The Fault in Our Pants: A Parody of “The Fault in Our Stars”
The Fault in Our Pants: Chapter 2

Augustus Waters drove horrifically. That is, just like any handicapped person. We’d gone perhaps a terror-filled mile before I said, “How’d you pass the driving test?” Then before Augustus could even answer, I realized it and answered my own question: “Cancer Perk.”

Cancer Perks are the things cancer kids get that regular kids don’t: signed photos from celebrities, extensions on late homework, undeserved drivers’ licenses, and so on.

“Cancer Perk indeed,” Augustus said. “And proud of it.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “You failed the driving test three times, and then on the fourth try, you thought you’d failed again, but the instructor found out you have cancer and said something like, ‘Your driving is unpleasant, but it isn’t technically unsafe’ and passed you?”

“Actually, I never even had to take the test,” Augustus said. “On the online license application there’s a box you can check if you have cancer, and if you check it they just mail you your license, no questions asked. There’s not even an expiration date on it,” he said, as he sailed through his third straight red light.

“No DMV for the rest of your life? Sounds pretty great,” I said. The rest of his life. How long did Augustus have, given that he had osteosarcoma? To help figure this out, I went with the old standby: “So, are you in school?” Parents generally pull a kid from school if they don’t expect him to be around for long.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m at North Central. A year behind, though.”

“Oh, because the illness interfered with your studies.”

“No, I just flunked a bunch of courses. How ‘bout you?”

I considered lying. But in the end I told the truth. “My parents withdrew me three years ago.”

“Whoa, three years?”

I gave Augustus the quick explanation. When I was fourteen, my lungs suddenly started filling with fluid. It looked like the end, and my parents were called to my room in the ICU to say goodbye. But at the last minute my cancer doctor, Dr. Maria, got a hold of this new experimental cancer drug Cancera, and the Cancera miraculously cleared enough fluid out of my lungs to let me live. Yay, Cancera! It was a true cancer miracle, and I’ve been taking Cancera ever since. The only side effect is that I shit up to twenty times per day.

“So have you thought about going back to school?” Augustus asked.

“I’ve started taking classes part-time at MCC,” I said. MCC was our community college.

“A community college girl,” he said, nodding. “That explains the aura of barely-above-average intellectual ability combined with well-below-average work ethic.” I shoved his arm playfully.

We pulled into the driveway of his house, and I followed him inside. On the wall of the entryway was an engraved plaque of a cat with the caption I Can Has Cheezburger? The entire house turned out to be festooned with such cat-based homilies. Above the coat rack was a framed painting of a cat sleeping under a napkin with the caption Shhhh…I is nap-kin. A pillow in the living room featured a cat wearing an ugly cat sweater with the caption I TOLDZ you, I already HAZ a coat! “My parents call them Cat-couragements,” Augustus explained. “It’s supposed to sound like ‘Encouragements.’ They’re everywhere.”

We went into the kitchen, where Augustus’ mom and dad were making enchiladas. (A piece of stained glass by the sink showed a cat chewing on a marijuana plant with the caption Taste good but…I CAN’T FEEL MY WHISKERS!!!)

“This is Hazel Grace,” Augustus said, by way of introduction.

“Just Hazel,” I said.

“Hi Hazel,” Augustus’ mom said. “So Augustus, how was Isaac’s Support Group?”

“He came back with a chick,” Augustus’ dad said. “I’d say it was a success.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Augustus said.

“How about you, Hazel?” Augustus’ mom said. “Do you like your Support Group?” I tried to figure out if my response should please Augustus or his parents. I went with the latter.

“I love it,” said Hazel. “The people there are all really great.”

“Well I’m glad you like your Group,” said Augustus’ mom. “Every time we used to go to a Support Group with Augustus, the people were all douches.”

Augustus opened the door to the basement. “Hazel and I are gonna go watch a movie.”

His dad shook his head. “Not in the Fuck Cave. Living room.”

“Dad!”

“Oops, I mean – not in the basement. Living room.”

Augustus sighed. “Fine. Can I at least show her the Fu– I mean basement?”

“Sure,” Augustus’ dad said. “As long as you don’t also show her your penis.”

Augustus’ mom playfully hit Augustus’ dad with the dishrag, and Augustus led me downstairs.

***

The basement was a huge, cool bedroom. A shelf running halfway around the room was covered with basketball memorabilia: trophies, game balls, and signed sneakers.

“I used to play basketball,” Augustus explained.

“Wow, you must’ve been pretty good,” I said.

“Actually, I was pretty bad. But as a Cancer Perk people let me score whenever I got the ball. One game I scored 270 points.”

“Well even if you weren’t that good,” I said, “it still must’ve bummed you out when you got sick and had to stop playing.”

“I stopped playing even before I got sick,” Augustus said. “One day I was shooting free throws – just standing in the gym, shooting balls at the basket, again and again. All at once, I had this revelation: I was doing something completely pointless. What could possibly be a bigger waste of time than spending countless hours tossing a spherical object through a toroidal object? Hey, let’s play a video game!”

Augustus ran over to his tricked-out video game setup. There was a 60-inch plasma TV, two expensive-looking gaming chairs, a bunch of gaming consoles, and what looked to be easily over a hundred games.

I laughed. “What about the movie?”

“Sorry – I was having an ADD moment,” he said. “So now we’ve talked about me. But what’s your story?”

“I told you my story,” I said. “At fourteen my lungs–”

“Not your cancer story. Your story. Like, what are your hobbies?”

“Sitting on the couch and watching TV.”

“I don’t know if those count as ‘hobbies,’” he said. “What’s something else you like to do?”

