“You…you have cancer, too?” Joey blinked, hardly able to believe his eyes, least of all his ears.

“Sure do,” said Sheri, brushing her palm over her smooth, shiny scalp. “Had it for some time, actually. I was first diagnosed when I was twelve, and now the monster has reared its ugly head once more. I have osteosarcoma—in other words, bone cancer.”

“Bone cancer?”

She nodded and moved her hand to her right thigh. “That’s how I ended up losing my leg. They’d found this huge tumor inside my knee, and nothing else could stop it from spreading.”

Joey was floored, to say the least. He had initially assumed the amputation was due to some bad break or infection, but hearing that cancer was the true source hit him like a punch in the gut. “I don’t believe it,” he whispered.

A wry smile played on Sheri’s lips. “For the longest time, neither could I,” she said. “I’m no runner, dancer, or gymnast…but you never realize how much a particular limb means to you until it’s gone.”

Joey couldn’t fathom living his life without a leg, even if *NSYNC and dancing didn’t make up such a significant chunk of his life. Despite having leukemia, at least his body would remain intact; all he had to lose were his hair, his vitality, and the occasional contents of his stomach. At an utter loss for words, he could only stare at Sheri, caught somewhere between breathtaking admiration and heart-wrenching pity.

At length, Sheri went on, “It was no small price to pay, I can tell you. But at least I’m alive for the time being…and from my viewpoint, that’s the most important thing.”

“What do you mean, ‘for the time being’?” Joey asked, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.

The girl regarded him with one of the most serious, most profound expressions he ever recalled seeing on anyone. In a soft but meaningful tone, she told him, “When they first informed me about my cancer and how serious it was, they said I’d be lucky to see my sixteenth birthday. Two weeks ago, I turned twenty-six. Even now, the jury’s still out about my future, but having made it this far is beyond anything I could have hoped for. If there’s anything I’ve learned from all this, it’s that every day is a gift, and I should make the most of every day that comes my way.”

A lump lodged in Joey’s throat. Hearing such wisdom from someone so young and tender moved him to no small degree, and it made him a little ashamed of himself. He thought of his group mates and how they used to rush all over the place, scarcely aware of one day until the next day came along. Did it always require something of this magnitude to wake them up, to make them stop and think of how precious life truly was?

When he found his voice again, all he could say was, “You’re a trooper, Sheri. A real trooper.”

Sheri’s sweet smile returned to her face, easing the tension in the room. “You know, my friends used to call me Super Trooper Cooper. One of them went the extra mile with Super Duper Trooper Cooper.” She giggled. “Try saying that ten times fast!”

He laughed, too. “Super Trooper—kind of like that ABBA song?”

To his astonishment, she sang on the spot:

“Super trouper lights are gonna find me
Shining like the sun,
Smiling, having fun,
Feeling like a number one.”

Impressed at the girl’s ability, he joined her on the second half:

“Super trouper beams are gonna blind me,
But I won't feel blue
Like I always do,
'Cause somewhere in the crowd, there's you.”

They went through the entire song, with Sheri singing one verse, Joey crooning another, and the two of them harmonizing quite nicely on the chorus. When they reached the end, Joey declared, “Not a bad duet, if I do say so myself.”

“Coming from you,” said Sheri as she donned her cap again, “that means a lot. All the time I underwent treatment, that song sort of became my personal anthem. I listened to it so many times they threatened to chuck the CD out the window, and I could pretty much sing the whole thing in my sleep. Music’s incredible therapy, isn’t it?”

“You can say that again,” Joey said. Gazing at his hands, he added softly, “I guess that’s why the other guys and I love to do it. Not only is it fun for us and our listeners, but there’s some personal satisfaction, some private joy to be found inside it. Somehow, everything just feels right with the world; sure, we’ve still got our problems…but for the moment, they don’t matter so much.”

One of Sheri’s hands reached toward him, and almost without realizing what he was doing, he clasped it gently. Her hand was small and bony, but also warm and soft, as if she used some special lotion on it. When their gazes met again, Joey found himself seeing more than a devoted fan with cancer. It was funny, really; despite having just met her, she had made him feel better than anyone else had this week, or the week before.

“Well,” Sheri said after a while, “I suppose I should get going, now. You probably need your rest, and I need to get back to my room anyway before they send a search party after me.”

“Do you need help?” Joey asked as he watched her gather up her crutches.

“No, no. I’m good, thank you.” It took some time and a bit of strain, but she successfully hoisted herself back up. Before hobbling to the door, she said, “It was awesome to visit with you, Joey, even if the situation was less than ideal. I’ll make sure to keep you in my thoughts and prayers.”

“Thanks for taking the time to visit me,” Joey said, and meant it.

“When you see the other guys, tell them I said hello.”

“Will do.”

“And don’t worry, I won’t tell another soul about your whereabouts. You get well soon, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Joey with a salute, which brought another peal of laughter out of her.

Barely five minutes after Sheri went out, Joey’s gang came in. Each of them held a take-out coffee cup, and Justin and Lance were just finishing off their favorite candy bars. Lance had an extra bar with him, which he handed to Joey. “Brought you a little present." 

“Thanks, man,” said Joey, feeling good enough to immediately peel off the wrapper and take a bite.

“Who were you talking to, Joey?” JC asked after a swig of coffee.

“We thought we saw someone come out your door,” said Chris.

“You did,” Joey said through a mouthful of chocolate and nougat.

“Who was it?” Justin asked.

“Her name’s Sheri. She’s a patient here, too, and she happens to be one of our old fans. She says hi to all of you.”

“You don’t say?” said Lance, cocking his brows in great interest. “A fan at this very hospital?”

“Yep. Small world, huh?”

“Oh, great,” said Chris, clapping a hand to his forehead. “Even in this place, there’s no escape from the fans.”

“Relax, Chris. She only popped in for a little visit, and she took a vow to secrecy when she left.”

“I hope she didn’t bother you too much,” said JC; a warning note underlay his tone.

Feeling a strange need to defend Sheri, Joey insisted, “It’s okay, JC. She was no bother at all, really. In fact, she turned out to be very nice.”

“You know, you do look better than you did this morning,” Lance noted. “And somehow, I doubt it’s because of the chocolate.”

Joey nodded. “I feel better than I did this morning—and no, it’s not just due to the chocolate.”