Author: Kya Gleason – First Place Junior Division 2025
Grade 7 (DeTour Arts and Technology Academy) Sponsor: Jennifer Livingston
I chain my bike to the pole, unplugging the earbuds of my Walkman. Sadly, the batteries died before the best part of the album. I wonder if my dear mother will get me batteries for my birthday this year, but I push the thought aside. She already does enough by protecting us from that narcissistic coward, Theo. I don’t dare call him my father, even in my head, even if my mother has been “dating” him for six months now. Love is a waste of time, if you can even call it that. It is more like a futile effort that no matter how hard you try, you can’t ever make a lasting imprint on someone. No, I don’t believe in love.
I look around at the blizzarding weather, typical for winter. The diner that my brain brought me to waves warmly at me. I love this place; no matter how much I zone out, I somehow end up here. Maybe it is because the waitresses are nice, or maybe it is just the fact that the food is cheap. Cheap enough that it is worth more than Theo’s mush.
I walk into the diner; it had just opened a few years ago, but the dead vibe that was once trendy is still in the air. But this is the 90s; who cares for teased hair or neon colors? Or, that is what the popular girls say anyway. Personally, I really care about scenery, but this place is different. I don’t think that, if I had a choice, I would ever, in a million years, leave this place. It feels safe, special really. Caught in thought, I hardly realize I enter the diner, nor do I remember taking a seat.
“The regula’?” says Jenny, a tired looking, but energetic waitress with a Midwestern accent.
“It is fine, Jenny. I’m just here to study.” I tell her. I really could go for a smoothie, and I’d bet a whole dozen dollars that she sees it in my eyes.
“Oll korrect,” she says, and I catch her wink as she turns and walks away. I enjoy how she knows the most random trivia. I remember the day she told me about “Oll korrect”, how it was used back in the day to fool the young and uneducated. I remember how she told me it was really the only old slang that still remains today. Sometimes I wonder how I, or even she, can remember these things.
I take my books out of my backpack. My little sister gave up her own Christmas gift so that I could have one. She knew just how much it meant to me to fit in. Blend in with the other kids. Oh, the brutal things that I have seen come out of that high school. Umbridge High… What a nasty name. Though it is suiting, really. The thought dawns on me that I am here to study, not gaze into space, let alone think of that nasty high school. It is Friday, a pleasant time where I can be free. For about two hours after school.
I look up, seeing Jenny coming back with an orange sherbet shake. My favorite! She grinned when she saw the look on my face. “On the house,” she announces. What an angel.
* * *
It was only a small ten minutes after Jenny walked away that the metal bell dings, meaning someone has entered the diner. Curiosity gets the better of me, as it always does. I look up from my shake and my studies, which I had just been staring at. A broad-shouldered boy walks in. By the looks of it, he is a year older than me, so 12th grade, probably. Why do I care so much about him?
I look back down at my textbook, silently scolding myself for not paying attention to my studies. World studies is kicking my butt. Ok… The Soviet Union’s downfall was in 1991; yeah… I can remember that. Three years ago. Just three. I can’t control myself; I look up again. He is seated at the booth across the aisle, looking down at the menu. I steal a few more glances at him before I finally stop trying to convince myself he isn’t cute. He looks Scandinavian, with a shaggy wolf cut that perfectly suits him. Norwegian maybe. He looks like a Viking—no, he looks like a Norse god, a strong one too. Dang…
* * *
I find myself “studying” in the diner until six. That means I must’ve watched him for about three hours. He seems to have something on his mind because all he does is stare at something and nibble at his food. I hate him. He stirs a feeling inside of me that is… odd to say the least. A feeling of numbness in my stomach washes over me every time I steal a glance at him. What is this? What am I feeling? I can’t take this anymore, so I stuff my textbook into my bag and leave the diner. As I ride my bike, I silently pray that Theo doesn’t end up knocking my head off for being half an hour late.
* * *
“Thirty minutes late, Erika!” Theo yells when I walk through the door of my house.
“What is the big deal? It is only half an hour. It isn’t like I was out being a criminal with my friends or anything. I don’t even have friends.” I snap back at Theo.
“You are grounded! Do you know how worried sick your mother and I were?” As if. Now he is just telling blatant lies to get under my skin. And how can I possibly be grounded? It isn’t like I do sports or have a device he can take away. I don’t even have a reason to go outside. Well, except school.
