My life had reached its highest point. I had no way of knowing that as soon as Mom walked in, the prime of my life was over. It had lasted about eight hours.
INT. MY BEDROOM — DAY
GREG is sitting on his bed. He has just gotten home from school and is trying to read A Tale of Two Cities for class, but it is difficult for him to maintain focus, because inside his pants he has AN INEXPLICABLE BONER. An image of some BOOBS on GREG’S LAPTOP, open nearby, is not helping things. There is a KNOCK at the door.
MOM
offscreen
Greg? Honey? Can I come in and talk to you?
GREG
quietly
Fuck fuck fuck
MOM
entering room as GREG conspicuously shuts his computer
Honey, how are you doing.
MOM squats down on the floor in front of the bed with her arms folded. Her eyebrows are scrunched, she has a crease in her forehead, and she is staring Greg in the eyes without blinking. These are all reliable signs that she is about to ask Greg to do SOMETHING ANNOYING.
GREG’S INEXPLICABLE BONER is in full retreat.
MOM
again
Honey? Are you doing OK?
GREG
What?
MOM
after a long silence
I have some really sad news for you, honey. I’m so sorry.
CLOSE-UP of Greg’s confused face as he considers what this news might be. DAD isn’t home. Maybe the university fired him? For weirdness? Can you get fired for weirdness? Or maybe all along Dad has led a secret double life as a CRIMINAL MASTERMIND? And now he’s been discovered, and the family has to flee to an undisclosed ISLAND in the Caribbean? Where they will live in a little hut with a rusty tin roof and AN ACTUAL GOAT? And will there be LOCAL GIRLS with coconut halves on their boobs and skirts made of foliage? Or is that Hawaii? Greg is mistakenly thinking of Hawaii.
GREG
OK.
MOM
I just got off the phone with Denise Kushner. Rachel’s mom? Do you know Denise?
GREG
Not really.
MOM
But you’re friends with Rachel.
GREG
Sort of.
MOM
You two had kind of a thing, right? She was your girlfriend?
GREG
feeling uneasy
That was like six years ago.
MOM
Honey, Rachel has been diagnosed with leukemia. Denise just found out.
GREG
Oh.
after a short silence, stupidly
Is that serious?
MOM
now starting to cry a little bit
Oh, honey. They don’t know. They’re doing tests, and they’re gonna do all they can. But they just don’t know.
leaning forward
Sweetie, I’m so sorry about this. It’s really not fair. It’s not fair.
GREG
sounding even more like an idiot
Uh . . . it sucks.
MOM
You’re right. You’re absolutely right. It does suck.
passionately, and also bizarrely, because parents don’t say that things suck
It does suck. It really, really
sucks.
GREG
still struggling to find something appropriate to say, and failing
This, uh, just sucks . . . really bad.
maybe if he keeps talking, he will say something that is not stupid?
It sucks so hard.
Jesus.
Man.
MOM
breaking down
It sucks. You’re right. It just really sucks so hard. Greg. Oh my poor baby. It sucks so very much.
GREG, feeling just insanely awkward, gets off the bed and on the floor and tries to hug his MOM, who is rolling back and forth on the balls of her feet, crying. They SQUAT-HUG for a while.
CLOSE-UP of Greg’s confused and kind of blank face; obviously he’s upset, but actually the really upsetting thing is that he’s not as sad as his mom—not even close—and he feels guilty and sort of resentful about this. Does Mom even know Rachel that well? No. Why is Mom FREAKING OUT SO MUCH about this? Although, at the same time, why isn’t Greg freaking out more? Is Greg a bad person for not needing to cry about this? Greg has a premonition that this is going to turn into some REALLY ANNOYING, TIME-CONSUMING THING.
MOM
finally crying less
Sweetie, Rachel is going to need her friends now more than ever.
GREG
uhhh
MOM
again, forcefully
Now more than ever. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have a choice. It’s a mitzvah.
“Mitzvah” is Hebrew for “colossal pain in the ass.”
GREG
umm
MOM
The more time you spend with her, just, you know, the more difference you can make in her life.
GREG
Huh.
MOM
It sucks. But you have to be strong. You have to be a good friend.
It definitely sucked. What the hell was I supposed to do? How would it make things better if I were to call up and finally offer to hang out? What would I even say? “Hey, I heard you got leukemia. Sounds like you need an emergency prescription . . . for Greg-acil.” I didn’t know, for starters, what leukemia was. I reopened my computer.
That was when, for a second or two, Mom and I were looking at boobs.
MOM
disgusted
Ugh, Greg.
GREG
How did those get there?!
MOM
Let me ask you—do you actually like looking at those? They look so fake.
GREG
You know what this is? They, uh, have these new pop-up ads on Facebook, and they’re basically just porn–they just appear randomly sometimes—
MOM
Real breasts do not look like water balloons.
GREG
It’s an ad.
MOM
Greg, I’m not stupid.
So it turns out leukemia is cancer of the blood cells. It’s the most common kind of cancer that teenagers get, although the specific kind Rachel had—acute myelogenous leukemia—is not the normal kind for teens. “Acute” means that the leukemia basically came out of nowhere and is growing really quickly, and “myelogenous” has to do with bone marrow. Essentially, Rachel’s blood and bone marrow were being invaded by aggressive, fast-moving cancer cells. I was picturing her in my mind, with her big teeth and frizzy hair, under this invisible microscopic attack, with all these screwed-up things floating around in her veins. Now I actually was getting really upset. But instead of crying, I sort of wanted to throw up.
GREG
Does everyone know about this?
MOM
I think Rachel’s family is keeping it pretty secret, for now.
GREG
alarmed