I look at our Christmas tree. It was close to 8 feet this year, bigger than our usual six to seven. Our ornaments from when we were kids have been placed around the tree, along with lots of lights and tensile. I notice the paper ones Alex makes in school are also hung up on the tree. My mom’s doing, no doubt.

  Bruno doesn’t speak much. I watch him sleep. His eyes are shut and his breaths are shallow. I look up at his mom, who is also watching Bruno sleep. She notices me looking, and offers me a small smile. She turns her attention to Alex, who is playing with his one-present he got to open early back at their house.

  My mom calls us into the formal dining room for dinner. I start to wake Bruno, but his mom shakes her head and whispers for me to let him sleep. The ham is already cut, meaning a plate is probably in the microwave for when Bruno awakes.

  Grace is the normal “Thank you Lord” and the chatter of what my brothers are getting for Christmas, is the same, too. Alex joins in, happy to have a dinner talk that isn’t hush-hush about bills or Bruno’s sickness. I pick at my food, not eating anything. My mom nods at me, letting me know its okay for me to go lay beside Bruno on the couch. I thank her with my eyes, and slowly leave the dining area.

  Bruno is still asleep. With no parents around to make uncomfortable, I squeeze myself beside him. The couch is big enough for both of us to fit, but just barely. My chest is pressed against his and I can feel his heart quicken. I look up to see if he is awake, but he still sleeps peacefully.

  I close my eyes, matching my breathing to his. His body might be cold, but his heartbeat is warm. I fall asleep listening to the rhythm of our heartbeats combined.

  I wake up hours later to find the downstairs quiet and empty. The only lights come from the flickering of the flashing Christmas tree lights. Bruno isn’t beside me anymore. My first thought is something bad has happened, but as soon as I sit up I see him on the ground next to the Christmas tree. He looks so peaceful.

  I lay next to him.

  “Sorry I slept through Christmas dinner,” he says, “I woke up to you sleeping so peaceful next to me. It was the best sight anyone could ever see. Your mom left us a note that she didn’t want to wake us, so they spent some time in the den before heading to bed. Oh, and there’s dinner in the microwave. Heat it up for 3 minutes.”

  The way he imitates my mom is so on point. If it was up to my mom, food and hugs could make anything better.

  “I’ve never slept next to a guy before,” I confess.

  “And I have never slept next to a girl,” he confesses right back, “especially one not as pretty as you.”

  He leans over and kisses me, right on the lips. Even though his lips are chapped, they still taste good and feel comforting. I kiss him right back as the Christmas lights continue to flicker.

  “I got you a gift,” he says, moving something out of his pocket slyly.

  “You did? I thought we had agreed on no presents this year?”

  “This isn’t a Christmas present. It’s a gift… from the heart.”

  Two gifts in one night from my favorite boys, I’m such a lucky girl. Bruno’s gift is wrapped in the same pink paper, but the bow is a darker pink and done more neatly than Alex’s.

  I untie it carefully, and Bruno waits patiently. Under the wrapping is a long, slender box. It looks almost like a necklace box. I open it and there’s a single rose. It’s dead but still beautiful. It looks oddly familiar.

  “Is this…”

  “Yes. It’s the rose I picked walking up to the hill. I picked it because it was beautiful, like you, and I didn’t want to ever forget how beautiful you are.”

  My hands shake and he reaches out to steady them with his own.

  “It was kind of dirty when I picked it. It wasn’t perfect the way the roses are in the shops. But look, it’s gotten older and is dying from being loved for so long that it’s not ugly anymore. It’s more beautiful than ever before.” He was right. The flower was older and not as full of life, but it was so pretty.

  “I’ll keep it forever,” I say, my lips pressing against his once more.

  “Saige, you don’t have to keep it forever. Loving it forever means just as much. Just because something isn’t yours doesn’t mean you can’t love it, or doesn’t mean you’ll ever stop loving it. Love is forever; whether they’re with you or not.”

  To silence my rebuttal, he presses his lips to me, pushi
ng me back. I lay the rose, still in its box, beside me. We snuggle for hours more, watching the lights flicker. Eventually, I hear his shallow breathing. I keep my head in the direction of the blinking lights and close my eyes. Even though my eyes are closed, I can still see the splotches of light. Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it’s not there.

  With that as my final thought, I fall asleep safe in the arms of the love of my life.

  SEVEN

  “I heard your boyfriend is dying.”

  It was five days after Christmas. I had come to the mall with my brothers to exchange clothing that was too big. Distant relatives just never seem to know the right size. I sat alone in the food court, waiting for my brothers to meet me after checking out the new videogames. My ex-boyfriend, Tim, had approached me when my head was down while flipping through the pages of a book I had just bought. His words made me freeze.

  Ever since Christmas, I had been in a better place with accepting the fact that I was about to lose the only guy who’s ever really mattered. Bruno really knew how to make me feel at peace. But nothing had prepared me to hear these words from someone else, especially someone as rude as my ex-boyfriend.

  I turn my nose up at him in a huff, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes.

  “It’s nothing to you.” I say, focusing my eyes once again on the book I had never been reading.

  “Yeah, it is my business. You dumped me for this dude; I deserve to know what’s going on.”

  HA! I couldn’t believe this. He had cheated on me, lied to my face countless times, and then had the nerve to show up at MY dance with a girl in my grade unannounced. He didn’t deserve anything but a punch in the face.

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” I say, holding back my rising anger.

  “Well, if you need someone, I’m here for you. I’ve always loved you, Saige. And I still do. I saw you at the dance. You looked so hot. I’d take you back any time.”

  The nerve of this creep! He doesn’t appreciate true beauty. How dare he comment on MY dance when I didn’t even bring it up? Like I’d ever want him back; not after knowing what true loving feels like. I clinch my free fist and continue flipping pages.