Gwendalynn: The Girl With Cancer

Gwendalynn | 19

When we went to the funfair for the first time...

JULY - 2011

I sat in the living room clutching my jacket and tapping my right foot, anxiously waiting. George sat in the single chair on my right, his arms on each arm rest, his fingers tapping the caramel coloured fabric.

"So, I stand clear, am I correct?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly in an authoritive way.

I nodded frantically. "Y-yeah."

"If you hurt my daughter; there will be bigger complications in your life."

"I understand."

He relaxed and slouched in the single couch, staring at me. This was a completely different side to George than I was used to. Maybe it was the fact that this was a particular event, giving me the privacy to be with Gwen only in a more subjective way. It could also be the idea that his daughter is finally growing up, going on a date with the boy she calls a best friend due to the countless amount of days they'd spent together and all the time I've dedicated to being by her side.

Gwen and I have been friends for nearly a whole year. We'd let each other know of our deepest secrets. I'd told her about my issues when it came to the people at school when I was a younger boy, being kicked around and bullied, as if I were nothing, only to their satisfaction of abuse.

Denise seemed a lot more understanding about the situation. In all honesty, I think they feel bad for Gwen. She's sick and there's a possibility she won't live for a long time. Her leukemia is a dangerous one. I feel like they want her to live a teenage life as much as possible, even if that means dating at the age of fifteen.

Besides, they shouldn't worry about Gwen and I... being... sexual or anything. She's too sick for that to even happen and I would never take advantage of her like that. I'm not ready for that kind of stuff either, I'm sixteen.

To others, you'd think a boy at my age would be dying to get that kind of action from a girl, but to me, it just doesn't seem right. I don't know, maybe my hormones just haven't kicked in yet. Don't get me wrong, I'll want it sometime, but not now, and especially not with Gwen and her condition.

It'd feel too wrong.

Ironic. Being with Gwen like that feels wrong but it feels right to go around and do graffiti.

"Ready to go, Kyle?" Gwen asked, appearing through the doorway of the living room.

"Yeah!" I sprung up from my sitting place, glad to rid of the tension in this room and the awkward stares from Gwen's father.

I had to remind myself earlier that he's just looking out for his daughter. I do not blame that at all whatsoever. I'm sure I'll be the same way with my children.

"Bye, Daddy." Gwen said, giving her father a gentle hug once he'd gotten up as well.

He returned the gesture, reminding her to be home not too late and reminding me as well, but in a more intimidating and firm tone. Denise stood in the hallway, a bright smile across her face. She led Gwen and me to the door, as if this were Prom or something. I didn't necessarily like them so close to us, but how can I complain? This is the first time their daughter is leaving the house with a boy alone going somewhere more than just a hang out.

Gwen headed down the porch steps when I felt a hand grasp my wrist.

"Kyle," Denise whispered, "if she... If anything happens-"

"Call you guys, I know." I interjected. "She'll be fine, Mr. and Mrs. Conrad. I promise. She's all right with me."

Denise seemed a bit uneasy, a large difference from the expression she had before when Gwen was in the room.