Side Effects May Vary

We ran out to the docks and played on the pedal boats until the chill of the water became too much. Then we went to the mini mine train and used the hand pumps to go through the tunnels.

When we were done, it was too late to drive back, so we spent the night in The Tunnel of Love, which was nothing but a really small indoor roller coaster with plywood cutouts of kissing couples. It was really dark, but it was warmer than it would have been outside. Each of the coaster cars were these oversized love seats with red, sparkly plastic upholstery and purple piping.

Dennis and Debora fell asleep first, but I couldn’t sleep and neither could Alice. She crept over to my car, with her finger to her lips. Her breath smelled like spearmint chewing gum.

I opened my mouth to talk—to ask her if she was okay—but she covered my lips with her fingers and shook her head no.

Dennis’s snores echoed down the tunnel from the back cart, and I could hear Debora a couple cars back, her breaths heavy and measured.

Alice left her fingers on my lips and leaned forward into my shoulder. She pulled the collar of my T-shirt aside, kissing my neck. I breathed into her fingers and kissed her fingerprints, hoping the proof of her would always stay there on my lips.

I let my hands work up her arms until my fingers found her neck, her face, pulling her to me.

And then we kissed. It was deep and slow, like a first kiss should be. Her mouth melting against mine. I had to stop my head from working because all it was doing was thinking about this moment—Alice is kissing me. Alice is kissing me. I’m kissing Alice. I’m kissing Alice—and not living in this moment. And I couldn’t let myself ever forget this.

Alice slid down low in the cart, so I followed. She yanked her jacket off and mine too without ever pulling away from me.

I held her hips and waited for her to push my hands away as they ran up the back of her shirt and over the straps of her bra.

Her hands swept over my chest and down my stomach, while kissing my neck all the way up to my ear. The feel of her hands against my skin. And the thought of where those hands might go. I gasped.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Just kissing tonight.”

I fell asleep, with her curled into my chest and my chin resting on top of her head, scared for tomorrow because this was too perfect to last.

When I woke up in the morning, Alice sat in her own cart, wrapping her scarf around her neck.

“I’m starved,” yelled Dennis, his voice muffled, from the back of the tunnel.

Debora yawned. “Me too.”

The park looked different under the sunlight, a little bit sadder than it had the night before. Chipped paint, splintered wood, cracked sidewalks.

We piled up in the car and Alice insisted that Dennis take the front seat.

Every time I looked for Alice in the rearview mirror, she flicked her eyes off to the road and instead it was Debora whose gaze caught mine. We stopped for breakfast outside of town. There were few words, lots of yawns, and no regrets.

Alice. Then.

I didn’t expect for it to feel so good, to see Luke humiliate himself like that in front of all those people. But it did, and I wasn’t done yet. I hadn’t given Harvey any details—mainly because I wasn’t so sure of them myself, but he agreed when I asked him to take me to the Nifty- Thrifty one Sunday afternoon.

Harvey gripped the handle of the shopping cart and pushed me down the aisles of abandoned goods, sneezing into his sleeve. I’d been kidding when I told him to push me around, but when he offered, I was relieved. I didn’t know how long I could last walking up and down the aisles of this place. The spring musical was at the beginning of April, and I had a plan, giving me a few weeks to nail down the details and gather some supplies.

Between now and then, I had another chemo session to go, even though it still wasn’t doing any good. I’d taken some painkillers this morning, but it felt like my body was getting used to them and now all I felt were the side effects and none of the benefits.

“Jesus, Al, this place is killing my sinuses. Can you at least tell me what we’re looking for?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” I mumbled.

“I still don’t get why we’re here.”

“The list.”

“Oh yeah, Al, that explains everything.”

I smiled. We zigzagged up and down aisles of used goods, Harvey pushing the cart with me in it, my knees tucked into my chest. Row after row of crying children, appeasing parents, and none-too-happy employees in red vests.

Again, we paused for a moment as Harvey sneezed into the crook of his elbow. Okay, so maybe the local Nifty-Thrifty was a little bit dusty.