I watch my younger stepsister, Astrid, cower behind our mother. Her beautiful brown hair and green eyes are a trait from Theo. She is gorgeous, even though she is Theo’s daughter. Even though I know that never, in a million years, would she stand up for me against her father. Her presence is comforting, even though the wisp of a child hardly speaks. But either way, she is an angel.
“Ok,” I finally tell Theo, “I am going to my room,” then walk away. I almost get my hopes up as I walk to my room that he won’t stop me, but he grabs my wrist.
“I didn’t say you were excused.” His tone is cold and unforgiving.
“Oh, sorry, your highness. I must’ve forgotten to treat you like royalty.” I bark back snidely. My dear mother gasps as Theo slaps me on the face. Never in a million years would I say Theo was nice, but he isn’t abusive either. I mean, I deserved that. I shouldn’t have risked that. I gingerly take his hand off my wrist and say, in the sweetest voice I can, “Sorry.”
“One of these days, Erika, sorry isn’t going to cut it.” He warns.
I gently close the door to my room after walking in. I don’t understand his problem. I mean, it was only half an hour. But whatever, it isn’t like it will affect me for the rest of my life, right?
* * *
When I walk into the diner the next day, Saturday, I am greeted by a warm smile from Jenny. I readjust the books in my arms and walk back to my regular table; little did I know, the booth just across from me was again taken up by that utterly gorgeous guy. I flinch slightly when he suddenly looks up and says, “What dumb luck,” with a smile on his face, “aren’t you that girl that was in here just last night?”
“I—yeah. My name is Erika. Erika Olsen,” I say quickly.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he says with a smirk on his face. “Do you want to study with me?” Butterflies dance in my stomach. I just stand there with that dumbfounded look on my face, wishing I could be swallowed by the floor and never exist again. Study with him? He called me pretty? This has to be a joke, some kind of trick. Where are the cameras?
I manage to stutter out a thanks and sit down. How could I possibly focus when there is the most handsome guy I had ever laid eyes on right in front of me? “I didn’t catch your name,” I tell him; it is just about the only thing I can think to say.
“My name is Balder.” Balder is the name of the Norse god, so attractive that light shines from him. His parents were right to name him that. He is so… cool and collected. I can’t seem to get the fact out of my head that he called me pretty. I look out the window, just to escape his ocean blue eyes and magnificent dark brown hair, so rare here in Norway. Snap out of it!
“That… suits you.”
“Thanks,” he says. God, I feel so awkward. What am I supposed to do?
“So… where do you study? I mean, College or high school?”
“Umbridge high,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Perfect. He goes to my school? This man is utterly perfect. Every new feature I learn about him just makes him seem impossibly better. He stirs a weird feeling inside me.
“I go there too,” I mutter, “I have never seen you around on campus before, are you a transfer?”
He lets out a laugh. “Have you really not seen me before?”
I look at him, a puzzled expression on my face. “No?”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyways,” that same smile remains on his face. I take a moment to recognize every feature and still don’t know who he is. I mean, there are plenty of people at my school named Balder. Who does he think he is?
“No, I want to know who the guy I have a crush on actually is.” The words just slip, I can feel heat rush up to my face as he chuckles.
“Woods. Balder Woods.” My heart drops, my smile faltering. The name of the most popular guy at my school. I can tell by the smirk on his face that he knows that I wasn’t expecting that. But I can’t help but think he did look like the Norse god.
“I—sorry,” I get up to leave. But he grabs my wrist.
“Wait, Erika.”
I turned back to him. What could he possibly say to make me stay? “I have had my eye on you for some time now…” It takes all the power in me not to gasp as he says that. How could that be true? I want to tell him to stop. To stop twisting the truth. Though when I search his face, I see no signs of deception.
“I—” I can’t even speak. I want to tell him that even when I didn’t know who he was, I still liked him. I want to tell him I want to stay. But he sees the words in my eyes.
He pulls me back down on the booth, and from then on, I wasn’t a nobody. I was Balder Woods’ girlfriend.
* * *
We walk down the hall, his hand clutching mine, when he says “I found a place we can go, Eri.”
