Me and Earl and the Dying Girl Page #3

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Why?

Right, so it's pretty

spread out in the body?

That is a fact, yes.

How soon do

people die from it?

I think it's often

pretty treatable, bud.

Why do you ask?

Well, you know Rachel Kushner

has leukemia, right?

Wait, Rachel has what?

I'm, like,

innovatively stupid.

Everyone was gonna find out

sooner or later.

Just hate having to share

everything about myself.

I'm the exact same way.

You know, one thing you can do

if you don't want to

talk to anyone...

...is just enter

a subhuman state.

Here, pretend you're

someone annoying.

"Hi, Rachel.

"I'm really sorry

you have cancer."

Does that ever work?

Yeah, of course.

It works all the time.

It's called passive resistance.

You know, that's what Gandhi

was all about.

I'm pretty sure Gandhi

never did the subhuman thing.

That's how India achieved

statehood. Here, try it.

Nope.

Come on, it's easy.

Okay. Or another thing

you can do is just

flat-out pretend to be dead.

Say something annoying to me.

Um...

"Hey, Rachel. I just want you

to remember

"that your cancer

is all part of God's plan."

Hey, a**hole.

Yeah, over here.

Just so we're straight on this,

you're advising

a girl with cancer...

...to pretend to be dead.

No, seriously.

Think about what you're

doing here, d*ckhead.

I've been doing

my broody Wolverine face on

this girl's wall...

...for five

and a quarter years,

and at this point, I'm

probably only still here...

...because she'd feel

weirdly guilty

or disloyal taking me down.

But I'm goddamned

if I'm letting

a little punk like you

waltz in here...

...stupiding up the place!

Not on my watch, pal.

Greg, what's wrong?

I'm really sorry.

I shouldn't have told you

to pretend to be dead.

That was really insensitive.

I mean, I'm sick.

I'm not dying.

Yeah, I know, but I just...

Now I'm being

all weird about it.

And I can't get un-weird,

'cause I just...

Despite what you said,

I'm clearly still sitting here

thinking...

..."death, death, death,

death, death, death."

That's exactly

what I'm talking about!

So if this was

a touching romantic story...

...this is probably

where a new feeling

would wash over me...

and suddenly we would be

furiously making out...

...with the fire

of a thousand suns.

But this isn't

a touching romantic story.

Anyway...

Yep.

But we did still become friends.

Daniel Craig's thing is,

he's got an accent, right?

So he's used to talking with

his mouth in a weird shape...

...which is why he has

pouty lips, like a woman.

Lickable technology, like,

I could text you a sandwich.

There's a button on the nape

of his neck, under the skin.

Just push it

if you want him to stop.

Do you believe animals

just live in our house,

and everyone's cool with it?

Like, real animals?

Anyway. You talk now.

You mean, talk about cancer?

Only if you want to.

The hardest part is

watching my mom

trying to deal with it all.

And sometimes, I mean,

I do think if it ends up

that she's alone

in that house...

She has no one. She and my dad

hate each other.

She has no siblings.

I don't know what she'd do.

Don't cry.

I'm not crying.

Right, well, you know,

you can cry if you need to.

I thought you said,

"Don't cry."

Me and my dad used to

walk around the block

and count squirrels.

Why? Did he work for, like,

the squirrel census?

No, it was just

something we did

when it was time for us

to spend time together.

We didn't even say anything

while we did it.

All we'd say was stuff like:

"Squirrel, seven."

"Two squirrels, nine."

Jesus. You need to apply

for a dad refund immediately.

What group am I in?

What?

Yesterday you were

saying you'd mapped out

the entire high school by group.

What's my group?

Seriously?

Yeah.

Boring Jewish Senior Girls,

Subgroup 2-A.

Please appreciate

how honest I was just now.

You're an a**hole.

What group are you in?

Uh, I'm not

in a group, actually.

I just wouldn't belong to

a group that doesn't suck.

You know,

I'm terminally awkward

and I have a face

like a little groundhog.

So...

You can't really think that.

No, I don't think that.

I know that.

I just feel like, you know,

for a kid like me...

...in high school,

best case scenario,

just... survive. You know?

Survive without creating

any mortal enemies...

...or hideously embarrassing

yourself forever.

Just survive until college?

College? No. God, college is

going to be even worse.

What?

I mean, at least high school,

it's over at 3:
00...

...and it's kids

I mostly know by now.

But college is just gonna be

non-stop strangers.

And some of them

even live in your room.

It's like you can

literally never relax.

I see myself dying of

a panic attack two weeks in.

I might just not apply.

That's the dumbest thing

I've ever heard you say.

It's probably

not even top five.

And, you know,

high school, college,

we're forced to spend

these years of our lives...

...in randomly selected

groups of people

that we have nothing

in common with.

It's a nightmare.

Anyone who says otherwise

is lying.

Congratulations, Greg.

Tomorrow,

you're eating lunch with

Boring Jewish Senior Girls,

Subgroup 2-A.

So where do you usually sit?

It's literally like we're trying

to have lunch in Kandahar.

Rachel, we just found out the

theme for this year's prom:

"A Knight to Remember."

Knight with a "K."

Medieval prom!

Isn't prom like

six months away?

Hi, guys. This is Greg,

he's gonna be

sitting with us today.

Anybody need any spoons? No?

Hello.

So, Greg, why are you

sitting with us today?

You know, it's lunch.

You gotta eat somewhere.

Can't stand and eat.

You and Rachel seem very

friendly, all of a sudden.

Yeah.

You're only talking to her

because she has cancer.

What?

Greg, you hung out

with Rachel once.

You're befriending her to

feel good about yourself.

No, I'm not.

Who even does that?

You guys mind

if I sit with you?

Of course not.

Sorry, it's a...

It's a pillow.

It's meant to be a baby,

for health class.

You think it's safe here?

A pillow?

Greg, what do you think?

Mmm, I don't know.

Better not get it

too close to me,

otherwise I might just

masturbate onto it.

Ew, Greg,

that's just weird and gross.

Hey, everyone,

check out Scott Mayhew's

Tyrannosaurus walk.

It's a great way to get

from point A to point B.

That was really mean, Greg.

I think he heard you.

And just like that...

...eight years

of carefully-cultivated

invisibility... gone.

Fin.

Your mom made cookies?

Nah, I won them off

of Ill Phil in a game of tonk.

Got tired of whooping

your sorry ass.

Why do they even call it

Scholar Horizons Biology?

Maybe they should call it

Scholar Horizons Tonk.

Or Sometimes Paper Football.

Heathens.

What up?

Hi, Mr. McCarthy.

Wow.

Earl, fact,

that lunch is garbage.

You're literally poisoning

yourself right in front of us.

At least I ain't eating

no funky ass

seaweed-looking tentacle soup.

Seriously, this stuff

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