Last Year's Mistake by Gina Ciocca

Author:Gina Ciocca [Ciocca, Gina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult, Contemporary, Romance
ISBN: 9781481432238
Google: GIuvBAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1481432230
Barnesnoble: 1481432230
Goodreads: 21825486
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2015-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Connecticut

Winter, Sophomore Year

I stayed completely silent on the way home from the hospital that night.

My mother glanced at me in the rearview mirror, her face pinched with concern. “Kelsey? Are you all right? You’re so quiet back there.”

“Fine, Mom.” I wondered if she heard the utter lack of conviction in my voice. “Tired. I want to go to bed.”

“I’m sure you’ll feel much better tomorrow.” Her words were too cheerful, and I knew she sensed my complete and total despair. “David can come over for dinner, and tell us all about the dance. That was so nice of him to come by, wasn’t it?”

“Mm-hm.” Sure. It was great of him to come by and flaunt his girlfriend in front of my face. The thought of glamorous, gorgeous Isabel with her fabulous figure and flowing hair squeezed my chest like a vise. She and David were probably having a grand old time on the dance floor right now, pathetic girls in hospital beds the furthest thing from their minds as they laughed and took pictures with people I used to call my friends. Holding back my tears took phenomenal effort.

I left my bloodstained shoes in the garage when we got home. I hadn’t wanted to put my torn-up, bloodied pants back on, so I’d been given a pair of scrubs to wear home. I threw them in the garbage when I changed into my pajamas, not wanting any reminder of that hospital or this night.

My mother tucked me in like I was five years old again. I was exhausted and I knew she was too, but I needed her to be more exhausted than me. There was so much I had to find out, and I didn’t want anyone hovering.

Once she turned out my light and closed the door, I grabbed my cell phone, a dinosaur talk-and-text-only model that was all my parents could spring for on their limited income. I knew David was still at the dance, but I also knew he wanted me to check in with him. Besides, texting would keep me awake until I could go downstairs to use the computer.

I typed in, I’m home. Got a fill-up on blood (so gross). How’s the dance? Then I waited for his response.

And waited.

And waited some more. Oh, and then waited even more than that.

I hit the button on my phone in frustration, wondering if he’d written back and the chime had failed to sound. Nope. Not a single new message.

Guess he wasn’t that worried about me after all.

I didn’t know why, but I felt like I needed to hear from David before I did what I’d been dreading and faced a search engine. Obviously, it wasn’t going to happen that way.

I tiptoed down to the study and closed the door. When the site loaded, I typed in the words that had been burning a hole in my brain all night. I’d hoped to come down there and find reasons why something scary like leukemia couldn’t possibly be my

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