Side Effects May Vary by Julie Murphy

totally out of character “handle Alice with care” haze had begun to fade. Even so, yesterday when she came home with a manila envelope from the principal’s office, I felt betrayed. She held it out to me and said, “They’re expecting you back on January eighteenth.”
    I stood with my hands in tight fists at my side.
    She sighed. “Let’s concentrate on getting you back on track. If you do summer school, you might be able to graduate on time. And then there’s college, too. You’re not that far behind. Still lots of viable options available.”
    I crossed my arms over my chest. College . I hadn’t thought too much about college except for the fact that I wouldn’t be going. All of a sudden I had this future and everyone seemed to know what to do with it, except for me. I didn’t have to talk to Harvey to know what he expected from us. He would want permanence. I’d even promised him that—when it hadn’t been mine to promise. And now my parents with school.
    When it became clear I had no intention of taking the envelope from my mom, she dropped it on the counter and turned to walk down the hallway toward her room. From outside her door, she called to me, “There’s no hiding from life, Alice Elizabeth. It always finds you.”
    Then why hasn’t it found you? Why do you still get to live a lie?
    I took the envelope to my room. According to the papers from the principal’s office, I would pick up mid-junior year. I had been homeschooled the last few months of sophomore year, and over the summer I’d rot in summer school while I made up the first half of junior year. It all sounded so easy, like nothing had ever happened. Between chemo and summer school, my vacation was already shaping up to be top-notch bullshit. But then again, the cancer could always come back. In a deep corner of myself that scared even me, I thought that maybe if the cancer did come back it might not be so bad. I knew how to die. It was the living that scared me.
    But right now I was faced with two hurdles. Tonight, the “Alice’s-Seventeenth-Birthday/ Not-Dying-Anymore Party,” and in the morning I would have to face school. And with school came Luke and Celeste and Mindi. Suddenly, life was at my doorstep, waiting to be answered, but all I had were questions. It’s a hard thing to explain unless you’d ever gone through something so life altering as toeing the line between life and death.
    I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it, being in remission. I’d been going to doctors’ appointments biweekly, and everyone there treated me like a bubble that might burst at any moment.
    The doorbell rang and I heard the sounds of Natalie and Harvey letting themselves in, slipping off their boots at the door, and locking the thumb lock behind them. I didn’t really know why I was so stressed about this party thing. It wasn’t even a party. It was only me, Mom, Dad, Natalie, Harvey, and some ice-cream cake. Minutes passed, and I thought maybe they had forgotten me back here in my room. Relief as true as a lie settled in my chest as someone rapped on my bedroom door.
    â€œCome on, Al,” said my mom. She stuck her head into my room, her wavy blond hair bouncing around her chin. It was starting to grow out. She had cut her long, untamed locks into a bob when I lost my hair. I bet people at work assumed she’d cut it for the sake of solidarity with me and my bald head. But I was pretty sure it had to do with her boyfriend or whatever the hell he was. Her eyes crinkled as she bit her lip, studying me.
    I sighed and looked down at my jeans. I’d had them since I was thirteen. A little short, but they fit in the waist. I had put on about three pounds since going into remission, but most food still made me queasy. After sliding on my slippers, I followed my mom out the door and down the hallway. I couldn’t look at her without