"You're skipping down the hallway," Kylie informed me, as I stumbled into her.

"I know," I said, letting out a giddy laugh.

"What has you so happy?"

"I don't know."

She shook her head at me, opening the hallway door for me. "I worry about you Sophie Allen."

I offered my arm out to Kylie.

"What?"

I shook my arm. "Come on."

She laughed, looping her arm through mine, and we skipped out to the parking lot together.

"Where are you headed?" Kylie asked me, as I unlocked my car.

"Well Bryce supposedly went to the doctor today, so I'm going to pick up some smoothies and check on him, and then I should probably get some studying done so-"

"I need to talk to you," Clayton informed me, coming up to me in the parking lot.

"I'm having a conversation," I informed him. "Patiently wait your turn."

Clayton rolled his eyes. "Let me rephrase. I have no interest in talking to you. But it's necessary."

"I'll leave you two to bicker by yourselves," Kylie said, with a laugh. "If you end up studying US History tonight, give me a call so we can study together."

"Sure," I agreed, and she skipped off to her car.

"See? Isn't it fun?" I called out after her.

"It is!" she called back to me over her shoulder.

"Juniors," Clayton muttered.

"As if you weren't one just last year," I retorted.

I hate it when Seniors try to act all high and mighty, like they're better than the rest of the student population.

But I really just hate Clayton Johnson.

"What is so important that it couldn't wait more than two seconds?" I asked Clayton, folding my arms across my chest.

"My English textbook is in Bryce's locker."

"What?"

"Am I not speaking English?"

"Why is your English textbook in Bryce's locker?"

"He took it for me one day after school because I left it in the classroom and then stored it in his locker, but then that asshole never came back to school."

"Well excuse him for getting sick."

"Yeah well he still has my English textbook and I don't know his locker combination."

"And you just suppose that I do?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Well you are his girlfriend, for some reason I still don't understand, so yeah."

"You sure do know how to flatter someone Johnson."

"It's my specialty."

"His combination is 21-6-17, and maybe you should try keeping track of your own textbooks like a big boy."

He just rolled his eyes, turning back towards the school and jogging away from me.

"You're welcome!" I called after him.

I slid into the driver's seat of my car, stopping by Smoothie King on my way to Bryce's house.

Bryce's mom's car wasn't in the driveway when I got there, so I let myself in through the back door.

I checked Bryce's room first, but it was empty so I headed into the living room, figuring he was probably playing some video games.

The boy was obsessed with the XBOX.

I found Bryce asleep on the couch, cuddling a pillow. Dawson was lying on the floor by the couch, but his head lifted as I came into the room.

I placed the smoothies on the counter, opening the sliding glass door for Dawson.

"Come on buddy," I whispered, sure that he hadn't been out today.

He usually won't leave Bryce's side, especially when he's sick.

Dawson just stared at me.

"Come on," I repeated, stepping outside myself.

Dawson just continued to stare at me, like I was the world's biggest idiot.

I stepped back inside, closing the sliding glass door.

Bryce probably needed to wake up if he wanted to sleep tonight. Plus I'm sure he hadn't eaten lunch today.

I bent down and kissed his cheek. "Good morning gorgeous."

"No."

I chuckled, ruffling his hair as I plopped down on the floor next to Dawson. "Did you have a nice nap?"

He let out a yawn, rolling over and blinking his eyes open, staring at the pillow in his arms. "Apparently."

His hair was growing back in quite nicely. You could only see a faint outline of the scar now.

He sat up, letting out another yawn and placing the pillow off to the side.

He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants, shirtless.

I loved it when he was shirtless.

"What time is it?" he asked me, before dissolving into coughs.

His voice was still nasally.

"A little after 2," I said, reaching over to pet Dawson. "Have you taken Dawson out today?"

Bryce recomposed himself, letting out a couple of sporadic coughs and clearing his throat. "He won't go anywhere," he complained, standing up and stretching out.

"I tried letting him out but he just stared at me," I informed him.

"Come on D-dog," Bryce said, heading over to the sliding glass door.

Dawson hopped to his feet, following Bryce.

"Traitor," I muttered.

Bryce opened the door halfway and Dawson went bounding outside.

"I brought you a smoothie," I informed him. "Have you eaten at all today?"

"I ate some eggs for breakfast," he said, swiping the smoothie I brought him off the counter. "I haven't had much of an appetite."

"What did the doctor say?"

