Anyone who saw aa I stared out the window, watching the golden rays of the sun, would probably think I'm some nature lover. Nature? Ugh, nature sucks. Or maybe the whole universe does. The fact that some things just happen, out of your control—it's maddening.
Nature only feels like comfort when you're down. It's been a week since Bale, my dog, died. Aging means dying, and you're to expect it because it's bound to happen. But that doesn't make it any easier.
I'm Maya. Nineteen years old, terrible at everything except wearing glasses, showing up late, and being clumsy. I love books, doughnuts, and music. Mostly fiction, because that's where I escape reality.
Fun fact? I was at the hospital today. Yep. I'm going to die. And no, not in the nature kind of way. I have osteosarcoma. Cancer in my bones.
Have I ever been strong? No.
Do I suck at doing what my friends do? Yeah.
Do I get tired easily? Definitely.
I've felt tired since I was thirteen, but I thought I was just lazy. I'd lie in bed all day, earphones in, reading novels, eating cookies, and sleeping. Those were my hobbies.
Tonight, I sit alone with nineteen flickering candles on a chocolate cake. No music, no balloons. Just me and the quiet hum of the city. Tomorrow, I turn twenty. But will I even get there?
The phone buzzed beside the cake jolting me from my thoughts. I glanced at the screen—Dad's name flashing. I hesitated. Last time we talked, he sounded… different. Distant. Like I was a stranger.
"Hey, Maya," he said, voice careful, polite but not quite warm as it used to be. Then, his voice was not only warm, but also full of unquantifiable love but now…
"Hi, Dad," I whispered. The silence stretched awkwardly.
"Happy birthday."
"It's tomorrow, Dad," I replied, a little surprised. Could he have mixed up the date? That had never happened before.
"I know, Maya. Um… calling to check… on you, and wish you in advance. How's… everything?"
"Same," I lied.
"Deborah asked me to tell you she hopes you're doing well," he added quickly, like he was reading from a script.
I wanted to say something—anything real—but all I managed was a soft, "Thanks."
We said goodbye, and the line went dead. I stared at the phone, wishing for a connection that felt like home.
I barely had anyone to talk to, except Kate. She's been my friend since middle school—and honestly, only God knows what I'd do without her. She's a walking love letter, the life in any room. Her smile is the prettiest I've ever seen, and the way her eyes light up reminds me of stars. Kate is the most beautiful girl I know—chatty, yet classy.
We bonded on the first day of middle school, during those awkward introductory speeches. According to her, I caught her attention when I used the word "tendentious". She still insists no "regular middle schooler" would ever say that.
My phone buzzed again. Kate calling.
I smiled and picked it up.
"Happy birthday in advance, babe!" she said, her voice all bright and bubbly—typical Kate.
"Thanks, Kate. I was just thinking about you a moment ago."
"Ooooh, you miss me!" she teased.
"I'm just kinda bored right now, and you're the only person who makes me want to get up every morning."
I paused, waiting for the hilarious comeback I knew was coming.
"Oh, don't go all poetic on me, Maya! Why are you bored though? What's up with Zuly?"
"Zuly?" I echoed, my heart clenching a little at the name. "We broke up two weeks ago. I told you right after it happened."
"I know, Maya," she said gently. "I just thought maybe you two were going to work things out…"
She trailed off. Then, without missing a beat, "What about your dad?"
I forgot to mention—Kate asks a lot of questions. Once she likes someone, she becomes inquisitive.
"Same," I sighed. "He talks like I'm a stranger ever since he married Deborah."
Deborah. My stepmother. Polite smiles and stiff hugs. We've never really clicked. It's like we're two people pretending to care because we both love the same man. Only difference—she still gets to live with him, and I just get scheduled calls.
Kate exhaled. "I know it's not the same, Maya, but… maybe he's trying, just not in the way you need."
"I perfectly understand," I said, even though I didn't. But it was easier than unpacking the disappointment.
And that's when my mind drifted—to the birthday that still makes my heart ache in the best way.
My thirteenth.
