Zac and Mia Read Online Free Page A

three days, then home for five, before her next cycle—that’s what Nina told Mum. The girl’s got osteosarcoma.
    Gender: Female
    Age: 17
    Location: Lower leg
    Stage: Localised
    Shit, if I was her I wouldn’t be sulking. Her stats are awesome. Hasn’t she googled them? Doesn’t she know how lucky she is?
    Suck it up
, I want to say.
You’ll be home soon. Play your crappy music and count down the days
.
    But the song she’s playing now is more hip-hop than girly-pop. I push my IV pole closer, hoping to make outthe lyrics. With one ear pressed to the wall, I keep check on my round window, not wanting to give anyone the wrong idea. Nurses walk indifferently past, as does a guy with a hat. He’s younger than the typical visitor. He’s carrying a helium balloon with a small white bear.
    I hear him enter Room 2. He walks to the window side of her bed, I think. I can’t understand all of his words. They come less often than the girl’s, whose voice sounds lighter than ever, as bubbly as soft drink. I wonder what he says to make this happen.
    ‘Gross, take it off,’ she laughs, and I guess he’s doing what all dickheads have done before him: using a cardboard bedpan as a hat. It’s so obvious, I can’t believe she falls for it.
    He recites tomorrow’s menu options from the blue card, and helps her tick the boxes. I hear him describe a party she missed, and how Shay and Chloe had asked about her.
    ‘Don’t tell them—’
    ‘I didn’t.’
    ‘Good. I’ll be out of here soon.’
    ‘What’s that?’ His voice is nearer to our wall. I imagine him touching the lump beneath her collarbone.
    ‘It’s a port.’
    ‘Freaky. Does it hurt?’
    ‘No. Yeah.’
    ‘Will it leave a scar?’
    It’s ages before she cries. I hear each gasp and each long interval between.
    ‘Hey … Hey. You said you’ll be fixed soon, yeah?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘So don’t cry.’
    He leaves soon after. When he cruises past my door, his brow is crinkled in a way that reminds me of my brother Evan, keen to be elsewhere.
    Whir, drip, hum
, my room says.
    Room 2 says nothing. Her silence is sadder than ever and it pulls me in.
    I crouch down and knock on our wall. How else can I speak to her?
    I knock three times. My knuckles say,
Go on—put some music on. Put it on repeat, if you want. I can handle it
.
    But I’m left unanswered.
    ‘What are you doing, Zac?’ Nina’s beside me.
    ‘I dropped a … Q.’
    ‘And how does a Q sound?’ The clip in Nina’s hair is a possum. Or perhaps a quokka. It seems to be smirking too.
    When I stand, I bang my head on the IV pump.
    ‘I’ve got your meds.’ She rattles the container. ‘But perhaps you need something … stronger?’
    I’m lightheaded when I say, ‘Go tell the newbie to play Lady Gaga.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because I don’t know Morse code and my message got lost in translation.’
    Nina sizes me up. ‘I never picked you as a Gaga guy.’
    ‘I know it’s not a standard request,’ I say, flashingthe grin that inexplicably works on her. ‘Just once. For me?’
    I spy the diary beside my bed, fling it open and tear out a blank page. I write:
    Play Gaga
.
    I INSIST!
    (Really!)
    I wonder if capitals are too much. Or the exclamation marks. I consider drawing a smiley face to offset any traces of sarcasm.
    ‘Why don’t you download Lady Gaga from iTunes?’
    ‘I
don’t want to hear Gaga,’ I whisper, pointing to the wall. ‘I want
her
to hear Gaga.’
    Nina folds the page carefully. ‘As you wish, Zac. Take your pills, huh?’
    Nina pockets the note then washes her hands for the compulsory thirty seconds. It feels more like sixty.
    ‘Where’s your mum?’
    ‘At the shops buying music.’
    ‘Lady Gaga?’
    I snort. ‘As if.’
    ‘Of course. You’re okay then? On your own?’
    ‘Definitely.’ I nod and she leaves, both of us grinning.
    Mum’s got a good snore happening, the way she always has at 3 a.m. One of these mornings I should record heras proof. She reckons she