Mars Read Online Free PDF Page A

disease that weakens him and turns his own body against him. I cry because of all the advertisements I see on television of celebrities visiting little kids who are suffering cancer too.  I cry because those kids have gone through so much medication when they've barely lived a few years on Earth. I cry because so many pure souls die because of it.
     
    I pull away from her embrace; Jenna wipes my tears with the tip of her sleeve. "You think your Dad will be able to let you see him?"
     
    I consider the possibility and shake my head.
     
    Jenna gives me a smile similar to the one she wore when we pranked my neighbor when we were ten. "Well, he can't say no to you," she put quotes in the air, "coming to sleepover tonight because we have a big ass project due tomorrow."
     
    I smile through tears. "God, I love you."
     
     

     
     
    I enter the hospital, my nostrils taking in the smell of chlorine and various different cleaning detergents. Rushing towards the receptionist, I look at her through my eyelashes to make myself look more innocent.
     
    "Hi, um, do you know where Logan Masterson might be? He checked in today."'
     
    The lady raises an eyebrow and looks up form her computer, "and who are you?"
     
    "Ama—Mars Jones, his girlfriend,” I refuse to give out my real name.
     
    My hesitation gets her slightly suspicious. I blink several times and sniffle. "Pl-please let me know where he is. I'm so worried about him," I look down to the gold ring in her right hand, "Imagine if someone you loved was brought in because he fainted, while having cancer.”
     
    Her eyes soften and she nods. "Alright, Ms. Jones, give me a second." She looks him up on the computer and gives me his room number. I restrain myself from running to his room and take fast, long strides. Deep breaths are my best friends right now.
     
    Approaching his room, I knock three times. There is shuffling behind the door and it opens slightly to reveal a blonde woman in her fifties. Her red-rimmed brown eyes analyze me and there is no spark of recognition in them.
     
    "Who are you?" She says, pursing her lips.
     
    "Amy Wolfe, ma'am. I'm Logan's friend, and I've been worried sick about him for the past hours. He fainted in front of me."
     
    Her expression goes from stone hard to feather pillow soft.  She sticks her hand out to me and nods. I shake her hand. "I'm Jane Masterson, his mother. Come in, Amy."
     
    I enter the room and my heart gets punched at the sight. Logan is sleeping in bed, with several  things  strapped onto him. He looks paler, if that's even possible. But it's still Logan.  
     
    A man whom I figured is his father is holding his hand and looking at him, with tears falling down his face. A girl a year or two younger than me is sitting on the other side, staring at him. The man looks up and I can swear I nearly jump at the identical gray eyes Logan inherited. I give him a smile.
     
    "This is Amy Wolfe, his friend. Amy, this is George Masterson, my husband and his dad," introduces Mrs. Masterson. I give a small wave from far, blinking to keep tears from falling. Mr. Masterson acknowledges my presence and goes back to looking at his son with melancholic eyes.
     
    The girl by Logan's side stands up and tucks her long sandy hair behind her ear and she extends a hand. "I'm Ella." She has her mom's eyes.
     
    I shake her hand. "I'm Amy."
     
    "Amaryllis, not Amy," a voice speaks up and I get a heart attack. All eyes are averted to Logan, who is awake. He is looking at me, smiling tiredly. 
     
    Mrs. Masterson rushes by his side and strokes his hair. "How you feeling, baby?"
     
    "God, Mom, I thought I told you not to act cute in front of lovely girls. It messes up my flawless charm. I'm better, though." He chuckles, smiling at her. She hopelessly shakes her head at him, kissing his head repeatedly.
     
    "How's your breathing?" asks Ella.
     
    Logan grimaces. "So-so."
     
    "Well then don't talk, it'll make it worse," I speak up for the first