Having a best friend is one of the most important parts of life in my opinion. I’ve went most of my life without one, secluding myself, hiding as mutant in the confines of my bedroom. It wasn’t always this way, but as a child, I didn’t realize how instrumental friendships are in life. I was the bookworm, the studious kid, the one who would rather go exploring alone, rather than gossiping and shopping with friends. Maybe there was a reason for this and maybe my life was designed to be one of unity to prevent heartache of others.

I’ll never really know the why’s of who I am or why I am this way, but at age twenty-four, I made my first true friend. Ellie—she’s my soulmate, but not like most soulmates who are meant to be romantically involved and spend each moment in gazing into each others eyes, she’s my soulmate for a much different reason.

“Do you want to meet for coffee after school? I have an idea,” Ellie says.

“An idea?” I laugh. “You and your ideas are going to get us in trouble one of these days.”

“Most definitely,” she says with a grin.

The last half of the school day flew by in a blur as I wondered what Ellie’s idea was. She’s the only person outside of my family who I have shared details of my life-altering disease with. Being diagnosed at eighteen with congenital heart-failure after living a normal life was the hardest news I would ever have to swallow, which includes the news that I’d be dying within the year. It turns out, I’ve had this faulty heart since I was in the womb and my mild symptoms were always chalked up to other illness; common colds, viruses, bugs, I’ve had it all, but never knew until my heart skipped too many beats, causing me to pass out in the middle of my high-school’s gym. After a million tests, we found an ugly diagnosis. We didn’t know at the time, but my life was about to degrade quickly.

Waiting outside of the school by Ellie’s car, I see her jog out of the back door with a smile from ear to ear. “I don’t think I contain my excitement or wait until we get to the coffee shop. Guess what?”

“What?” I say, taking her shaking hands. “Tell me!”

“I’m pregnant,” she spits out. “After all that time of trying, it finally happened.”

I’m left without words with utter elation and happiness for Ellie and her husband, Hunter. They have wanted a baby so badly and they’ve had nothing but failed attempts in the time I’ve known her, and even before that. I wrap my arms around her neck and squeeze her tightly, feeling her heart pound against my dying one. “I can’t even believe it! I’m so happy for you! Do you know how far along you are?”

“I’m already thirteen weeks. I was scared to tell anyone after losing the last two babies so early, but my doctor said this one is sticking around and he’s confident we’re going to be parents.” Ellie has tears rolling down her cheeks and all I can do is embrace her happiness and wonder what it must be like to want something so badly and actually receive it. Like a heart for me. I’ve been on a recipient list since eighteen and I’m no closer now than I was then, which sucks since I’m getting closer to the end. I haven’t told Ellie I’m not returning for the next school year. I haven’t told her I won’t be strong enough to get out of bed by that time if I’m still alive. She knows I’m dying, but it’s always been a thing to happen at an undisclosed date in the future.

“That’s incredible! Hunter must be over the moon!” I tell her.

“Oh my gosh, he already has the nursery done. He’s picked out a million names from the baby book and we literally spend every moment together crossing names off of our list and adding new ones. I don’t think I could have asked for a better husband and dad for our child. I’m so grateful this little girl or boy is going to have him.”

Ellie’s face falls flat as she looks down at her stomach, rubbing at it with the palms of her hands. “I’m scared our child might only have one parent, though, you know?”

I place my hand on Ellie’s shoulder, forcing her to look up at me. “You knew this could be a possibility, Ellie. It was part of your plan.” A plan I’m not sure I understand still, but a plan, nonetheless. Ellie has an active brain aneurism that could rupture during any physical trauma to the head or intense activity. She calls herself a ticking time-bomb.

This is why we are best friends. We’re both dying. She doesn’t know when her last day is going to be, and I don’t know when my last day is going to be. Now that she’s pregnant, there’s a good chance she just fast-forwarded to her ending, which ironically might be right around the time of mine. How sad are we?

“I know. I still want all of this. I want to leave Hunter with a piece of me, and this is the only way to do it.” I’ve told her she had the possibility of living a long time as long as she kept her head safe but she has told me there is no purpose to living if you can’t live completely. If she dies, she will have left nothing behind for people to remember her by, and a child, in her mind, was the only way to do this.

“You should tell Hunter,” I say. “Don’t you think?”

She nods quickly at me with a tight-lipped smile. “No, I want him to enjoy this time. I want to enjoy this time. It’s like tearing a bandaid off. No one wants to do it slowly, right?”

“I suppose,” I tell her, wanting to hug her and beg her to change her mind about everything but it’s too late.

“I told you I have an idea,” she says.

“What is your idea?” I ask her as we start walking alongside of the football field.

“If I don’t make it through birthing and I die, I want you to have my heart.”

I stop walking because I’m not sure my brain is capable of comprehending what she just said. Telling me she would give me her heart as if it were a pencil to replace my broken one, doesn’t seem okay. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” she says, pulling me forward.

“Ellie, I couldn’t…”

“Take my beating heart out of my dead body? Yeah, you can, and you will,” she says.

“No, I mean, it doesn’t just work that way, regardless of how selfless this offer is. I can’t even wrap my head around the absurdity, honestly.”

“What do you mean? We’ll draft up paperwork, and it’ll be a done deal.” How is this so easy for her to talk about?

“I know the rules and laws of donations and transplants and a living person can’t offer to donate an organ.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she says.

“I agree, but that’s the law and I don’t know a doctor who would put their job on the line to break that law.”

“You told me your doctor is a sleaze, right?” she asks.

I did tell her this. Dr. Drake has propositioned me and has made things very uncomfortable. I have set him straight and debated on reporting him to the hospital but I’m not dumb enough to ignore the fact that he is the best heart surgeon in New England and I would be a complete moron for getting him fired. “Yeah, and?”

“Let me at him,” she says with a sinful glow to her face.

“What are you going to do?” I ask nervously.

“Do you trust me?” she asks.

“I did up until this very moment,” I say through soft, uneasy laughter.

“Look,” she says, stopping in place, turning to me and grabbing my shoulders firmly. “I’m most likely not going to make it through birth and I have a perfectly healthy heart. We have the same blood type, which is just weird, and I feel like this is the way it’s supposed to be, Ari. Take my heart if you make it longer than I do?” The thought of taking her heart means she will no longer be here but that’s a part I can’t control. “Say okay!”

I sniffle, trying to hold back my tears, but they come anyway. “Okay,” I mutter.

“I told you we were soulmates,” she says.

“I thought it was because we were both dying and needed each other for support, not because one of us would outlive the other and then live on with the other’s heart.”

“But now, we’re truly soulmates,” she says. “You’ll have a part of my soul with you long after I’m gone. What are friends for, Ari?”

“If I make it that long, I promise you I will always take care of your heart, as if it were my own.”

“I know you will, and you will make it.”

“The doctor said I probably don’t have more than a year,” I tell her.

“When did that happen? Why didn’t you tell me?” Ellie scolds me.

“Yesterday at my appointment. I was going to tell you but I’ve been digesting.”

“Well, I have six months to go. That’s half of a year. Hold on, okay?”

“I’ll try, but I’d rather you make it through childbirth and be this baby’s mom,” I tell her, reaching out and placing my hand on her stomach.

“We don’t have choices, Ari. We can only make plans.”