Five Feet Apart

by Rachael Lippincott

“What?” she says, shaking her head adamantly. “No.” “Why not?” I ask. “You’re beautiful.” Shit. That slipped out. She stares at me, surprised and, unless I’m imagining it, just a little pleased.

I can see her lips twitching into a smile. The first one she’s given me. She’s making a joke. Stella Grant is making a joke. I laugh, shaking my head.

“Call it whatever you want, but Stella’s got her shit together.” He stops rolling the skateboard and gives me a big smile. “She definitely keeps me in line.” “She’s bossy.”

“Nah, she’s a boss,” Poe says, and I can tell from the expression on his face that he means it. “She’s seen me through thick and thin, man.”

“Second, she’s been my best friend practically my whole life,” he says, bringing me back to the present. I swear he’s getting a little teary eyed. “I think you love her,” I say, teasing him. “Oh, hell yeah. I fucking adore her,” Poe says like it’s a no-brainer. “Would lie down on hot coals for her. I’d give her my lungs if they were worth a shit.” Damn. I try to ignore the jealousy that swims into my chest.

His voice echoes in my head, calling me beautiful. Beautiful. It makes my heart flip in a way it shouldn’t.

Her eyes travel to the drawing I did of Stella

the yoga room, hanging next to the lung drawing Stella had put up above my desk, the corner of her lip turning up as she looks at it.

take a deep breath, shaking my head. He stands up, stepping toward me and groaning in frustration. “This disease is a fucking prison! I want to hug you.” I sniff, nodding in agreement. “Pretend I did, okay?” he says. I see he’s blinking back tears too. “And know that I love you. More than food! More than the Colombian national team!”

I crack a smile, nodding. “I love you, too, Poe.” He pretends to blow me a kiss, without actually breathing my way.

her hazel eyes making my heart pound heavily in my chest. It’s so good to see her.

He answers in half a ring. “Buy you a donut?” I ask. We meet in the multipurpose lounge, and I grab him a package of his favorite chocolate minidonuts from the vending machine, tossing them to him on his love seat. He catches them, giving me a look as I buy a pack for myself. “Thanks.” “Welcome,” I say, sitting opposite from him, his eyes like daggers. “Bitch,” he shoots back. “Asshole.” We grin at each other, our fight officially over.

Wanting something that I couldn’t have. But now what I want isn’t outside. It’s right here, close enough to touch. But I can’t. I didn’t know it was possible to want something so bad you could feel it in your arms and your legs and in every breath you take.

I pull out a carefully folded piece of paper, opening it all the way up to reveal a cartoon drawing done entirely in crayon. A tall boy with wavy hair is facing a short girl, black crayon labeling them as Will and Stella. I smile as I notice the tiny pink hearts floating above their heads, chuckling at the giant arrow in between reading “FIVE FEET AT ALL TIMES” in big, bright-red letters.

“No saliva also means no kissing.” She takes a deep breath, looking right at me through the camera. “Ever.” I exhale, nodding solemnly. That’s a major bummer. The thought of kissing Stella is . . . I shake my head. My heart rate practically triples at just the thought of it.

She stands up, determined. “So, after all that CF has stolen from me—from us—I’m stealing something back.” She holds up the pool cue defiantly, fighting for every one of us. “I’m stealing three hundred and four point eight millimeters. Twelve whole inches. One fucking foot of space, distance, length.” I stare at the video in total admiration. “Cystic fibrosis will steal no more from me. From now on, I am the thief.”

Stella. She holds the pool cue out, the tip of it touching my chest, her full eyebrows rising in challenge. “Five feet apart. Deal?” Exhaling, I shake my head, her speech from the video already making me want to close the space between us and kiss her. “That’s going to be hard for me, I’m not gonna lie.” She looks at me, her eyes intent. “Just tell me, Will. Are you in?” I don’t even hesitate. “So in.”

white roses sitting on the table, his eyes crinkling as he smiles. “You stealing roses, Stella? First a whole foot and now this?” I laugh, reaching up to touch the rose tucked behind my ear. “You got me. I stole it.” He pulls at the other end of the pool cue, shaking his head. “Nah, you gave it a better home.”

I can’t take my eyes off her. The red ribbon in her hair. The rose tucked behind her ear. The way she keeps looking at me. I don’t feel like any of this is real. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,

I attempt to hold the door open for her, which is apparently very tricky to do when you’re holding a pool cue and need to be five feet apart at all times, but I’m a gentleman, dammit.

“Hold up. Your birthday is in two days?” I smile at her, but she doesn’t smile back. “Yep! Lucky number eighteen.” “Will!” she says, stomping her foot, upset. “I don’t have a present for you!” Can she get any cuter?

There’s something I actually want. “How ’bout a promise, then? To stick around for the next one?” She looks surprised, and then nods. “I promise.”

fight for a deep breath, watching the glow from the pool as it plays against her collarbone and her neck and her shoulders. “God, you’re beautiful. And brave,” I say. “It’s a crime I can’t touch you.”

