The Bucket List Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Wed, June 1

  Thur, June 2

  Fri, June 3

  Sat, June 4

  Sun, June 5

  Tue, June 7

  Wed, June 8

  Thur, June 9

  Fri, June 10

  Sat, June 11

  Mon, Jun 13

  Tue, June 14

  Fri, June 17

  Sat, June 18

  Sun, June 19

  Tue, June 21

  Fri, June 24

  Mon, July 4

  Wed, July 6

  Thur, July 7

  Mon, July 11

  Sat, Aug 6

  Thur, Aug 23

  Fri, Aug 24

  Mon, Aug 27

  Wed, Sept 21

  Sat, Sept 24

  Wed, Sept 28

  Six Years Later...

  Author's Note

  More Books by Me

  Find Me Online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Wed, June 1

  Thur, June 2

  Fri, June 3

  Sat, June 4

  Sun, June 5

  Tue, June 7

  Wed, June 8

  Thur, June 9

  Fri, June 10

  Sat, June 11

  Mon, Jun 13

  Tue, June 14

  Fri, June 17

  Sat, June 18

  Sun, June 19

  Tue, June 21

  Fri, June 24

  Mon, July 4

  Wed, July 6

  Thur, July 7

  Mon, July 11

  Sat, Aug 6

  Thur, Aug 23

  Fri, Aug 24

  Mon, Aug 27

  Wed, Sept 21

  Sat, Sept 24

  Wed, Sept 28

  Six Years Later...

  Author's Note

  More Books by Me

  Find Me Online

  The Bucket List:

  Famous Online

  A novel.

  Scarlett Haven

  Copyright © 2017 Scarlett Haven

  http://scarletthaven.wordpress.com

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Dear reader,

  I’m a writer.

  NOT a doctor.

  The medical facts aren’t going to be perfect, because even with a lot of research, how could they be? Every situation is different. Every case. Every patient. Plus, as I said, I don’t have an MD. I wrote this book, wanting to give my character a happy ending. Whether in life, or death. I hope you can over-look medical facts I may have made a mess of. Or any terminology I used incorrectly.

  Happy reading!

  <3 Scarlett

  Wednesday, June 1

  Bucket list.

  I stand on the beach, watching the sun set over the ocean. I’ve never appreciated the various shades of pink, purple, and orange before. Truly, there is nothing like a California sunset.

  A million thoughts run through my head, one of them being I only have six months of sunsets left.

  I hate the C-word.

  Cancer.

  What I hate worse is the timeline. I am nineteen years old, and will never turn twenty. I will forever be a teenager.

  And to think, this time yesterday, my biggest concern was if the barista used coconut milk instead of regular milk.

  Just over a month ago, I became a vegan. I live in LA now. It’s a very California-thing to do. Plus, I watched this documentary online about how much healthier is to eat vegan food—then of course, they showed the animals being abused at the farms, though you can hardly call it a farm. Now, every time I see bacon, I hear the pig screaming while it bleeds out.

  I moved to LA just over two months ago. Away from my hometown in Idaho. Away from my mom, dad, and older brother. After dropping out of college to focus on my vlog, I decided to spread my wings.

  I’m kind of famous online. I vlog about fashion, makeup, beauty products, and whatever else I feel like when I turn on the camera. It seems silly now. I mean, I’ve dedicated my whole life, since I was fifteen, to a beauty vlog.

  My phone alerts me with notifications. Everybody loves the video I posted early this morning. “How to dress for a first date.” I’m giving outfit advice for a first date and I’ve never even had a first date.

  I am going to die without kissing a boy.

  I cry.

  Then I cry harder, realizing that I’m crying over something so trivial.

  “Oh, my God!” a girl screams.

  I wipe under my eyes and look over at her.

  “Are you Juliet from Juliet’s Beauty on YouTube?” age asks.

  I force myself to smile. “Yes, I am.”

  She squeals and grabs my arm. “I am your biggest fan! I love you!”

  “Want a selfie?” I ask.

  I’ve met enough fans to know that they all want a selfie with me, and I’m not in the mood to chitchat. I don’t want to be rude, but I did just learn that I have cancer. Stage 4 cancer. I’m allowed to mourn for at least one day before I start planning for death.

  I smile as she extends her arm. She snaps a couple of selfies and then says a quick thank you. She runs off towards an older couple—her parents, I assume.

  The girl looks young, probably only twelve, or thirteen. She’s still got braces and her hair is in two braids. She has a huge smile as she talks excitedly to her parents, and I can tell that I made her day.

  I make videos for girls like her, so that she can have confidence. Which is ironic; considering I have zero confidence when I am not in front of a camera.

  Yes, let the world know that I, Juliet Summers, am a shy, awkward girl who has never been out on a date. Or kissed a guy. Or been anywhere besides Idaho and California.

  Actually, there are a lot of firsts I haven’t experienced yet.

