I jolted awake as the car hit a bump, blinking groggily. It took me a second to remember where I was — oh yeah, Nathan's surprise trip. God, how long had I been out?

The trees outside were a green blur. I'd been half awake for the last bit, drifting in and out. Comfy, though, curled up in the passenger seat with Nathan's jacket as a makeshift pillow.

The car slowed, gravel crunching under the tyres. Nathan's voice was soft. "We're here."

I sat up, stretching, peering out the window, trying to figure out where 'here' was. Then it hit me.

"No way," I breathed.

The faded sign, the scruffy car park, those yellow buildings... It was the dog shelter. The one where Nathan and I volunteered back when we were fourteen.

Memories flooded back. The excited barking when we would arrive. That time, Nathan was soaked with a hose by a playful lab that had stolen it from him. The warm fuzzy feeling when a dog we'd helped found their forever home.

I turned to him, grinning like an idiot. "You brought me here?"

He nodded, looking all shy and sweet. "Thought you might want to see some old friends."

How he looked at me made my stomach do this weird flip. His eyes were soft, full of... something. It's best friend stuff, obviously—just that.

But still. Butterflies, you know? Which was stupid because we were just friends. Always have been. And with everything going on... well.

It's a bit late for that.

I pushed those thoughts away. This was Nathan being Nathan — knowing exactly what I needed. A bit of joy. Some furry cuddles. Unconditional love, like only dogs can give.

"Thanks," I said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "It's perfect."

His cheeks went pink, and he looked away quickly and cleared his throat. "Right then. Let's see if old Rufus is still bossing everyone about, yeah?"

I laughed, already feeling lighter than I had in ages. Trust Nathan to know just what I needed.

We climbed out of the car, stretching our legs after the long drive. The familiar smell of the shelter hit me — a mix of dog food, disinfectant, and that unmistakable wet dog scent. It was oddly comforting.

"Come on," Nathan said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the entrance. My heart did that stupid fluttery thing again. I told it to knock it off.

The reception area looked the same—the same faded posters of happy dogs, the same wonky desk with the ancient computer. Even the potted plant in the corner looked identical, though I was sure it had to be different by now.

A woman I didn't recognise looked up as we entered. "Can I help you?"

"Hi," Nathan began, flashing his charming smile. We used to volunteer here a couple of years back. Would it be possible for us to say hi to some of the dogs?"

The woman — her name tag said 'Jenny' — hesitated. "We don't usually allow visitors without appointments..."

I stepped forward this time. "Please? We won't be any trouble. We know the drill — we volunteered here for months. You can ask Maggie about us if she's still around."

Jenny's eyes lit up. "Oh, you know Maggie? She's just in the back. Let me go grab her."

She disappeared through a door, and I turned to Nathan with a smile. "Maggie's still here! I bet she'll remember us."

Before Nathan could reply, the door burst open, and there was Maggie, who looked exactly as I remembered her. Grey hair in a messy bun, glasses perched on her nose, and a massive smile.

"Beth! Nathan!" she cried, rushing over to hug us both. "Oh, it's so good to see you kids! I suppose you're not really kids anymore, are you?"

I laughed, hugging her back. "It's good to see you, too. We were hoping we could visit some of the dogs?"

Maggie beamed. "Of course, of course! Most of the ones from when you were here last have been adopted, but we've got plenty of new faces for you to meet. Come on back!"

She led us to the kennels, chattering away about all the changes since we'd last been here: a new play area, improved medical facilities, and more staff. It was good to hear the shelter was doing well.

The noise hit us when we entered the kennel area: barking, whining, and the occasional howl. It was chaos, but the good kind—the excited kind.

"Right," Maggie said, "who do you want to meet first? We've got a lovely new litter of puppies, or there's old Buster — he's been here a while, could use some company."

Nathan and I looked at each other. "Puppies," we said in unison.

Maggie chuckled. "Puppies it is. Follow me."

She led us to a large pen in the corner. Inside, a mass of wriggling fur balls tumbled over each other, yipping and playing.

"These little ones came in last week," Maggie explained, opening the gate. "Their mum was a stray. She's being looked after in our medical wing but doing much better."

We stepped inside and were immediately swarmed. I dropped to my knees, laughing as tiny paws scrambled to climb on my legs.

"Hello, little ones," I cooed, scooping up the nearest puppy. It was a shabby little thing, all big eyes and floppy ears. It immediately started licking my face, its tail wagging so hard that its whole body shook.

I looked up to see Nathan with two puppies in his arms, a third trying to climb up his leg. The expression on his face... I'd never seen him look so happy. So at peace.

For a moment, I forgot about everything else. The cancer, the treatments, the ticking clock hanging over my head. All that existed at this moment were puppies, laughter, and Nathan's smile.

We spent ages playing with them until they tired themselves out and fell asleep in a pile. As we stood to leave, I caught Nathan looking at me.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head, smiling. "Nothing. Just... it's good to see you laugh like that again."

I didn't know how to respond, so I bumped his shoulder with mine and headed out.

Maggie was waiting for us. "Ready to meet some of our older residents?"

We nodded, following her down the row of kennels. Each one held a different dog, some barking excitedly, others watching us with wary eyes.

"This is Buster," Maggie said, stopping in front of a kennel. Inside was a large, shaggy dog with a greying muzzle. "He's been here for almost a year now. People tend to overlook the older dogs, you know."

I knelt by the kennel door, holding out my hand. Buster sniffed it cautiously, then gave it a gentle lick.

"Hey there, big guy," I said softly. "Want to come out for a bit?"

