Side Effects May Vary

“Alice, brake!” screamed Harvey. “Now!”

I slammed my foot down on the left pedal, hoping that it was the brake and not the gas. Harvey’s Geo came to a jarring halt. I sighed, but not loud enough for him to notice. The wheel felt different than I’d thought it would and I’d turned hard, expecting the car to feel heavy, and then all of a sudden we were about to hit a light pole.

“See?” I said. “We’re fine.”

“Fine?” He pushed the gearshift between us into park. “We were almost not so fine,” he said, pointing to the light pole outside my window.

“It’s not my fault your alignment’s off,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“My alignment is fine, thank you very much. Besides, why couldn’t you have your dad teach you this? I don’t even get why—just, never mind.”

He couldn’t understand why I was even bothering to learn how to drive. That’s what Harvey thought, but couldn’t say out loud. I knew it.

Leaning over, he touched my leg. I let myself rest my head on his shoulder. His body sighed beneath me. This was good. Recently, we’d fallen into this rhythm where it was okay to hold hands and kiss. He wasn’t my boyfriend. Whatever this was felt bigger than that. Normally, that would have freaked the shit out of me, but wherever I was going, I would go without regrets.

For Harvey, all of this was probably cruel. But for me, it was the last meal—all the sweet things that were never meant for everyday consumption.

He kissed the top of my head. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s try this again. Put the car in reverse.”

I sat up and pulled away from him like a cat, enjoying the way his touch hit every one of my nerve endings.

Looking over my shoulder, I put the car in reverse. Harvey placed his hand on the wheel, helping me guide the car backward without hitting anything.

“Just make circles around the lot,” he said.

So I did.

“I guess we’re getting close to the end, right?” asked Harvey.

I took my foot off the break, letting the car roll to a stop.

“Your list.” He shook his head. “I meant your list. There’s not much left on it, is there?”

“Oh,” I said and pressed my foot down on the pedal again. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess not.”

“It’s been almost a year.” His voice was void of emotion. It’d been almost a year since I was diagnosed. I wanted to go back in time and examine every single decision I’d made to see what might alter my path.

There were a few more things to do before I could go from is to was, from here to gone. I’d figured out every little detail of the remains of my list, except for one thing. It was for Harvey. I wanted to give him something, something he could take with him and keep forever.

Part of me felt like I’d failed Harvey. When I made my list, I’d wanted to do something for him. I didn’t know what. And I wasn’t sure what would be big enough, important enough. But now I was running out of time—the one thing I’d never been able to control—and it seemed that my good deed for Harvey would be my one incomplete resolution. It was the thing that plagued me at night like a dripping faucet. But, in a way, I preferred to keep it like that because when the list was done, there would just be the waiting. Waiting for the moment when my body would say no more. I hoped that this—this whole year of us being together, whether we were planning or kissing or fighting—was good enough for him. I hoped he’d never forget this year of his life. No, our life. Because, thanks to Harvey, the year I died had become the year I lived.

I made another lap around the parking lot, my foot getting used to the gas and the brake. “What would be on your list, Harvey? If you knew you were going to die.”

He reached over again and cupped his hand around the back of my neck. “You,” he said. “Being with you.”

I nodded, blinking for a second too long, trying to make his words last a moment longer.

“I don’t know how, but I’d want to make sure my mom was okay. And your parents too. I’d quit my job too, like fuck-this-I’m-out-give-me-all-the-gourmet-cheese quit my job.”

I laughed. We were so different. Harvey wanted good. He wanted to leave the ones he loved in a good place. I’d just wanted the last word. But I wouldn’t be sorry for that now. It was too late for sorry.

“And, maybe,” he said, “I’d want to find out what the deal was with my dad. Just so I could know once and for all.”

I nodded. There had to be answers to his questions. But Harvey was never very good at getting what he wanted. Even when we were kids and he stumbled upon his mom’s Christmas present hiding spot, I was the one to dig through them and find the Rollerblades he’d asked for every year for the last three years.

Without warning, my mouth went dry and my head began to pound to the point of dizziness. I hit the brake and slid the car into park.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “Give me a sec.” An echoing pain spread through my body. I concentrated on the dashboard to stop myself from bursting into tears as I breathed in and out through my nose.