  It’s then that I realize; I need a bucket list.

  I decided against doing treatment. They couldn’t promise my life would be extended, but that I would be sicker if I did treatments. Instead, I want to live each and every day I have left like it’s my last. It very well could be.

  I walk back to my car and drive to my apartment.

  It’s small.

  A studio apartment.

  I have a bed, a love seat, a kitchen, and a small table where I eat breakfast. I have a camera set up in the corner with all my lighting equipment, and then my computer sits on my desk.

  Getting an old fashioned piece of paper and pen, I push my computer out of the way and start my bucket list.

  The day my life came to an end... well, really, it’s the day my life began. Because, right now, I am choosing to live.

  BUCKET LIST

  1. Kiss a boy.

  For a moment, I am embarrassed that I wrote that as the number one item.

  I contemplate writing down “get a tattoo,” but I don’t want my parents to freak out when they see it on my dead corpse.

  Eh, maybe it’s too soon to be making dead jokes, even inside my head.

  2. Go cliff jumping.

  I almost mark it off, but I figure dying from jumping off a cliff sounds a lot cooler than dying from cancer. Imagine what my headstone would read. “Died from living life to the extreme.” Sounds good to me.

  3. Go on a road trip.

  4. Visit every state (excluding Hawaii and Alaska).

  Yep. A road trip where I go to every single state in the US sounds fun.

  5. Fall in love.

  I immediately
scratch that one off.

  I am not going to let some poor boy fall in love with me, only to die a few months later. That’s cruel.

  5. Sing karaoke in front of a huge crowd.

  6. Go camping.

  7. Learn to surf.

  8. Go zip lining.

  9. Swim in the Atlantic Ocean.

  10. Dance in the rain.

  11. Stand under a waterfall.

  12. Go whale watching.

  13. Watch my brother marry the girl of his dreams.

  Number 13 is tricky.

  My brother’s wedding is set for January. My expiration date is December. It could be a problem.

  I try not to think about it as I move on.

  14. Have somebody write a song about me.

  15. Attend a music festival.

  16. Crowd surf.

  17. Attend a professional sports game.

  18. Get married in Vegas.

  I don’t know why I write that, but I’m not marking it out. After seeing how stressed out my brother and his fiancé are, I planned on eloping someday anyway. I don’t need to get married in front of a big crowd.

  19. Get lost in NYC.

  20. See a Broadway play.

  21. Stay in a 5-star hotel.

  22. Go bowling.

  I’ve never been bowling before.

  Sad, I know.

  23. Do yoga.

  24. See the Grand Canyon.

  25. Visit French Quarter in New Orleans.

  26. Eat a hot dog in Chicago.

  27. See six months’ worth of sunsets (and sunrises).

  28. Write a goodbye letter to everybody I love. Because, I’m too chicken to tell them to their face.

  I put my pen down, satisfied with my list.

  This starts tomorrow.

  Tomorrow, my life begins.

  Thursday, June 2

  So it begins.

  The type of cancer I have is called melanoma, which is a fancy word for skin cancer. Unfortunately, it’s not the kind of cancer you can ever get rid of, and I am already in stage 4.

  But I don’t want to scare you off with boring medical terms, or even make you sad for me. Instead, I want to enjoy every single second like it’s my last. Because it is.

  My doorbell goes off at seven in the morning and I’m wondering who could be at my apartment this early. When I swing the door open, I’m surprised to see Kale, my brother’s best friend, standing on the other side.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I was in town, so I thought I’d come see my favorite girl,” he answers.

  I stand there, with my mouth open.

  “Are you going to invite me in?” he asks.

  I nod, stepping back so he can enter.

  “Nice place,” he says, looking around.

  “Want a tour?” I ask.

  He nods.

  I clear my throat, and use my best professional voice. “On the right, you see my kitchen, which opens up to my dining room and living room. On the left, you will see my office and bedroom.” I smile. “As you can see, I have a very open floor plan.”

  Kale laughs, making me realize how much I miss home.

  I want to call my mom and dad. I want to tell them about my diagnosis, but I can’t. I don’t want my family to watch me die.

  He walks around my apartment, snooping through my things. I let him, because he’s Kale. You can’t tell him no. He does what he wants. Growing up, I always wished I could be like him. He’s so confident. It’s no wonder my brother wanted to become his best friend.

  “Bucket list?” he asks, looking at the piece of paper on my desk.

  I go over and try to snatch it from him.

  “Kiss a boy,” he says, grinning. “Juliet, you’ve never been kissed?”

  “Shut up!” I jump, trying to get the paper, but he holds me back.

  “Why did you mark out fall in love?” he asks, but doesn’t stop reading.

  “Kale, I’m serious.”

  “Get married in Vegas,” he says. “Your mom would kill you. And your future husband. You know she lives for wedding planning.”