“Oh! What is it?” I ask excitedly, over the past week he has taken me to fancy places, like Italian restaurants, but also more casual places. Yesterday, we had a picnic by the creek.
“A museum,” he says with a grin, that already would have been amazing. He knows how much I love art. “In Greece.”
I gasp, “Gr-Greece?! Balder! You know better than that, it is too expensive and—”
“You know I have money, Erika.”
“But you don’t have to spend it on me!” I almost yell at him, why does he have to go to the end of the Earth for me? “Cancel the trip. We can just go to the one in Oslo—”
“No,” he says firmly. I can’t believe him!
“Please!”
“Fine,” he sighs, “but don’t long for it when I’m gone…” I laugh softly, but the thought clogs my head. Gone? What does he mean gone? I push the thought away and think about getting to my next class, psychology. Balder always teased me about wanting to study that instead of doing a more fun elective, like art, but I think it is a fascinating subject. I love the thought of being able to read a person like a book just by what they are doing, or just understanding the human mind. Humans are so complicated…
As I open my locker to grab my psychology book, the late bell rings. Dang, give me a break! Psychology is a whole floor away from my locker! I sigh and walk off.
* * *
As I put my things back in my locker and prepare to walk home with Balder, he coughs. Now that I think about it, he has been acting odd, shortness of breath and such… fatigue. Or maybe it is just my inner psychology teacher talking.
* * *
I sit in my room, trying to focus on homework but I can’t help but think about my boyfriend. I miss him, and it is killing me inside. What if I am falling in love with someone who is playing me like cards? I check my phone for the millionth time today, he hasn’t responded to any of my texts. I sigh and lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, hoping he would just check his phone.
* * *
I pick up my phone again, a lump forming in my throat as I see that he hasn’t responded yet. I wonder what he is doing, or if he is thinking about me too. It is hard to believe we have only been dating for a week and he is already ghosting me. I feel restless and anxious just wanting to see or talk to him. I can’t help but feel like we are drifting apart, and it scares me. What if he doesn’t like me anymore? I look out my window, the setting sun casts an orange glow around my room. I feel a pang of sadness knowing I could be out of my room and spending time with him right now.
I think about the previous day, and realize that he really had been acting strangely. For a moderately muscular guy, he seemed exhausted just from walking around. Maybe it is just a cold or something, but I can’t help but wonder if it is serious. I rack my brain, trying to recall if there are any details to give me a clue about what is going on with him. My mind races with thoughts when it dawns on me that he has been avoiding me. He hasn’t been answering my calls or texts, and he is hardly at school. I feel dread and frustration wash over me as I wonder what is going on.
* * *
As I walk down the street after a fight with Theo, I try to clear my head with the fresh air. But my mind keeps wandering back to Balder and I can’t help but feel something is wrong with him. I look up and my heart skips a beat as I see the only person that has been on my mind. I freeze in place as I stare at him. He looks tired and pale, as he drags himself down the street. I feel a pang of concern and wonder as I take in his appearance. I am unsure what to say, or do. And a mixture of emotions washes over me in a nauseous swirl. Anger, worry, sadness and… Love. I push that lovey feeling away as I have the feeling to yell at him.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” My voice is shaky and teary.
He sighs and looks away, guilt etched across his face. He runs a hand through his hair that— I hadn’t noticed thinned. He takes a deep breath before speaking. “I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Tell me what.” My voice has an unintentional bite and I almost want to take my words back.
“Erika, I don’t want to hurt you…”
“What is hurting me is that you are keeping secrets from me! What is wrong with you?!”
“I’M DYING! I’m dying. I’m dying, Erika. I have cancer. I have adenocarcinoma. It… snuck up on me and it is too late.” My face pales and the words echo in my head. Dying…? “I have known since four weeks ago. When the coughing started. I know I should have told you, and I’m sorry. But I didn’t want to burden you with it. I didn’t want you to feel guilty over something that wasn’t your fault.”
I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me as the reality of his words settle in. I stare at him, knees buckling, my heart breaking into a million pieces as I try to process it. Tears stream down his face as he says, “I’m sorry Erika…” He pulls me into a weak embrace as he sobs into my shoulder. I bury my face in his chest as tears fall down my own face. The person that I like, no, the person I love is dying. Dying.