“Um. Reading?”

Augustus winced. But then he brightened. “Well they say that if both people in a couple like all the same stuff, it’s kinda boring, right?”

I had no idea about anything pertaining to couples, but I said, “Right.”

“Favorite book?” he asked.

My favorite book, hands down, was An Imperial Affliction, but I didn’t like telling people about it. Some books are so good, so special to you, that not only do you not want to tell anyone about them, but you want to destroy all other copies of them. I have personally been responsible for the destruction of over 3,000 copies of An Imperial Affliction.

Even so, I told Augustus about it. “My favorite book is this book called An Imperial Affliction.”

“Does it have lesbian sex scenes?”

“No.”

“Then what’s so good about it?”

What was so good about it is that its author, Peter Van Houten, seemed to get what it’s like to have cancer more than anyone ever had. He got what it was like to be me. But this seemed a little too heavy, so I just said, “Trust me, it’s really good.”

Augustus smiled. “I am going to read this terrible book that does not contain lesbian sex scenes, and also requires reading to read it,” he said. “All I ask in return is that you read this.” He spun around and pulled out a book from the mountain of video games.

“I thought you hated reading,” I said.

“I do,” he said. “But there’s this one author whose books are so amazing, so fantastic, so incredible, that even I love reading them. This author’s name…is John Green.”

He handed me John Green’s Looking for Alaska.

“It’s that good, huh?” I asked.

“Not just good. The best. I’d loan you my copy, but it’s the kind of book you really need to purchase for yourself, either in fine bookstores everywhere or online at www.amazon.com. And I do mean purchase. While I usually see nothing wrong with illegally downloading all kinds of mass media entertainment, I am convinced that in this one case, the books of John Green, everyone should legally purchase their own copy. And by ‘own copy,’ I mean new and not used.”

“You mentioned John Green has written other books,” I said. “Where can I replace more information about these?”

“I’m glad you asked. You can replace out about John’s other books at www.johngreenbooks.com. While you’re there, be sure to check out John’s super-cool vlog videos! And let me emphasize, what I said about Looking For Alaska holds for John’s other amazing books as well: if you want to read them, you should purchase your own, new copy.”

“Okay. I will buy my own copy,” I said, and handed him back his copy of Looking for Alaska. In doing so our hands briefly touched. “Cold,” he said, pointing at my hand.

“Not cold. Underoxygenated. Due to my crappy lungs.”

“I love it when you talk medical to me,” he said. “Almost as much as I love John Green’s follow-up to Looking for Alaska, Paper Towns.” He took my underoxygenated hand and led me up the stairs.

***

“What movie should we watch?” I asked, as we sat down on the couch in the living room.

“Have you seen Black Swan?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Really? It’s quite good, and you look just like Natalie Portman in it,” he said.

I blushed. “Black Swan it is,” I said.

We watched the movie with several inches of couch between us. I did the totally middle-schooly thing where I put my hand on the couch about halfway between us to let him know I’d consider giving him an hj, but not a bj, at least not today, although it could be in the cards if he bought me dinner, or at least a $5+ dessert. An hour into the movie, Augustus’ parents brought in some of their enchiladas, which were white people enchiladas but still tasted pretty good.

Black Swan is about this crazy ballerina played by Natalie Portman who gets so stressed out competing for a part that she starts having hallucinations where she stabs people and has lesbian sex. Augustus said that to “get the movie” you have to watch the lesbian sex scene multiple times, so we did. After the movie, Augustus told me I also looked like famous actresses from other movies. To prove this, he showed me the Denise Richards lesbian sex scene from Wild Things, the Naomi Watts lesbian sex scene from Mulholland Drive, and the Ivana Fukalot lesbian sex scene from Muff Munchers 3.

“Thanks for the film festival and enchiladas,” I said. “But I should probably get home. Class tomorrow.”

“I’ll grab my keys,” Augustus said. As he left to get the keys, his mom came in and started cleaning up the enchilada plates. She stopped and pointed at the wall. “I just love this one, don’t you?” I looked and saw what she was pointing at: a cat photo with the caption I are future cat, which showed a cat with a lime on its head that had been cut out to look like a space helmet.

“Yes,” I said. “It’s lovely.”

I insisted on driving Augustus’ car home, with Augustus riding shotgun. We pulled up outside my house, and we kind of just stared at each other. If you ignored the horrific stumpy leg, he really was beautiful.

“Hazel Grace,” he said – I didn’t correct him again because I was starting to suspect he might be dyslexic – “it’s been a true pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Ditto, Mr. Waters.”

“May I see you again?” he asked, with a touch of cute nervousness.

I smiled. “Sure.”

“In like an hour? I can wait in the car.”

“Patience, grasshopper,” I said.

“Hour and a half?”

I laughed. “How ‘bout I call you when I finish the wonderful John Green novel Looking for Alaska, available for immediate download on Kindle at www.amazon.com?”

“Sounds good. How long do you think that will take, like two hours?”

I liked Augustus Waters. I really, really, really liked him. I liked the way he used “metaphor” totally wrong. I liked that he drove his car even though he was physically incapable of doing so safely, putting innocent civilians at risk every time he took the wheel. I liked how he played video games all day instead of studying for his classes. I liked that he went to his friend’s support group to hit on girls. I liked that instead of asking me out on a proper date somewhere in public he immediately asked me back to his house. I liked that he was so desperate he couldn’t even wait a day to ask me out on a second date.

“I can’t give you an exact time, but I can promise you this,” I said. “I will read it as fast as I’ve ever read a book in my life.”

And I meant it.