My 17-Year-Old Son Shaved His Head for His Sick Girlfriend – The Next Day, Her Mother Said, ‘You Need to Come to the Hospital and See What Your Son Did’

The whole drive over, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking against the steering wheel.

***

The automatic doors of the  hospital slid open, and I walked in too fast, my car keys still clenched in my fist.

Diane was already waiting in the corridor, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, when I arrived. She didn’t smile or even say hello.

“Rachel. Come with me.”

I followed her down the hallway, past the nurses’ station, past a cart of folded blankets.

My mouth was dry.

“Diane, please, just tell me. Is Lily okay? Did Aaron say something? What happened?”

“He crossed a line,” she said, not slowing down.

“A line? Diane, my son shaved his head for your daughter. He did it out of love.”

My  friend stopped so suddenly that I almost walked into her. Her eyes were red, but her jaw was set.

“It isn’t just the shaving thing, Rachel. It’s what he did next.”

“Aaron has barely slept in months. He brings her soup. He sits in waiting rooms doing his homework on his lap.”

“Lily is a private girl,” she snapped, her voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “Now the entire oncology floor is talking. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone has a story about my daughter.”

I felt my own temper start to rise, hot and unfamiliar between us.

“You called me as if something terrible had happened. I drove here thinking she was… I don’t even want to say what I was thinking.”

I stepped back, stunned.

“Don’t do that, Diane. Don’t put this on him. He’s a kid trying to love your daughter through the worst thing that’s ever happened to her.”

She looked away, blinking fast.

A cart rattled past. A doctor’s pager beeped somewhere down the hall.

“You don’t understand,” my best friend said, quieter now. “It’s easier if you just see it. I can’t explain it standing here. I tried on the phone, and I sounded insane.”

“Then help me understand on the way. Because I’ve known you for 20 years, and I don’t recognize you right now.”

Diane’s shoulders dropped, just a little.

“For weeks, Rachel. For weeks, I’ve watched him walk in here and make her laugh, eat, and sit up. And I stand at the foot of her bed, and I can’t get her to drink water.”

I stared at her.