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And right underneath all that vibrancy is... my pile of medical equipment, sitting right next to a hideous green faux-leather hospital chair that comes standard for every room here at Saint Grace's.

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#1: Plan to-do list," which I've already put a satisfying line through, and going all the way down to "#22: contemplate the afterlife."

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"I wonder, all too often, what it would be like to have lungs this healthy. This alive. I take a deep breath, feeling the air fight its way in and out of my body."

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"Petals burst out from every edge of the twin ovals in soft pinks, deep whites, even heather blues, but somehow each one has a uniqueness, a vibrancy that feels like it'll bloom forever."

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I'm sure," I say firmly, and they know I mean it. We've been friends since middle school, and they know by now that when it comes to plans, my CF gets the final say.

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It's not like I don't want to go. It's just, quite literally, a matter of life or death.

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this isn't the first time my cystic fibrosis has taken me out of the running for some class trip or sunny vacation or school event.

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Me with an IV drip in my arm, the bag bursting with butterflies of different shapes and colors and sizes. ---Then there's the most delicate one, a faded tornador of stars that she drew my very first time here."

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Neither of them returns my smile, though and both opt to continue looking like I killed their family pets.

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"DING! Another message.
I've got CF and you remind me to always stay positive. XOXO.
My heart warms, and I give a final big smile for the camera, for that person fighting the same fight that I am."

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Since I'm not going to be basking in the warm Cabo sun in a bathing suit of my choice, I figure I can at least live a little vicariously through my friends by picking out theirs with them.

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It was taken a few summers ago on the front porch of our house during a Fourth of July barbecue. Me, Abby, Mom, and Dad, goofy smiles on all our faces as the camera captures the moment.

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She has a todo list she follows and she has a youtube live account.

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"No envie dinero, no puede pagarlo," the voice says, the tone somber, sad. Dinero. Money.

(don't sent money, you can't pay it "

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" There's a knock on my door, and it flies open not even a second later as Barb busts in holding an armful of pudding cups for me to take my medication with. "I'm back! Delivery!"

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I look over to see Will holding on to a treadmill for dear life, gasping for breath as he power walks. His portable oxygen is slung over his shoulder in that classic, trendy CFer-exercising style. I practically dragged him here.

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Because they've gone and messed up everything by getting divorced. And after losing each other, they won't be able to handle losing me, too. I know it.

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He starts to sing, softly.
"I love you, a bushel and a peck--"
Go away. I'm being stupid," I blubber as I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand, shaking me head.
"A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck."

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"I give her a big grin. "I'm going to be the best aunt ever." Aunt Stella. Me. An aunt?

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My fingers land on a sign hanging on her door. I look up, reading it: NOTHING TO EAT OR DRINK AFTER MIDNIGHT. SURVEY 6 A.M.

# data[].attributes.body
"He slams the stop button on the treadmill, the machine halting abruptly as he spins around to face me, fixing his nose cannula as he struggles to catch his breath."

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"I pull the ribbon, and the box unfurls into a handmade, colorful, pop-up bouquet of flowers, the same purple lilacs and pink hydrangeas and white wildflowers as in Abby's drawing suddenly brought to life. Will

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What is Poe doing here? He looks at me, his face serious. "Will's not coming." What?" I manage to get out. "Why isn't he coming?" "He doesn't want to see you. He's not coming."

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"Welcome," I say, sitting opposite from him, his eyes like daggers. "Bitch," he shoots back. "Asshole." We grin at each other, our fight officially over.

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I swallow hard, trying to stop the emotions that come bubbling up, tears clouding my eyes. "How did you know that?" I've seen all your movies," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles at me. "You might say I'm a fan."

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He meets my eyes. "Barb happened." He tells me about what he overheard in the hallway, how Barb confronted Will about us, how being together would kill the both of us.

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"It's almost impossible to keep my eyes open, my eyelids feeling heavier than a sack of potatoes."

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"I take a deep breath, the world swinging into focus, my head foggy. I blink as her face comes into view, my dad standing beside her. I'm alive. I made it."

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"No saliva also means no kissing." She takes a deep breath, looking right at me through the camera."Ever."

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"I smile as I notice the tiny pink hearts floating above their heads, chuckling at the giant arrow in between reading " FIVE FEET AT ALL TIMES" in big, bright red letters."