Bryce began to cough again, unable to get anything out.

"Did he give you anything for that cough babe?"

"He gave me a shot in the butt."

I raised my eyebrows, letting out a giggle. "What?"

Bryce wiggled down his pants a little.

"What are you doing?"

"Look," Bryce asked, pointing to the band-aid on his butt. "He gave me a Depo shot and some antibiotics."

"You're insane."

Bryce pulled his pants back up, taking a seat next to me on the couch. "I'm ill so that means you have to be nice to me."

"Says who?"

"Those are the rules."

I shook my head as he laid his head on my shoulder.

"Are you feeling better?" I asked, kissing the top of his head.

"Not really."

"Did the doctor say what it was?"

"Bronchitis."

"You have Bronchitis?"

"Yeah, because of my awful immune system."

I love how easily the s-words just flow in his sentences now.

I ran my fingers up and down his back. "That's okay, we'll get you better with a lot of rest and smoothies."

"And FIFA," he added.

"I don't think Bronchitis calls for FIFA," I said, with a laugh.

"Well I have to stay home tonight, so now it does."

"What, did you have big plans or something?" I teased.

"Well I was going to go to the game," Bryce informed me, before taking a sip of his smoothie. "But I had to call Coach and inform him that I couldn't make it."

I knew that had to kill Bryce on the inside. Even though he couldn't currently play baseball, he'd taken a liking to going to the games.

"Well they have like three games a week," I pointed out. "So we'll just catch the next one."

"Yeah well Coach said he's going to send over some of his wife's famous casserole or whatever that's supposed to heal me."

That's so cute.

Dawson came back inside, looking to Bryce expectantly.

"They're all the way over there," Bryce complained about Dawson's treats.

Dawson let out a bark.

"Oh alright," Bryce muttered, coughing as he made his way over to Dawson's treat jar.

"You spoil him," I said, with a laugh.

"I know," Bryce agreed, tossing him two treats. "Start up the XBOX."

~*~

"For every goal I score I want a kiss," I informed Bryce.

"You want Bronchitis?" Bryce asked me, raising an eyebrow.

"I want a rain check on all my kisses," I amended. "And once you're better you to have to give me every single one whenever I want them."

"That sounds so sexy I'll probably let you win."

The doorbell rang and Dawson immediately jumped to his feet, barking.

"Chill out," Bryce said, pushing down on his butt.

"It's probably your Coach," I said, standing up. "I'll go let him in."

Bryce nodded, pausing the game as I went to answer the door.

"Look, I'm not too happy about this either-" Steven started off, as I answered the door, but he stopped once he realized it was me. "You're not Bryce."

"And you're not Coach Ferrara."

"What are you doing here?" Steven asked me.

"My boyfriend lives here. What are you doing here?"

"Coach made me come here," Steven informed me, holding out a covered pan. "With food. He said he had to go and pick up his son from the babysitter or something but that I had to bring this over here if I wanted to see the field tomorrow."

"Well come in," I said, stepping to the side and letting him inside.

"It's not Coach," I informed Bryce, leading Steven into the living room.

"Well who is it?" Bryce asked, as he yanked his controller to the side.

He'd already exited our FIFA game and started one of his racing games, that jerk.

Bryce paused his game and turned to face us. "Why are you in my house?" he asked Steven.

"I have strict instructions to place this in your refrigerator," Steven informed him. "And then trust me, I'm gone."

"You want to show him where the fridge is?" Bryce asked me, already resuming his game.

"Sure," I agreed, sarcastically.

"Thanks babe."

I rolled my eyes, leaving Steven into the kitchen.

Dawson immediately followed, hoping for a treat.

"Would you like something to drink?" I asked Steven, opening the refrigerator for him.

"He keeps a gallon of Arnold Palmer?" Steven asked me.

"It's all natural," I informed him.

"Does that make a difference?"

I rolled my eyes, pulling out a glass and pouring one for Steven. "Well I made it. So yeah, it does."

"You're too good to him."

"Probably," I agreed, with a laugh. "But he's too good to me."

"Gross," Steven muttered, before chugging the glass of Arnold Palmer.

"Geez, it's okay to breathe you know," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I'll put this in the dishwasher because I'm nice," Steven informed me, as he dumped the ice down the sink.

"What a gentleman."

He stopped, turning around to raise his eyebrows at me.

"What?"

"Or does he dispose of his glasses in these?" He held up a biohazard back.

