In Lauren Myracle's book Thirteen, the main character Winnie has a little brother named Ty. In Ty's first grade class there is a boy named Joseph, absent more days then not.

He wears a knitted sweater and a cap on his head. There's a bottle of hand sanitizer on his desk. He has leukemia.

Before I had read that, I had managed to keep a secret suppressed inside of me for a long time. But as I read that, I felt it break loose.

Far away from Atlanta, Georgia, in New York State, there was a sixth grade class. It was composed mainly of bullies, a best friend, a crush, and a boy absent more days then not.

He had wispy blond hair and small, slanted handwriting. The school board sold wristbands and t-shirts to support him.

He stood up for me when no one else did. And to this day, I don't know what kind of cancer he had.

In Thirteen, Joseph got better. His leukemia was cured.

But there are no happy endings in real life.

On an unknown day of an unknown month, Connor passed away.

My dad didn't even let me wear the shirt anymore to honor his memory. CCMS "Team Connor" was thrown in the trash.

And ever since I heard about his death, I prayed to God that Connor might have gone to heaven.

Three years later, I saw his face
once more.

"I'm in heaven," he said. "I'm waiting for you there."

He showed me there are no happy endings in real life.

But heaven is a whole different story