She looks at me and I want her to see it in my face. I mean, look at her. “You’re perfect.”

want absolutely anything. Instead, I lean over, kissing his reflection on the glass. He reaches up slowly, touching his mouth with his fingertips, like he felt it, and we turn to face each other. I look over at him as the sun slowly crests the horizon, casting a warm glow onto his face, his eyes bright and filled with something brand new but somehow familiar.

Then I look down, noticing a cafeteria milk shake sitting on the floor, a note resting underneath it. Bending down, I pick it up, smiling as I read: “Poe said you like chocolate. Vanilla is obviously the better flavor, but I’ll let it slide because I like you.”

“When is date number two?” he writes, and I smile,

I swipe to see a picture of Stella, looking cute as hell in a chef’s hat and holding a yellow balloon, a big smile on her face. The message reads: . . . our second date begins!

She looks beautiful.

With a click, the doors open, and a bunch of voices yell out, “Surprise!” My jaw drops. Hope and Jason, but also Stella’s friends, Mya and Camila, just back from Cabo, sit at a completely set table covered in a hospital sheet, white candles sitting on either end of it casting a warm glow on a basket filled with fresh bread and a perfectly chopped salad. There are even medicine cups with red-and-white Creon pills set in front of three seats at the table. I am completely stunned.

I smile, looking around the table at everyone as we dig into the salad and the bread. My heart feels so full, it’s disgusting. I look across the table, smiling at Stella, and mouth a “thank you.” She nods, blushing and looking down. Girlfriend.

Everyone raises their glass. “Salud!” I look across the table at Stella, winking. “Too bad I’m allergic to shellfish, Poe.” Poe stops dead midserve and slowly looks over at me. I crack a grin, shaking my head. “Kidding, kidding!” “I almost threw a lobster at you,” Poe says, laughing.

He shrugs casually. “I’ve been practicing for next month when Michael and I visit my mom,” he says, giving me a look that clearly is telling me this is no big deal. So, of course, I shriek in excitement. Finally! “Yep,” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re right, Stella. He loves me. And these past few weeks without him have been harder than I could’ve imagined. I love him.” He’s practically radiating joy.

She’s just Stella. I spread my arms and fall down next to her, the snow molding to my body as I land. I laugh, making a snow angel too, my whole body cold from the snow, but warm from the moment.

push off him and try to spin, throwing my arms out, my face turned toward the starry sky. Twirling around and around on the slick ice, I hear his voice. “God, I love you.” The way he says it is so soft and real and the most wonderful thing.

run to Will, our bodies colliding, our feet giving way as we tumble to the ice, laughing as we land together. I pull his arms around me, resting my head on his chest as the snow falls around us, my heart beating so loud, I’m almost sure he can hear it. I look up at him as he leans in. Each magnetic breath he takes pulling me closer.

I straighten, desperately pulling in one more short breath, knowing deep in my chest that it is the last breath I will ever get. And I give it to her. I give everything I have to her, the girl that I love. She deserves that. I push every bit of air in my body into her lungs, collapsing on top of her, no idea if it was enough, hearing the sirens of the ambulance I called blare in the distance. Water trickles over my head as my hand finds hers and I finally let the darkness consume me.

“I don’t want to lose Will, though,” I say, meaning it. “I love him, Dad.”

Then everyone looks at Barb, who is dead silent.

“Oh, hell yes! I’m in. I’m definitely in,” she says, smiling, the two of us on the same page for the first time probably ever.

I’ve been stuck on the same drawing. A drawing of Stella, spinning around on that icy pond, moments before I told her I loved her. I keep trying to get every small detail right. The moonlight shining off her face. Her hair trailing behind her as she spins. Pure joy filling every feature. Tears fill my eyes as I stare at the drawing, and I brush them away with my arm,

knowing that for once, I’m doing the absolute right thing.

I love her.

He’s holding a scroll and quill, the words “Will’s Master List” written on it. And below, a single item. “#1: Love Stella Forever.”

I try to somehow tell him through my look not to leave. That I need him. He gives me a faint smile, and I see the tears in his blue eyes. “Finally, I’ve got you speechless,” he says, his voice pouring out of the phone.

“People in the movies are always saying, ‘You have to love someone enough to let them go.’ ” He shakes his head, swallowing, struggling to speak. “I always thought that was such bullshit. But seeing you almost die . . .”

“In that moment nothing else mattered to me. Nothing. Except your life.” He presses harder too, his voice shaking as he continues. “The only thing I want is to be with you. But I need for you to be safe. Safe from me.”

He fights to continue, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want to leave you, but I love you too much to stay.” He laughs through his tears, shaking his head. “God, the freakin’ movies were right.”

“I will love you forever,”

I love him. And he’s about to leave my life forever so that I can have a life to live. “Please close your eyes,” he begs, his jaw tightening. “Let me go.”