I just stared at him, feeling like I was in a dream. Nathan was here, standing right in front of me.

"How...how did you find me?" I asked in a hoarse voice, my throat still raw from crying.

He shrugged his shoulders casually, trying to play it cool. But I could see the worried crinkle around his eyes.

"Well, when my best friend goes missing after bolting out of class like a bat out of hell, a guy starts to get a little concerned," he said dryly. "I figured if you needed to be anywhere right now, it was this place."

Nathan's face turned serious as he took a few steps closer to where I was sitting on the floor. "Beth, what happened back there? Are you okay?"

His genuine, caring tone was my undoing. I felt my face crumple as hot tears started sliding down my cheeks again.

"No...no, I'm not okay at all," I managed to choke out between sobs. "I can't beat this, Nate. It's terminal. I'm going to die."

Instantly, he dropped beside me, pulling me into his arms. I gratefully surrendered to his strong embrace, allowing myself to be vulnerable.

"Shh...it's okay, I'm right here," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on my back. "Just let it all out."

So, I did. I cried until I was hiccupping, soaking his t-shirt with my endless tears. Nathan just held me through it all, a steady source of comfort when my world had been flipped entirely upside down.

At last, the sobs slowly subsided into occasional hitched breaths. Nathan gently helped pull me to my feet, keeping a supportive arm around my waist.

"Come on, let's go sit over by our usual spot," he said softly.

I mutely let him guide me the short distance to the towering oak in the middle of the forest alcove. Over the years, this ancient, gnarled tree had witnessed so many of our laughs, tears, secrets, and dreams.

With surprising strength, Nathan boosted me up first until I was settled on the thick, familiar branch we had claimed when we were kids. He then quickly pulled himself up to join me, our sides brushing together comfortingly.

For a long moment, we just sat in silence, surrounded by the chirps of birds as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy above. I focused on Nathan's steady exhales beside me, using his grounded presence as an anchor against the turbulent storm raging inside me.

Finally, I turned to look at the face I knew better than my own, and the words came tumbling out in a broken whisper.

"I'm so scared, Nate. I don't know if I can keep going through this."

He reached out and took my hand in his, reassuringly squeezing it.

"Hey, you're the strongest person I know," he said quietly. "If anyone can get through this, it's you."

I shook my head, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks. "But it's terminal, Nate. The cancer...it's going to kill me. The doctors said so."

Nathan's face crumpled slightly at my blunt words, but he rallied quickly.

"Screw what the doctors said," he stated. "You're still here, breathing and fighting. If you don't give up, there's always hope."

I wanted so badly to believe his words, to cling to that stubborn optimism that had helped sustain us through thick and thin for so many years. But the crushing weight of my diagnosis made it hard to grasp any shreds of positivity.

"You didn't see their faces, though," I whispered hollowly. "You didn't hear how final they sounded when they told me I'm dying. There's no sugar-coating it this time, Nate."

He squeezed my hand again, shifting closer until our shoulders were fully pressed together. His presence was so comforting.

"I don't care how final or scary it sounds," he said stubbornly. "We've been best friends since we were little kids, remember? I'm your partner in crime until the very end. Whatever life throws at us, we'll handle it together."

A watery chuckle escaped my lips as I leaned my head against his shoulder. Even in the darkest time of my life, Nathan was still so unshakably Nathan. He was loyal, steady, and always trying his best to lift my spirits.

We again fell into a comfortable silence, drawing strength from our closeness and familiarity. For a while, I could imagine we were those carefree kids again, without a care beyond what game we'd play next.

Finally, Nathan cleared his throat. "So, what do you want to do now?"

I lifted my head, giving him a confused look. "What do you mean? About what?"

He shrugged. "About your...you know, bucket list or whatever? If your days are numbered – and that's a big if – don't you have things you want to do before...?"

His voice trailed off, unable or unwilling to voice the words "before you die". I couldn't blame him - I still felt like I'd woken up trapped in a lousy dream whenever I remembered my diagnosis.

I opened and closed my mouth, drawing a blank. Did I have some grand checklist of hopes and dreams to accomplish if my time ran inexplicably short? I'd always figured I'd travel the world someday, get married, have kids, and pursue an exciting career. But those ambitions all felt so big and majestic, belonging to someone with a whole life still stretching out.

Those longstanding goals seemed immaterial now that my future had been so abruptly cut short. What sort of "bucket list" could I even contemplate with the clock so rapidly ticking down?

"Uh...I honestly didn't think about making one," I admitted hesitantly.

Nathan gave me his classic half-grin, reaching over to tousle my hair in that annoying but comforting way he always did.

"Well, no time like the present, right? We'll just have to make an epic bucket list worthy of the great Elizabeth Reid."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight a small smile from tugging at my lips.

"You make it sound so easy," I chided wryly. "Pretty sure compiling a whole roster of things to cram into what could be a few short months isn't as simple as you think."

"Maybe not. But we'll never know unless we try, right? And hey, no pressure - it doesn't have to be this huge, elaborate thing if you don't want it to be. Could just be a few small things that help you find some closure or peace with...you know..."

I appreciated him delicately tiptoeing around, voicing the harsh reality that my future was far from guaranteed. Clearing my throat, I gave a slight nod.

