Chasing Happiness

CHAPTER ONE 

Lexi's POV

I'm completely soaked! Like literally drenched from head to toe. I seriously considered punching him in the face, but I need this job, and I remember how that turned out the last time I let my emotions get the best of me.

I head toward the staff door to see if I can find something to change into because if I can't, I'm in big trouble—pneumonia is nobody's friend.

"Whoa! Is there a pool party going on that I didn't hear about?" Dan jokes as I walk over to his locker. 

"Very funny," I reply, grabbing the towel from his hands and trying to dry off as much as I can.

"Thanks!" 

"You're welcome. You know I can't resist a princess in distress." 

"We both know I'm no princess," I scoff. 

"We can definitely agree on that." 

"Jerk!" I hit his shoulder playfully. 

"I see you more as a knight if we're being real. A pretty and sexy knight though, that's for sure." 

"Period!" I say, and we both burst out laughing. 

"How'd you know?" 

"I saw when Dickly approached you, and you literally looked like there was smoke coming out of your ears after he left. When I saw you going outside in that pouring rain, I just couldn't help myself." 

"Thanks again!" 

"That's why I'm here. Here, you can wear this shirt. You're lucky I always keep one on me." 

"Lifesaver, literally." 

"Superman's got nothing on me." 

I burst out laughing. "Only you can turn a bad situation upside down. What would I do without you?" 

"I have my moments," he says.

"Aren't you supposed to be attending to your tables? Or wait, don't tell me that throwing out the trash took the whole two hours left in our shift."

"Not at all; like I said, I just couldn't help myself." He smiles at me.

"We better head back before Dickly comes after both of us."

"Yeah, you're right." Dan heads back to his tables, and I return to the kitchen.

Two hours later, I'm finally done for the day. Dan drops me off, and in moments like this, I'm grateful to have him in my life. He's a true friend, and those are rare. 

I go to put my key in the lock, careful not to make too much noise because I know Aria should be fast asleep. Just as I insert the key, the door swings open. Panic floods me, and I reach for my pepper spray, instinctively going into attack mode. 

I switch on the lights to find Aria sitting on our second-hand couch, which I got from a garage sale, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Jesus, Aria! You can’t do that! You scared the living crap out of me! I could have seriously hurt you!" 

"You think I don’t know that? Why do you think I stayed far away from the door? I won’t be a victim to any of your so-called defense mechanisms again," she replies.

“Not funny,What are you doing up anyway? It's really late, and you know you need enough rest." 

"So do you, you know" 

"I will rest when I'm sure you are fine." 

"Here, let me help you with that," she says as she helps me out of my coat. 

"Thanks." 

"Hectic day?" 

"You could say that again. Dickly was being a dick again." 

"When is he ever not?" she scoffs. 

"True." 

"Have you had dinner?" 

"Yes, Mom," she replies sarcastically. "You made sure of that."

I do this because I love you too much to let anything happen to you, I say, squishing her cheeks. 

"Stop!" she exclaims, playfully shoving my hands away.

I head to our little kitchen, which is attached to the living room—my own little slice of paradise—to get some water. Our home is a somewhat modest studio apartment since that's all we can afford, but we make do. It's filled with our belongings, mostly Aria's paintings, along with the little art equipment I could afford to buy for her. The kitchen is quite small, with white walls like the rest of the house. It has a cooker, a fridge, and some cupboards, but they do the trick. The living room is typical, though it lacks a few essentials that would make it feel more like a living space. Nevertheless, we’re just grateful we’re not homeless, which is a situation we've almost faced a few times.

I gulp down the water, place the glass back on the counter, and turn around as an unsettling silence envelops the room.

"Aria! What's wrong?" I make my way back to where I left her and find her with tears in her eyes.

"Mana(sis), what's wrong? Are you in pain? Do you need to go to the hospital? Are you okay? Talk to me!" 

She looks up at me, and my heart races even more as she gazes at me with her large brown eyes and quivering lips. 

"Lexi!"

"Yes, talk to me!" 

"Don't freak out, because I'm already freaking out, but... I got a call," she said, stressing the last word. 

"A call? What call? Is everything fine? Did you not sell the painting you had up for sale? Did something happen when I wasn't around?" I said, rambling. 

"Lexi!" she shouted my name. "I got 'THE CALL.'" 

Everything suddenly clicked, and I froze. "You got THE CALL?" 

"I got THE CALL!" 

We just stared at each other for what felt like hours, but I knew it was only a few seconds. Then she broke down completely and jumped into my arms. I couldn't help but let a few stray tears fall as well. 

"Oh my God, oh my God! It's happening! It's finally happening!"

It's finally happening! She repeats after me, her face lighting up with hope.

Suddenly, I can't contain my joy—tears of happiness stream down my face. I usually try my best to stay strong in front of my sister, but this moment is too monumental. After what feels like the longest three-year wait, I’m overwhelmed with the realization that my sister is finally going to get better, and she’ll LIVE!

I jump into her arms, and she hugs me tightly in return. We both wipe away our tears, but this time they're filled with joy and relief. “Oh, Aria, this is absolutely amazing!” I exclaim, my heart soaring.

She nods enthusiastically, her own tears of joy still glistening on her cheeks. 

After a moment of sheer happiness, I take a step back to process it all, feeling hopeful. “So when is the surgery scheduled?”

Her gaze meets mine, and as the warmth in her eyes begins to shift,sadness suddenly takes over her features. When the words come out, they catch me off guard, blending fear with hope.

“A month,”