Maggie opened the kennel, and Buster padded out slowly. He sat down before me, his tail thumping against the floor.

I scratched behind his ears, and his eyes closed. "Good boy," I murmured.

Nathan joined us, kneeling beside me. "He's lovely," he said, reaching out to pet Buster's back.

We spent the next few hours moving from kennel to kennel and giving each dog some attention. Some were bouncy and playful, others calm and gentle. Each one had its own personality and story.

As we played with a particularly energetic Collie in the outdoor area, I wished I could adopt them all and give them the homes they deserved.

"I wish I could take them all home," I told Nathan as we watched the Collie chase after a tennis ball.

He nodded. "Yeah, me too. Maybe we could come back and volunteer again? If you're up for it, I mean."

The unspoken 'if you're well enough' hung between us. I pushed it aside, focusing on the here and now.

"I'd like that," I said. "It'd be nice to have something to look forward to each week."

Nathan smiled, throwing the ball again. "It's a date then."

My heart did that stupid flutter again at the word 'date', even though I knew he didn't mean it like that. Stupid heart. Stupid feelings.

But as I watched Nathan laugh and play with the dog, I couldn't help but feel grateful. For this day, for these moments, for him. Whatever time I had left, I was glad he was here to share it with me.

✯¸.•'*¨'*•✿•*'¨*'•.¸✯

I felt my stomach growl as the sun started to dip in the sky. I hadn't realised how hungry I was until now. Nathan must've heard it, too, because he glanced over with a grin.

"Time to feed the beast, huh?"

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Shut up. But yeah, I'm starving."

We said our goodbyes to the dogs, promising Buster and the others we'd return soon. As we headed towards the exit, Maggie caught up with us.

"Leaving already?" she asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"Yeah, we should get going," Nathan said. "But this was great. Thanks for letting us be here."

Maggie beamed at us. "Oh, it was my pleasure! The dogs loved having you here. You should come back soon — we have a charity event for the kennel at the end of the year. You two should come!"

My heart sank. End of the year. Christmas. I wouldn't be here. But Maggie was looking at us with such hope, such excitement. For once, I didn't want someone to know. I didn't want to see that pity in her eyes; I didn't want her to remember me as 'that poor girl with cancer'. I wanted her to remember me as I used to be — the enthusiastic volunteer.

So I smiled. "Of course," I lied. "Wouldn't miss it."

We waved goodbye and headed out to the car. As Nathan pulled out of the parking lot, I felt a lump in my throat. It hit me suddenly — I will never see this place again one day. Never see Maggie, or the dogs.

Nathan must have sensed my mood shift. He reached over and squeezed my hand. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He didn't push it; he just turned on the radio and let me sit with my thoughts.

We drove for a bit before pulling into a drive-thru. Nathan ordered a bunch of stuff — way more than we could eat. When I raised an eyebrow at him, he just shrugged.

"Gotta keep your strength up, right?"

We found a quiet spot to park and eat. We sat in silence for a while, munching on burgers and fries. It was nice, just being together without having to talk.

Finally, Nathan broke the silence. "So... how are you doing? Really?"

I sighed, playing with a chip. "I don't know. Today was great; it really was. But..."

"But it also reminded you of what you're going to miss," Nathan finished softly.

I nodded, feeling tears prick in my eyes. "Yeah. God, Nathan, I don't want to die. There's so much I haven't done yet."

He put down his food and turned to face me fully. "Then let's do it. All of it. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go — I'm here. We'll make it happen."

I looked at him, this boy who'd been my best friend for so long. Who was promising to stand by me till the end. It was too much. The tears spilled over.

Nathan didn't hesitate. He pulled me into a hug, awkwardly placed over the centre console but comforting nonetheless. I buried my face in his shoulder and let myself cry.

When I finally pulled back, wiping my eyes, Nathan didn't let go completely. He kept his hands on my shoulders, looking at me intently.

"I mean it, Beth. Whatever you need, I'm here. Always."

I nodded, managing a watery smile. "I know. Thank you."

We finished our food in a more subdued mood, but not an uncomfortable one. As we neared my house, I felt a weird mix of emotions: sad that the day was ending, grateful for the memories we'd made, and scared of what was to come.

Nathan pulled up in front of my driveway, got out, and came around to open my door.

Always a gentleman.

As I climbed out, he surprised me by pulling me into another hug.

This one was different from the one in the car. Longer, for one thing. And... I don't know. It's more intense, somehow. I could feel his heart beating and smell his familiar scent. It made my heart race.

When we finally pulled back, we didn't let go completely. We just stood there, looking at each other. There was something in his eyes I couldn't quite read. Or maybe I could, but I was too scared to acknowledge it.

The moment stretched on, neither of us moving. I felt hot and cold all at once, my skin tingling where Nathan's hands rested on my waist. Was this...? Did he...? Did I...?

Suddenly, as if realising what was happening, we both stepped back. Nathan cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. I fiddled with the strap of my bag, unsure where to look.

"So, uhm," Nathan said, his voice a bit higher than usual, "I'll see you later, yeah?"

I nodded, probably a bit too enthusiastically. "Yeah! Yes. Later. Definitely."

We waved awkwardly as he got back in his car. I stood there watching as he drove off, my heart still pounding.

As I turned to go inside, I realised I felt weird. Shaky. Breathless. For a moment, panic set in. Was this the cancer? Was something wrong?

But as I replayed the moment with Nathan, I knew. This wasn't the cancer. This was something else entirely. Something I'd been trying to ignore for a long time.

I was in love with my best friend.

And I was dying.

Well, shit.