"Yeah, okay. A bucket list doesn't sound like a terrible idea. But I'll need your help putting it together - you've always been better at that stuff than me."

Nathan beamed, giving my shoulder a playful nudge. "Don't worry, that's what I'm here for! We'll make a kick-ass bucket list to put all the other ones to shame."

I couldn't help but giggle, the sound feeling foreign but also incredibly cathartic after the day's emotional roller coaster. Leave it to Nathan to make something as daunting as compiling a death bucket list sound like an adventure.

Leaning back against the solid oak trunk, I felt the anxiety and fear temporarily loosening its vice-like grip around my battered spirit.

"Okay, bucket list extraordinaire," I said, feeling a tiny kernel of hope flicker to life. "What's the first item on the agenda?"

Nathan pursed his lips, considering my question. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he mulled it over.

"Hmm, well, we can't just jump into the huge, crazy stuff," he said slowly.

I nodded. "So, what did you have in mind, then?"

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, how about this for starters - we hit up your favourite food truck downtown and grab a couple of their famous cheesy bacon tornado potatoes!"

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? Tornado potatoes are the experience you're kicking things off with?"

"Hey, don't mock the tornado potato!" Nathan said defensively. "Those things are crazy delicious, and you know it. When's the last time you even allowed yourself to indulge in something so ridiculous but tasty?"

He had a point - between school, extracurriculars, and then getting unexpectedly hammered with my diagnosis, I couldn't remember the last time I'd paid any mind to enjoy life's little pleasures like treating myself to some outrageously unhealthy fair food.

Chuckling softly, I nodded in agreement. "Okay, you win. Kicking things off with tornado potatoes does sound perfect."

"See? I told you I'd come through with a great first idea!" Nathan preened victoriously before growing serious again. "But after we crush those potato swirls, we should probably follow it up with something...I don't know, meaningful? Like going to that quiet spot by the creek you've always loved?"

I blinked back the tears that sprung to my eyes at his thoughtfulness. Even while trying to craft an adventurous bucket list for me, he was conscientious of including places I loved, too. Typical Nate - making sure to cover all the bases.

"That sounds wonderful," I said gratefully.

Nathan reached over and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Then it's decided – some potatoes, followed by some quiet time. Not a bad little warm-up for the big leagues, yeah?"

Unable to help myself, I leaned over and pulled him into a fierce hug, tucking my face into the comforting crook of his neck. I felt his arms immediately wrap around me as he held me close.

"Thank you," I whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Nate."

His only response was to hug me even tighter, the steady thump of his heart against my ear providing its own reassurance that no matter what, I didn't have to face the terrifying uncertainty alone.

Eventually, Nathan cleared his throat. "So, I was thinking maybe we could come up with some more bucket list ideas this Saturday? Get a nice, big brainstorming session going over at your place?"

I immediately tensed at the mention of my house. "Uh, yeah...about that. Could we maybe do it somewhere else?"

He gave me a quizzical look. "Your house not working for you these days? Thought your mom usually has snacks and stuff for us ready."

I let out a humourless chuckle. "Oh, there would definitely be snacks. Among about a thousand other well-meaning gestures and coddling ever since...you know."

Understanding dawned across Nathan's features. "Ahh, I get it now. The whole dying daughter pity party is in full force."

"Exactly," I said with a sigh. "Don't get me wrong, I know they're just scared and trying their best to make me comfortable. But being smothered with concerned looks and forced cheerfulness is its own kind of exhaustion."

Nathan nodded slowly. "In that case, we'll steer clear of your place for bucket list headquarters. I'll pick you up on Saturday, then?"

A wide smile spread across my face at the thought of getting out and doing something fun - something normal - again without any tension.

"You know what? That sounds amazing," I agreed readily. "Where were you thinking we could go?"

He waved his hand flippantly. "It's a surprise. But I'm sure it will be nostalgic."

Nostalgia for the days when dying young wasn't even a flicker of worry across my mind. When my biggest concern was whether the boy I had a crush on would ever notice me. Those memories carried their own twinge of sadness but also a welcome sense of comfort and innocence I craved more than ever now.

"Count me in," I said.

Nathan beamed, thrilled to have something light-hearted on the calendar to look forward to amidst all the heaviness.

"Awesome! Oh, that reminds me..." He suddenly looked a tad sheepish. "You, uh, think you can give me a ride home when we're done here? I didn't exactly bring my car today."

I blinked at him in surprise. "How did you get to college? Did your mom drop you off?"

He shrugged, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "Nah. I just walked. Normally, you and I take turns driving, and when you weren't returning my calls," he sighed. I don't know. It just felt weird getting into my car without you."

Swallowing hard, I reached over and squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry. Of course, I'll drive you home, dummy," I said.

"Thank you," he replied, placing his hand over mine.

As the day began winding down and we reluctantly gathered ourselves to head back to reality, I felt a profound sense of gratitude. No matter what cruel curveballs life saw fit to throw my way, I would never be alone. Not with Nathan by my side, helping shoulder every single unimaginable burden.

At that moment, I didn't have the words to express how much his friendship meant to me. All I could do was pull him into one final hug, clinging to the one beautiful constant in my world of upheaval.

Chapter Five

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