  “Exactly why I want to do it in Vegas,” I say.

  Kale keeps reading.

  He frowns.

  “Write a goodbye letter?” he asks. “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere,” I say, finally getting the list. Not that it matters now. He read it all.

  I sit down in my computer chair and pull my knees up to my chest, hugging them. I want to cry, but I’ve cried enough. I can’t do it in front of Kale.

  “Juliet, you have to talk to me,” he says, coming down in front of me. He sinks to his knees and he has a look of absolute horror on his face. Which is exactly why I can’t tell my family about my diagnosis. They will look at me just like he’s looking at me.

  “Do you want to go on a road trip with me?” I ask him. “Because my bucket list would be a lot more fun with you.”

  “You know I will,” he says.

  I take a deep breath, and tell him. “I’m dying.”

  “Dying? Like, in eighty years, right? Not until you’re ninety-nine,” he says.

  “No. Like, by December.”

  “December,” he repeats.

  “I have cancer, Kale,” I tell him.

  “Does your family...” he can’t finish his sentence.

  I shake my head. “I can’t tell them. Not yet. I can’t let them watch me die.”

  “Juliet...”

  I cut him off. “Kale, please. I can’t.”

  He remains quiet for a bit, my news sinking in.

  “Here’s the deal. I am nineteen. According to my timeline, I am not going to live to see my twentieth birthday,” I say. “I haven’t even lived yet. So, I want to spend the next six months doing some crazy stuff. And it would be a lot more fun if you go with me. But if not, I’ll go by myself.”

  He looks at me. “Who else is going to marry you in Vegas? I’m not going to let you marry a stranger.”

  “And you’re going to marry me?” I ask.

  Kale nods. “Your brother is going to kill me, but it’ll be worth it.”

  I laugh.

  It’s the first time I’ve laughed since I got the diagnosis.

  “What about treatment? How are you doing to get treatment while we’re on the road?” he asks.

  “There is no treatment.” My voice is so quiet, I’m not sure he can even hear me.

  He gets up.

  “No...” his voice breaks.

  And he cries. This is something I’ve never, ever, ever seen Kale do in all the nineteen years I’ve known him.

  Kale grew up spending a lot of time in my house. His mom and my mom are best friends. So he and my brother grew up from diapers together. Two years after my brother, I came along. Kale didn’t have any other siblings, so I spent all my time following Kale and Jason, my brother, around. They pretended to hate it, but I think they secretly liked me.

  I get up and wrap my arms around him.

  He hugs me back tightly.

  His body is shaking as he sobs.

  And I am calm.

  This hug feels really good.

  “So you’re really going to marry me?” I ask, hoping to take his mind off the fact that I’m dying.

  He backs away, not ashamed to have sobbed in front of me like a baby. “Juliet, yes. I am going to marry you. And kiss you.”

  “Well, that’s pretty much a requirement since you’re going to be my husband. But don’t worry. I won’t haunt you when you marry somebody else after I die. Unless she’s a skank, then I promise nothing,” I say.

  Kale smiles again.

  Marrying him wasn’t part of the plan, but he’s right. It would be weird to marry a stranger. Much weirder than marrying my brother’s best friend. Which, yes, is pretty freaking weird.

  But hey, I’m dying.

  I get a free pass.

  Yeah, still too soon to make jokes about dying in my head.

  “So, w
hy are you in LA?” I ask.

  “Collaboration video with Will,” he answers.

  Kale makes vlogs too.

  He got into it because of me. He’s not a beauty guru, but he does do really funny videos. A lot of skits. I’ve been in a few of his, and he’s been in a few of mine. One time, I let him do my makeup. That was fun.

  “We stayed up most of the night finishing it,” he says.

  “Cool,” I say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he answers.

  “So, are we going to document our road trip?” I ask. “For the fans.”

  He nods. “Not for the fans. For us. For your family.”

  “Should we tell YouTube about the Vegas wedding?”

  “If you think Jason will kill me because I marry you, he will really kill me if he thinks were staying in hotel rooms together without being married,” he says.

  My face grows warm. “Um... you don’t have to... um... stay with me... if you don’t want to.”

  “Juliet, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face so red before.”

  I roll my eyes. “Shut up. I have to pack,” I say, and then finally look at him. “You don’t have to marry me, you know. I mean, it’s kind of weird, right?”

  “Very,” he says. “You’re like a little sister to me.”

  “At least I don’t have to worry about you falling in love with me,” I say. “If I married somebody else, then I’d have to worry about it. I don’t want to die knowing that I left somebody behind, you know? I can’t do that to a guy.”

  “Don’t you want to be in love?” he asks.

  I nod. “But that’s not an option for me anymore.”

  He frowns.

  “But this has to be a happy trip. No talk about death. Or cancer,” I say.

  “Okay,” he says.

  “I have six months left to live, and I want to live them to the fullest.”