“Joey, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“You heard them, JC. One day or another, this will be all gone anyway. Why wait until that happens? Besides, this is my way of telling the cancer, ‘Screw you. I’m already one step ahead of you.’”

Chris, who stood close behind JC, said in a low voice, “I’ve seen Justin with a shaved head, and that was weird in itself. But you…”

“What Justin does with his hair is his business, and what I do with my hair is my business. Now, kindly step aside, guys. You’re making me claustrophobic.”

Reluctantly, JC and Chris backed away.

Lance, who stood with Justin outside the bathroom door, said with a lopsided smile, “Well, on the plus side, Joe, you’ll never have to bother with a comb or razor after this, and you’ll save a fortune in shampoos, gels and haircuts.”

“Right now, money is the least of my problems,” said Joey as he turned on the electric razor.

He started with his face, and the others watched with baited breath as his characteristic beard slowly disappeared. It wasn’t until he’d shifted the razor to his head that Chris put a hand over his eyes and turned away. JC couldn’t help turning away, too. Justin kept his eyes fixed on Joey the whole time, though he looked like a witness to a torture scene.

When Joey tried to reach the hair at the back of his head, Lance quickly stepped forward, saying, “Here, Joey, let me help you with that.”

So Joey let Lance take over. Within minutes, all of Joey’s hair lay in sad clumps in the sink and on the tiled floor. When Lance shut off the razor, JC slowly looked at Joey again, and Chris dared to peek through his fingers.

Running his hands over his now sleek face and scalp, Joey said, “Eat your heart out, Mr. Clean.”

“You know, it’s not that bad,” Lance noted. “In fact, you don’t look so different from the time you and I did ‘On the Line.’”

None of the other three spoke. Seeing their white, shell-shocked faces in the mirror, Joey said, “Hey, come on, guys, it’s only hair. Like Dr. Delaney said, it’ll grow back. And in the meantime, I could use a new look.”

“I’m just…just not used to seeing you like this,” said Justin in a small voice.

“And it’ll take a while to get used to it,” JC said, his voice also bordering on inaudible. “For me, anyway.”

Chris, still shielding his eyes, edged his way out the door, murmuring, “Excuse me, I—I gotta go.”

No sooner was Chris gone than Justin decided to follow, and Justin more or less made a dash for it. Five seconds later, JC headed briskly after both of them, leaving Joey alone with Lance.

At length, Joey asked, “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to join them?”

“Of course not,” said Lance, sounding puzzled and a little hurt. “It’s all right, Joey, really. Like you said, it’s only hair. No big deal.” Even as he said it, Joey could still make out the anxiety in his soft green eyes. “Besides,” Lance went on, making a subtle gesture at the fallen hair, “someone’s got to help you clean this up.”

Before cleaning up, Joey studied his reflection one last time. While he still looked like himself, he could also understand why the other guys freaked out the way they did. Despite his acting like his hair loss wasn’t a big deal, it was. He could only imagine what this was like for other people, especially women.

Still, this would be a small price to pay if he beat the cancer, and doing this himself did give him some sense of satisfaction.

In his mind’s eye, he saw a scoreboard and the tally marked as, JOEY, 1; CANCER, 0.

Thus the course of chemotherapy began.

Chris, JC, and Justin stayed away during Joey’s first session, but Lance stuck around. All Joey had to do was sit quietly while they pumped the stuff into him through a long, narrow tube. As Dr. Delaney had predicted, Joey felt no pain, but it was a truly weird sensation nonetheless; it really did feel like liquid ice inside him, and the side effects were almost immediate. They gave him a large basin and told him to “let ‘er rip” if he ever felt the need. He tried his hardest to resist until he couldn’t hold back anymore.

The sounds of Joey’s retching went to Lance’s heart, and he kept rubbing and patting Joey’s back. Dr. Delaney, who was with them, assured Joey that this was perfectly natural, and even a good sign.

“How can it be a good sign?” Joey barely had the breath to ask.

“It means the cancer’s taking a sound beating as well. Everything that affects you affects it at the same time.”

It pleased Joey to hear this, but it also troubled him, made him wonder how many blows he could endure before this was over.

By the time it was over for that day, Joey felt drained, dizzy, and very miserable. Lance saw no point in asking him whether he was okay. When the other three joined them later, one look at Joey and Lance’s grim countenance told them exactly how it went. “And this is only the beginning,” Joey said with a groan, covering his ashen face with both hands and kneading his lids. “These next few days are going to be hell, guys. Living hell.”

“We’re really sorry, man,” said Justin, wishing he could come up with a better, more original phrase than that.

“No one should have to go through something like this,” said Chris softly, “least of all you.”

“Can’t we do something?” JC asked.

Dropping his hands, Joey said, “Right now, you can go somewhere else and let me have a nap. I’m dog-tired.”

“Are you sure?” asked Lance.

“They said to allow myself loads of rest, so I’ll do what I’m told. This might even help soothe my stomach.”

“Will you be all right by yourself?” Chris asked.

“If I’m asleep, I won’t know if anyone else is around or not. And if I ever do need anything, I’m already covered.” Noting his companions’ haggard forms, Joey added with a half-smile, “Besides, you four deserve a break. Go nab some coffee, or an ice cream cone, or whatever. Just do something, and take your time coming back, too.”

Reluctant as the others were to walk off, no one argued. “I suppose I could use a shot of coffee,” Chris muttered, one hand massaging the back of his neck. “I need a major caffeine boost.”

“And some ice cream sounds pretty good right about now,” Justin added.

Joey nodded and made a shooing motion toward the door. “Off with you.”

One by one, the gang took their leave. Even before they were gone, Joey had already sunk into the warm, soft depths of sleep.

How long Joey slept, he had no way of knowing, but he awoke to a strange sort of tap-tap. The noise came from just outside his door.

“Who’s there?” His voice sounded low and thick, almost foreign to his own ears.

To his genuine surprise, a girl’s voice responded—and not one he had heard before.

“Oh, my gosh! It’s you!”