8 years old

"Lena, I'm not going to let you leave me." Connor whispered quietly, biting his bottom lip.

I glanced over at him, my tears clouding my vision and making it hard for me to make out much other than the outline of my best friend. "Connor, I think this is something you may not have control over."

The look on his face told me that my response had not been the correct one.

13 years old

I ran and jumped into his arms and he held me close, not bothering to pretend to shrug me off and pretend to be cool and act like he didn't need his best friend the way he once would have.

He touched the short hair fringing from my ball cap. "It's growing back." He observed, almost like he couldn't believe it-like he didn't want to get his hopes up.

I nodded. "It's gone."

"For good?"

I nodded in response, a wide grin stretching across my face.

16 years old

"You know, she was right!" He shouted back, anger dripping from his words. "You really are just jealous."

"Of what? Of her dating you?" I asked, my words drenched with venom. "God, Connor. I knew you were full of yourself but this is low, even for you. Has she brainwashed you into a pathetic, egotistical, superficial, jackass like all of the others?" I asked, my upper lip curling in disgust at the person standing before me, towering over me with anger blackened eyes. I didn't recognize this person. My best friend was gone-had been gone since he got involved with the head cheerleader and he became football star and his friendship to me had become second.

"No, she didn't brainwash me, Elena. She just allowed me to see who the true you is. I should thank her."

I shook my head, not even able to be entirely pissed that he spoke to me this way.

"I cannot believe you're able to speak to me this way. Eight year old Connor would have killed you."

"Well, eight year old Connor had a best friend who was dying. Last I checked, Alec wasn't dying."

And that was a slap to the face.

I took a step back and saw the way his eyes lost a fraction of the fury, regret taking its place. "Look, El-" He started and I cut him off.

"Well, next time, I'll tell 8 year old Elena not to care about what 8 year old Connor wants. I'll let her know it is alright to not live through five years of hell for someone who wouldn't be there. I'll tell her she's allowed to die."

His face paled. "Len, I didn't mea-"

"Leave me alone, Connor. Just... don't. Leave me alone." I shrugged, laughing pathetically before walking away from him.

18 years old

I stared at the doctor, trying to figure out what he was trying to say, because honestly, it wasn't clicking.

His tone; the way he looked at me.

"Need...compatible bone marrow...donor. Inform...parents. Fill...forms. Need...Soon."

I heard a few words here and there, the bone marrow donor the only thing sticking. Of course, we had already had someone tested when he was eight, under his insistence. But I refused to ask that person for the thing to save my life. And since the chances of me rejecting the transplant were extraordinarily high, I didn't want to take the chance.

Not when the outcome was the same either way.