CHAPTER 31
“That was a good show, wasn’t it?” Reuben asked. They had stopped by Angelo’s Pizza to grab a quick dinner before heading back to campus.
A good show? Kennedy wasn’t sure that’s what she’d call it. She needed more time to think through it all. Process everything she’d seen. Figure out what the musical was trying to say to her. She had this unshakeable sense that somewhere in Aida’s tragic romance was a lesson, a warning meant specifically for her. Was she too stupid to discern what it was?
Or too scared?
Reuben ate surprisingly little. He reached across the table and took Kennedy’s hand. It felt so natural. So comfortable. Why hadn’t they done this sooner?
“There’s something I want to tell you,” he confessed.
Kennedy tried to look away from the melancholy sadness in his eyes. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t mention everything sooner. I really am. It was ... it was stupid of me.” He glanced down at the table.
She gave his hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You shouldn’t have had to find out the way you did. If I had just told you ...”
“I’m sure it must have been hard. You know you didn’t have to keep it a secret.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t want it to happen like this.” A pause. Something in the way he looked at her pierced her spirit. “I really care about you.”
She stared at their hands clasped together in the center of the table. “Me, too.”
He glanced up at her. Pain shot out from his eyes, lanced her own soul. “I’m going back home when the semester’s over.”
She already knew that he was spending his summer break back in Kenya. Why was he telling her now? Why did he say it so seriously?
She glanced at his uneaten pizza, and then she knew.
“I won’t be coming back next fall.” His words were like a concrete ball sinking into an infinite depth.
Did she dare ask? “Why not?”
He stirred the ice in his Coke. “My dad lost his job when the government turned over. I can’t afford to stay here.”
“I thought you had a full scholarship.”
“It doesn’t cover flight expenses and things.” He didn’t look at her. “My family just can’t pay for all that right now.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat, unable to picture a single day at Harvard without him. “What about your studies? What about becoming a doctor?”
“I can take classes in Nairobi. It’s no big deal.”
No big deal? Maybe that was easy for him to say. Maybe he could move away without feeling as if his internal viscera had gotten dropped into a paper shredder.
She certainly couldn’t. “Why don’t you talk to Carl and Sandy? I’m sure they’ll let you spend the summers with them. They won’t even charge you rent if you just explain ...”
“That’s not all.” There was a strain in his voice she’d never heard before. “I’m doing this because it’s the best thing for us.”
His words were like a punch in the gut.
He let go of her hand and stared at the table. “The longer I stay in Cambridge, the harder it’s going to be when I ...” He choked and took a sip of Coke. “I’m sick. I may have another year, I may have twenty. But one day, this disease is going to kill me.”
“Everyone dies sometime.” It was a stupid thing to say. She realized that as soon as the words passed her lips.
“If I had my way,” he began, “if I could choose exactly how this story ends, it would mean you and me graduating, going on to medical school.” He cleared his throat. “Together. But I can’t drag you through that with me. I can’t risk getting you sick, putting you through ...” He stopped. “I have to go.”
Did he mean at the end of the semester, or did he mean right now?
“People with HIV can still be in relationships.” She didn’t admit she had already done the research, already found websites devoted to helping couples where one partner was living with HIV. It wouldn’t be easy, but it couldn’t be as impossible as goodbye.
“I can’t hurt you like that.” He shook his head. “I won’t.” Tears streaked down his cheeks. She’d never seen him cry before. “Whatever happens, I need you to remember that I’m doing this for you.”
Her throat seized up. “What if that’s not what I want?”
“You have an amazing future ahead of you. A future helping others, healing others. You are the smartest person I know, the most talented. You’re going to graduate from medical school and have your choice of any residency in the country. I’m not ...” He cleared his throat once more. “I’m not going to stop you from achieving that. I care about you too much. I ...” He let out his breath.
Kennedy leaned toward him, ready to catch his words.
“I just don’t want to hurt you.”
It didn’t make sense. Five years from now, ten years from now, Kennedy knew it still wouldn’t make sense. She should change his mind. Tell him how she really felt. Tell him all her dreams of medical school and residencies were pointless if he wasn’t there by her side, goofing off with her in the lab, joking with her during their late nights in the library cramming for tests. She couldn’t do any of that without him. Couldn’t even make it through a stupid pizza dinner without crying.
She wiped her face. “You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.
He passed her a napkin. “I know. But I ...” His voice caught again. “I want you to make me a promise.”
She glanced up at his glistening eyes. “Yeah?”
“I want you to promise me that you’ll remember this. Remember what we went through. Remember how many other people’s lives are torn apart by diseases. You’re a brilliant student. You’re going to be a brilliant doctor. And I want you to promise me that you’ll help them. Help the others so they don’t have to go through something like this.”
Her throat threatened to clench shut. “And what about you?”
“I’m going back home. I’ll still keep up my studies. I don’t know how, but I’ll manage. I’ll read every single journal article on AIDS research. And the day there’s a cure, the day doctors tell me this disease isn’t a death sentence, the day they tell me I can have a family of my own without having to worry about infecting the people I love, if you haven’t moved on, you’ll be the first person I call. Deal?”
She sniffed, still unable to believe this conversation was actually happening. She had a better feeling for how Aida felt in that underground vault as the air supply slowly, mercilessly disappeared.
“Deal.”
He reached into his backpack. “I got you a present.”
Kennedy’s hands shook as she unwrapped the small package. “The Last Battle?”
“You remember what they always repeat at the end, don’t you?” he asked.
Kennedy laughed through her tears.
“Further up and further in,” they said at the same time.
“That’s the kind of life I want you to have. The kind with new adventures, new discoveries every single semester. Every single day. It’s what you deserve, and it’s more than I can promise you. I ...” He flipped the front cover open. “I wrote you a note.”
Kennedy wondered how she was supposed to make out the words if her vision was so blurry. She wiped her eyes and read his inscription.
To my dearest friend Kennedy. Thank you for giving me the best year of my life. All my love, Reuben.
He had scooted his chair around so he was beside her now. Hugging her. Their tears intermingled on each other’s faces.
“I wish you would stay here,” she whispered.
He turned his face and kissed the very corner of her mouth. She couldn’t tell if it was on her lips or on her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut, begging God to pause time and let her and Reuben stay here forever.
“You know why I can’t do that, don’t you?” He kissed her once more.
Kennedy nodded. Some things didn’t have to be said.