Dad had insisted he'd bake me a cake. No store-bought shortcuts. "How hard can it be?" he'd said, confidently waving a spatula like it was a sword.
It went wrong from the first minute. The batter was too thick. Or too runny. We weren't sure. At some point, we lost count of the eggs. I had flour on my face, he had icing in his hair, and we were laughing so hard we could barely breathe.
We gave up trying to bake a cake and made doughnuts instead.
The kitchen looked like a flour bomb had gone off. But it didn't matter. It was the happiest I'd seen him since Mom left. Just me, Dad, and a plate of oddly-shaped, undercooked doughnuts.
I've loved doughnuts ever since.
The silence from Kate's end brought me back.
"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "Zoned out."
"I figured," she chuckled. "You do that a lot when you're remembering the good parts."
"Yeah… I miss him. Not just the dad I call. The one who used to try."
There was a pause, not heavy—just full of quiet understanding.
"I wish I was there with you," Kate said. "We could've done something wild and spontaneous like always."
"I wish so too," I smiled sadly. "But Georgia is like a whole universe away."
Kate's in college out of state. Far enough that her hugs are just memories and her laughter only comes through phone speakers now.
"Well, how about I make it up to you this weekend?" she said brightly. "Video call, doughnuts, and an embarrassing playlist?"
I laughed. "Deal."
"So… do you think you and Zuly could still make up?" Kate asked softly.
"Kaaateee," I groaned, dragging her name out to shut the thought down.
"I know it hurts," she continued, unfazed. "But you were happy with him. I just… I hate seeing you lonely."
Another ache hit. This one deeper. Sharper. I clenched my fist, nails digging into my palm. Anything to stay composed. I didn't want Kate to know I was crumbling.
Because it used to be beautiful.
About three months ago, We were walking through the campus courtyard, fingers intertwined. The sky was a pale shade of dusk, and he had that silly, sleepy look he always wore when he was relaxed around me.
"You don't even know how much I love you," Zuly whispered, pulling me closer by the waist.
I smiled up at him, eyes tracing the scar on his chin I'd once teased him about. "Then tell me."
"I love you like music on a rainy night," he said. "Like late-night noodles and your terrible playlists. Like—"
"Okay, okay," I laughed. "Don't get poetic. That's my department."
We kissed then—easy, unforced. Like we belonged.
But it didn't last.
It was a Saturday. We had plans—dinner at my favorite spot downtown. I wore the peach dress he said made me look like summer. My hair was let down, soft waves tumbling over my shoulders in their rich chestnut brown, catching the evening light like it had something to say. He always said he loved my hair that way — free, wild, real.
No call. No text.
Two hours later, I took a walk to clear my head. The breeze tugged at my curls as if nudging me toward the truth I didn't want to face.
And there it was—Zuly and her. The girl from down my street. The one who once asked if Zuly was my cousin. Laughing like the world hadn't just betrayed me. Her head resting on his shoulder, his hand casually tracing hers like it belonged there.
He looked up, saw me… and didn't even flinch.
That night, the peach dress was tossed across my bedroom floor like a bad decision. No apology, No explanation. He sent a five-line text that broke more than just my heart:
"It's not working, Maya. I don't think we're right for each other. I've moved on. You should too."
As if we'd been nothing.
"So?" Kate asked
"I'm not lonely," I said quietly, forcing the words out. "Just… learning to sit with myself." my voice a little steadier than my heart.
Kate didn't respond right away. I could hear soft rustling on her end, maybe shifting in bed, maybe just giving me space.
"Well… just know you're not sitting alone," she finally said. "Even from two states away."
That tugged a small smile from my lips, even through the sting. She always knew how to say the right thing, even when everything felt wrong.
"You're the best, Kate."
"I know." She chuckled. "And because I'm the best, I'm going to be annoying and ask: have you finally started that bucket list?"
I exhaled. That list again.
"No," I said. "But I think I'm ready to."
"Good. And don't write boring things like 'eat gelato'. Be bold. Be Maya."
I smiled to myself. Maybe I would.