* * *
Summer break begins, and the days blur together as we spend every moment we can together. I refuse to tell him, but it breaks my heart that he would rather spend his time with me rather than his family. We try to make the most of the time we have left together, by going to picnics, to the park, or fishing by the lake.
As days turn into weeks, I can see the toll his disease is taking on Balder. Every day, he gets weaker and more frail. His once muscular body hardly able to get out of bed, but I can tell he is trying his best to hide it from me. We spend countless nights watching movies and one day we watch the stars.
“I believe that when I die, I will go up there. Maybe I am one of the many bright people in history to be a star. To watch over the world for millions of years to come…” He gazes up at the sky with a peaceful, unafraid look on his face. Despite his weak state, there is a sparkle in his eyes as he talks about the stars. Before he told me this, I thought that when people die, they simply cease to exist, but his view is so much more beautiful… “I think there is something beyond this life, something more. And maybe I will find it when I die.”
* * *
The weeks turn into months; Balder’s condition continues to deteriorate. He is confined to a hospital bed, surrounded by machines that beep and whir constantly. He has lost so much weight, and it breaks my heart to see him like this. I so dearly miss his once-strong body… I push the thought away. This is meant to happen, and maybe in another life, I will meet him again.
As I sit by his bedside, holding his frail hand in mine, I can feel tears well up in my eyes. He looks so small and vulnerable, a far cry from the strong, confident man I met that day in the diner. But despite his weakened state, he still manages to smile at me, still tries to reassure me that everything will be okay.
“Don’t cry darling. I’m still here.” He weakly squeezes my hand, “Promise me something, Love.” All I can do is look at him and give a small nod. “Promise me that you will continue to find happiness when I am gone. Promise me that you won’t spend your lifetime mourning me…”
He brings my hand to his lips, a gentle kiss against my knuckles. He searches my face, his eyes pleading for me to agree. I take in a deep, shaky breath, trying to hold back tears as I force myself to speak. “I… I promise. I’ll try my best to move on, to find happiness again.”
* * *
I had spent my night at the hospital, in the chair next to Balder’s bed. I wake up the next morning with a stiff neck and a heavy heart. As I slowly open my eyes, I see he is still there, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. I watch him for a few moments, taking in the sight of him. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, almost as though he is simply resting. But I know better, I know that each breath could be his last, that his time is running out.
I watch as he stirs slightly, and soon his eyes flutter open. He looks at me, a small smile on his face. “Good morning, Darling,” he whispers, his voice weak and raspy. Tears flood my eyes as I remember what the doctors told me and him the previous day, that the next would likely be his last. I remember how his family was called to say goodbye. And I finally accept that this is it. His last stand.
As I watch Balder lying there, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath, I can feel the weight of each moment bearing down on me. I know that I am watching him slowly slip away from me. I take his hand in mine, squeezing it tightly, as if I can hold onto him, keep him here with me just for a little bit longer.
His grip on my hand is weak, but he holds it as tightly as he can. His eyes are fixed on mine, filled with a mix of love and resignation. I can’t bring myself to speak, the words getting stuck in my throat. All I can do is hold his hand and look at him and memorize every detail on his face. The way his hair falls over his forehead, the curve of his jaw. I have to stay strong for him, for me.
Not wasting a moment, I wrap my arms around him as gently as I can. I hold him close, trying to memorize the feel of his body against mine. I can feel his heartbeat, weak and slow and I know this is it.
I press my lips against his, kissing him with all that love that I can muster. I pour everything I have into it, every ounce of emotion I have ever felt for him. I want him to know how much he means to me, how much I will miss him… “I love you…” I muster out, something he had always said to me but I had never returned. “I love you…”
His breathing slowly grows shallower, until it finally stops altogether. He lies in my arms, eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his face. He’s gone. His monitor beeps signaling his death, but I don’t pull away, I hold him in my arms until the doctors ask me to leave.
* * *
As the years go by, I make new friends and slowly start to find happiness again. Of course, it isn’t the same kind that I found with Balder, but it is still something. I realize that as life goes on, people come and go, and that there is no point in holding on to forever.
I find comfort in my new friends, in the memories I make with them. While there will always be a part of me that belongs to Balder.
One day, as I am sitting alone in my garden, I find myself gazing up at the stars. And for a moment, I swear I see a bright, shining star that wasn’t there before.