I let out a bit of a forced laugh.

"Bryce is so weird, I swear," Steven muttered, as he put his glass in the dishwasher. "Who keeps biohazard bags just lying around in their kitchen?"

"Are you done?" I asked him.

"Well I don't see any sharps or bodily waste that needs to be disposed of, so I think we're good," he said, laughing as he went to put the bag back on the counter.

"Well it nice of you to stop by. Thanks for dropping off the casserole."

Steven didn't say anything in return, his back still to me.

"Did you find some sharps or bodily waste to dispose of?" I teased.

"Holy shit," Steven muttered, his back still to me.

I made my way to the other counter to see what Steven could've possibly found this time.

And then paused when I saw the Chemotherapy pills. They must've come in for Bryce's next round.

"Thanks for stopping by," I repeated. "I can lead you out if you forgot the way."

"These are Chemotherapy pills," Steven said, his voice low.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything at all.

"Holy fucking shit."

I slowly slipped out of the kitchen and back into the living room, where Bryce was playing tug-of-war with Dawson with an old rope toy.

"Is he gone?" Bryce asked.

"There's a situation."

Bryce looked up at me, the smile falling off his face when he saw mine. "What's the matter babe?" He stood up, brushing off his pants.

"Steven found your chemo."

Bryce ran his fingers through his hair, looking over towards the kitchen and then back at me. "Oh."

"He's kind of freaking out I think."

"There's something you don't know about Anderson," Bryce informed me, as he slipped past me and headed for the kitchen.

"What?" I asked, following Bryce.

Steven was still leaning against the same counter, his head bent low.

"What are you doing?" Bryce asked him.

"You have cancer," Steven stated, without looking at him.

"Well yeah that's generally what Chemo is used for."

"Bryce," I muttered.

He could be so insensitive sometimes.

"You have cancer, which is why you had brain surgery," Steven stated.

"No," Bryce declined. "I had my head opened because I had a brain tumor, which I then found out was cancerous. So it's a good thing I got it taken out."

I shook my head at him.

Steven turned to face him. "You have cancer and I have your starting spot because of it."

"No," Bryce declined, again. "I have cancer and you're borrowing my position for a few weeks until I can come back and claim it again. You're welcome."

Steven cracked a small smile. "You're such an asshole."

"I'm fine," Bryce promised. "I'm going to kick cancer's ass and then come back and kick yours."

"I cannot believe you have cancer," Steven stated, shaking his head.

"Yeah well me either. So join the club."

"You're okay?" Steven asked him, his eyes searching Bryce up and down. "Fuck dude, you have cancer and I gave you Bronchitis."

"Yeah well you're a dick. Nothing new there."

"Are you sick?"

"No shit I'm sick, you gave me Bronchitis."

"You're so incredibly stupid," I muttered, shaking my head at Steven.

"I meant are you sick as in with the Chemo. Does it make you sick?"

"I told you that I'm fine," Bryce declined.

That one was a lie. The Chemo definitely made Bryce sick towards the end of the cycle.

"I cannot believe you didn't tell me you have fucking cancer," Steven muttered.

"Why the hell would I tell you that?" Bryce asked him, staring at him like he was an idiot.

The same way Dawson had been staring at me earlier. Like owner like dog.

"Are you going to play travel ball this season?" Steven asked.

Bryce nodded. "I've almost got my clearance, probably get it at three months. So as I've been saying, when my Eagles kick your ass, you'll know exactly how it feels to be brain cancer."

"That was a dark joke," I said, shaking my head.

"It was clever though," Bryce said, reaching over to high-five me.

"I can't high-five you for that one," I declined.

Bryce bent down, reaching out his hand to Dawson, and Dawson immediately put his paw up to Bryce's.

"We'll see about that Harrison," Steven said, cracking a smile. "You've always been a cocky son of a bitch."

So what did you guys think about Kylie & Sophie in the beginning of the chapter? I think that everyone has a little kid in them sometimes. And the quick convo between Clayton & Sophie? *sigh* Some things never change. What about Bryce's diagnosis? Wish him a quick recovery! Wasn't Dawson just the cutest? I love that dog. And then about Steven finding about the Chemo & the cancer? What do you think Sophie doesn't know about Steven?

Teaser: It's Round Three of Chemo as Bryce & Sophie prepare for Kayla's wedding! (Quick Refresher: Kayla is Bryce's sister, and she's getting married to Josh.)