REVISED:The Boy With A Touch Of Cancer (BxB)

22. Hello Mr. Heartache

"The expression of deep sorrow for someone who has died, typically involving following certain conventions, such as wearing all black clothing." That was Google's definition of the word mourning.

At some point I learned that definition, I'm sure, and it was like my brain subconsciously told me to wear all black this morning. Black t-shirt under a grey jacket, black sweats, and a black baseball cap (backward, of course). For a normal person it wasn't appropriate for 90-degree weather, but for me it was fine.

Will's dead. I couldn't get that thought out of my head since I woke up this morning. Since I woke up alone and naked, and for one blissful second, I couldn't remember anything that happened the previous day. Then the memory of yesterday came crashing down on top of me. First, the news that Will died. Then the memory of every wonderful moment Leo and I shared was ruined by the pain and emptiness that the memory of Will's death caused. It was just a recurring wave of pain constantly washing over me. Then came the next stage. The stage of pure emptiness.

That's all I felt after if bawled my eyes out again: empty. I felt totally and completely empty.

I remember one time when I was in the worst, most painful part of my useless treatments when I couldn't physically stand up on my own, or eat anything without puking it back up, and I remember Will telling me one specific thing that I always remember when I feel like shit.

"I know this is going to sound cheesy and believe me it is, but I always find comfort in these words when I feel like shit." He paused dramatically, and I rolled my eyes. "Even though you feel like shit now, just remember: whether you have to be heavily medicated, or it's genuine, you will always find something to cheer you up."

He smirked at me, obviously pleased with himself that his cheesy speech had made me smile when it physically hurt to do so.

"And that reason is most likely me, as your already smiling."

"You don't have to be so smug asshole..."

That specific memory has been replaying over and over in my head since I woke up and forced myself out of bed this morning. And it didn't make me feel better, all it did was make it hurt more.

I glanced at my phone when it vibrated, already knowing who it was. I really didn't wanna talk to Abby. Hell, I didn't want to talk to anyone, but I trudged over to the table and swiped my phone off of it.

Two unread messages from: Leo

Hey babe. ❤️
I just wanted to see how you were doing...and if there was anything I could do to make you feel better?

Normally I would've been excited from him texting me, but I felt nothing. Literally nothing.

I wasn't happy, or excited when I read his text. The pain and the heartache were gone, replaced with a numbness I couldn't even begin to describe. I almost wanted the pain to be back, just so I could feel something.

I stared at the phone wondering if I should text him back, but I shoved it in my pocket and grabbed my backpack instead. I threw the bag over my shoulder and quickly left my room. I jogged down the stairs like it was any other Wednesday morning, and not like my best friend just died yesterday.

My family were all in the kitchen when I came downstairs. Mom and dad were packing lunches, and Drew was at the table eating cereal with his headphones in, ignoring every else, as usual.

Mom looked up from her sandwich with a wide smile on her face. "Hey sweetie."

"Hey," I replied quietly as I grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge.