Number one Sky Dive. Number two bungee jump. Number three...I listed them in my head. I twisted my hands together behind my back, bunching the fabric of my shirt in one fist, and clenching the bouquet of roses tightly in the other. I shifted from foot to foot as the elevator music sounded around me. My head fell back, resting against the wall, I allowed my eyes to fall shut for a brief moment of consolation. I tried desperately to gather my thoughts but they slipped away. With a resounding ding the elevator came to a jolty stop at the ninth floor, the doors slid open. My eyes snapped open, I took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. I was in another world now. The smells rushed to me and my eyes fluttered, I became dizzy, and had to lean against the wall. I hated the smell of hospitals. Like medication, like disinfectant, like hopelessness and loss, like death. An instant reminder of what was coming. I cringed away from the smell, drifting quickly back in to the elevator. The doors closed. I smacked my forehead with my hands, sending rose petals cascading to the floor. I swallowed my heart that was pounding quickly in my throat and pressed the button for the doors to open again. I clucked my tongue and stepped out of the elevator. I clenched the flowers tighter, set my jaw and walked quickly down the hall.

     I kept my eyes hooded refusing to look anywhere but the floor. My footsteps echoed in my head, they were defining. The numbered rooms rushed past me until I was there. Standing right outside. Number thirty-one eat a lollipop bigger then our heads. My toes scrunched up in my shoes. I rolled my lips in and out of my mouth. I never thought it'd be this hard. I was embarrassed at myself, how could I be so selfish? She needed me. I swallowed hard and walked inside. I see her laying there. My best friend. She looks so little, breakable. Her feet don't even reach the end of the bed. Her hairs skewed across the pillow, her eyes are closed, shifting beneath the lids in peaceful dreams. My heart swells in my chest, beating violently through my ribcage, vibrating every bone in my body, it's the only sound I hear. I wish it was her heartbeat I was hearing, strong, powerful, consistent, invincible. My mind replays her diagnosis, the doctors prediction. I feel sick, my stomach drops straight through rubber of my tennis shoes. Number eighteen hot air balloon ride. I would have run but my feet were glued to the linoleum. Then she opens her eyes and looks right at me. I try a smile, my lips tremble. My palms are hot, I clench and unclench my fists. She holds my gaze until I blink and look away. My eyes flicker over the room focusing on nothing. I don't know what I'm looking for, an answer, an escape, a time machine, a cure. I feel her eyes on me, her gaze is so heavy I can feel my knees buckle.

     "Lynsey." She said excitedly patting the bed, indicating I join her. "You're here." My eyes watered up. I scuffed my shoes on the floor holding up the flowers.

     "Of course I'm here." I whispered wiping my cheeks. I shoved the flowers at her and sat on the side of her bed. She smelled them and grinned at me setting them gently on the night stand.

     "I'm sorry it took me so long to come back." I looked around her room. Her hand slipped over mine and she gave it a little squeeze. I swallowed back the tears that were threatening to fall down my cheeks.

     "I know this is hard for you." She said quietly. "I'm just glad you came." I looked at her and smiled through the tears. "I missed you." My tears were hot on my cheeks, I couldn't stop them. I squeezed her hand.

     "Hard for me?" I asked, shaking my head.

     "I love the roses." She said smiling. I laughed and nodded.

     "Hey, Lily." A voice greeted me. I looked over and smiled weakly at Pete.

     "Hi." I whispered. He pushed away from the door frame and came to sit on the window ledge. He looked different, older then the last time I was here. Sicker. A frown wrinkled my forehead, because I knew he was. I traced the deep, dark circles under his eyes with my gaze. His face was thinner, his skin too pale. He looked fragile.

     "Don't think so hard. Lily." He teased.. His voice was strong and it made me feel a little better. I made a face at him. He only smirked. He seemed alright, but I could see the shadow of remorse in his eyes, behind his mask. He was sad, like I was. He hurt for her too. It wasn't his fault she was sicker then him, that he would live and she wouldn't. It wasn't his fault, but I blamed him. It was stupid, irrational and unfair. I knew it. But I didn't care. His bright eyes held mine for too long and I looked away. Neither of us liked what we saw. I took a deep breath. I could remember perfectly the day the doctor told us that she wasn't going to get better. The same day they told Pete his tumor was benign. The same day we finished our list. The list of things we were going to do in our life. Number forty-seven write a book.

     "When's your operation?" She asked him.

     "Tomorrow."

     "Mine too." I didn't want to hear this. I tried to block them out, but their words cleared my walls.

     "You nervous?" He asked her.

     "No, not really."

     "I'm going to get something to drink." I said abruptly, and too loud. I stood up and rushed towards the door. Footsteps sounded behind me.

     "I'll come with you." Pete said.

     "No." I replied too quickly. The footsteps stopped. I looked back at him. His eyes were sad. A wave of guilt washed over me, overtaking the anger. I hurried out of the room. I couldn't stand him looking at me like that, I couldn't stand looking at him at all. Once I reached the vending machine I pressed the button for cherry coke. I hated cherry coke. It was her favorite. She wouldn't drink it. I didn't care. I turned to walk back to the room. Pete was standing right in front of me. I yelped and jumped back.

     "You scared me." I traced the rim of the coke with a finger.

     "I'm sorry." He replied. I shrugged. Silence. "Are you mad at me?" He asked. I studied ingredients on the back of the can of cola. Number sixty eight skinny dipping.

     "No." I lied.

     "Yes you are." He said. "You won't even look at me." I glared at him.

     "I'm not mad." His eyes swallowed me whole. I took a small step back. "I'm not mad at you." I whispered. I started to walk past him.

     "I wish it was me." He whispered.

     "What?" I stuttered, looking at him.

     "I wish I was sick and she'd be alright." He said. I gritted my teeth but I didn't say anything. "Don't do this, Lily. I can't stand it. Talk to me!"

     "I can't." I said. I knew I was being unfair.

     "What can I do? What do you want?"

     "I want you to be alright!" I struggled to keep my voice controlled. "I want her to be alright. I want the doctors to tell me that they messed up and she's not dying. I never want her to be upset, or sad, or in pain. And I would give anything so she'd never stop smiling." A deep breath. "I want her to die when she's old and wrinkly and fat. Not now, not when we're young. Not when I need her. Not when the world needs her. Not before we go to college, and fall in love and get married. And do everything we want to do. I want us to do everything on the list. It's not supposed to happen now. Not like this." I was crying. I didn't care. "And I want to die first so I never have to live without her." I had to get away. I left him standing there in the hallway, looking helpless and lost. When I returned to the room, she was asleep again. I hugged her, her hair like sunshine and I tried to memorize it. I tried to memorize her heartbeat. If I ever forgot, I would never forgive myself. I left the cherry coke on the night stand, next to the roses. She wouldn't drink it.

One Day Later...

     When I heard my name on the over com, my heart stopped. I held my breath all the way to the office. When I got there my mom rushed over to me. She took my hands in hers. I saw the tears in her eyes.

     "Mom..." I said my voice breaking. She smiled hugely and hugged me tight.

     "She's alright." She told me. "She's alright, everything is going to be fine."

     "What do you mean?"

     "I mean forever, the tumor was benign."

     I don't remember breathing the entire way to the hospital. Everything felt like slow motion. I couldn't run fast enough. And when I reached her room my lungs were burning and screaming. She was laying in her bed and when I came flying through the room her eyes snapped up to meet mine. I was smiling brilliantly, but when I saw her face my breath surged out of my lungs.

     "What's wrong?" I asked. Big tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked at me through her soaked eye lashes.

     "He's gone." She whispered. Her voice was broken, crippled. I frowned sitting on her bed. I hadn't seen her cry since we were six years old. She was the bravest, strongest person I knew. I took her hand carefully, my eyes cautious, confused.

     "What?" I asked. "Who's gone?"

     "Pete." My heart was thumping like crazy in my chest. I thought it was going to tear a whole through my skin and jump right out of me. Number 91 fall in love.

     "Where'd he go?" I asked. I looked around the room, searching for him. She collapsed in to my shoulder. I held her for a long time.

     "He's not coming back." She said. With a shattering ripping sound my heart broke through my chest and left me there. I felt empty. When it left me I wondered if it would was running away, if it would ever come back? I swallowed with difficulty.

     "But you're alright." She made an odd sobbing noise and nodded against my shoulder. I hugged her as tight as I could.

     "It's not fair." She whispered.

     "You're going to be alright?" I asked. She nodded again. "He's dead?" Another broken sob.

     "How?"

     "I don't know. He just..." She buried her face in my shoulder. I couldn't understand her. "This wasn't supposed to happen." I didn't know what to say. "He was supposed to be okay, he was supposed to live and do everything on the list.. .and now..." She didn't finish. My eyes burned and large tears spilled over and streamed quickly down my cheeks. A broken heart. I never knew that it actually hurts, that the pain is tangible. Like a dull, infinite ache eating away at you, until its all you feel. I can't speak, can't move. I feel like I can't do anything but hurt. So I hug her tighter and listen to our heartbeats, and I think of him. It hurts but I remember him, because I never want to forget. And if he's watching me from heaven I hope he remembers me and remembers our list. I'll finish the list for him, for our friendship.

     Number 100 die old.