Chapter Two
At last we saw Hazel, she had told her mother that she was going over to the house of the freshly introduced Augustus Waters. This was after Hazel had asked if he was an axe murderer then was won to his opinion by some cleverly placed bull about metaphors. Remember kids, if you increase your vocabulary and use it in an impossibly slick manner, you too can seduce cancer-ridden females into watching action flicks in your home.
According to Hazel, Augustus Waters is an absolutely horrific driver, so much so that she couldn't even think of her own life for thinking of his ghastly driving skills. It is then that Mr. Waters informed her that he failed the driving test three times. It is because of his prosthetic leg that he can't drive well, due to his inability to feel pressure in right leg and his failure to learn to drive with his left foot. We then learn that on his fourth attempt, he was passed because although his driving was "unpleasant," it was not technically unsafe. Hazel calls it out as a Cancer Perk.
We are then informed that Cancer Perks are little things cancer kids get that regular kids don't. I suspect this is because they are, I don't know, deathly ill? Well, isn't this just an injustice. People tell me being a ginger is a disease, but you don't see people giving me video games, free food, and extra hugs just because the color of my hair is more awesome than any other hair color out there. This may actually be the cause of the ridicule I receive. People are so mean when they're jealous of those who have been blessed with the finer things in life.
From there Hazel and Augustus discuss Hazel's condition, rough surgeries and treatment, near death moments, and the experimental drug, Phalanxifor, that practically works on nobody else but her. Way to go, Hazel. You are now part of the group of numerous literary characters who were lucky enough to be in a book because of something impossible that made their life better. I think we can log this under the category of Cancer Perk. Also, why do these drugs always have really long, weird, and hard to pronounce names? Every time I see one, I think I'm in some kind of Fantasy world where elves are immortal, magic is an every day occurrence, and dragon riders can summon their scary, fire-breathing steeds by yelling a simple yet robust, "To me, Phalanxifor!!!"
Hazel tells Augustus that she's no longer in high school because she got her GED and is now taking classes at the local community college. After he makes a smart, flirtatious remark, Augustus is shoved by Hazel, who then tell us how she's swooning on the inside over feeling the tense and amazing muscles in his arm. When Hazel acts like this, I like to call her Sparky Hazel. This is for the simple fact that whenever Hazel has a moment of attraction that causes stupidity, that effectively puts herself in the same position of every female lead from every Nicholas Sparks novel/movie ever made. I guess we can never completely escape the hokey, gushy, infectious parts of human romance. Sigh.
They arrive at the Waters Residence, where upon entering Hazel notices all kinds of sappy sayings placed in various locations all around the house. These, we learn, are called "encouragements." With wise sayings such as "Home Is Where The Heart Is," "Love Is Born From Hard Times," and "Without Pain, How Could We Know Joy?," one can clearly see that someone in the Waters family is a fan of the Hallmark Channel. I suspect this is Augustus' mother, who we meet in their kitchen along with Mr. Waters, both of whom take to calling their son "Gus."
There is where I rant about the names in this book.
Augustus is a cool name. A strong name. Especially if you live in the Roman Empire. When I first learned that this character even had this name, my first thought was "Hail, Caesar!!!" But even then, his full name is no longer the issue when I learned that his parents call him Gus. Seriously? That's one of the top five worst names for a child in the history of mankind, next to Ebenezer, Methuselah, Elvis, and Chad. I can't help but think not of the lean, tall, muscular young man who is our subject, but instead of poor, downtrodden, overlooked and nearsighted Gus Griswold from the 90s cartoon Recess. Or, I think of the fat mouse Gus Gus from Disney's Cinderella. There you go, ladies. Next time you hear our guy called Gus, you will be sure to think of the obese rodent who eats everything in sight and has a knack for getting in the way on top of not easily transforming into a horse like he should.
The four of them discuss Support Group, hospital stays, the Encouragements, and Hazel's lack of love for meat before Augustus announces that they will be watching V for Vendetta. His dad happily offers them the living room TV, yet Augustus insists that Hazel Grace Lancaster needs to see his basement room. Mr. Waters agrees to let her see the room, but asks that they come back upstairs for the movie, much to his son's dismay. And THAT, people, is how you parent a child. Don't let them do what they want. There are such things as boundaries. You, Mr. Waters, are a good father.
Our duo heads downstairs to view all of Augustus' sports memorabilia set on a shelf that goes around the entire room. Apparently, before his leg was removed, Augustus was quite the basketball player. This explains his attractiveness outright. I mean, they only took his right leg. Why shouldn't the guy still be hot? The two talk of sports, his amputation, and useless existential ramblings about sports. Again, Hazel swoons at Gus's use of metaphor and vocabulary. They briefly discuss Augustus's family before the conversation is turned to Hazel.
They discuss her reading interests, and Hazel reluctantly tells Augustus that her favorite book is An Imperial Affliction. Gus asks if there are zombies or stormtroopers in it. When told that there aren't, Gus states that he will read this "terrible book with the boring title that does not contain stormtroopers." So much for the super sensitive and suave Augustus Waters, right? Guess what, ladies? Augustus Waters is only slightly better than the average American male. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm gonna give Mr. Green some more points for realism. Augustus makes Hazel take his favorite book The Price of Dawn, which is based on a video game (more realism), but scribbles something on the title page before handing it to Hazel.
They go upstairs to the living room and begin watching the movie. They sit awkwardly apart during the movie and Hazel even tries the Middle School technique of suggestion by placing her hand in the space between them to alert Gus that it's ok to hold her hand (real smooth, Hazel).When the film ends, Augustus asks if she thought it was great, to which Hazel agrees. She confesses to the reader that this is a lie, and she never understands why boys expect girls to like boy movies because girls never expect boys to like girl movies. Well, Ms. Lancaster, I am prepared to answer that question at this very moment.
First of all, this premise is faulty. Many times I have watched a chick flick, and when I express to the chick that I did not enjoy the flick, I am met with anything from sadness to outright hostility. Furthermore, if a girl I know doesn't like The Avengers or any kind of action movie, I kind of understand. But let's look at this: when we were all growing up as kids, girls could always play with G.I. Joes and Hot Wheels, but boys were kept from playing with Barbies and Easy Bake Ovens. The same goes for many things. A girl can wear a guy shirt and no one really cares. If a guys wears a girl shirt, well, that's just awkward. This is why guys think girls should like guy movies. You like everything else we have, so why not this too? Because of this double standard, I will be visiting the mall tonight in a dress and heels. Take that, gender stereotypes.
They head back to Hazel's house (with Hazel driving). When they arrive, Hazel thinks of how she wants him to kiss her and about how beautiful he is. At this point, we are kind of overdue for Depressing Heavy Metal Hazel. Sparky Hazel is crushing my appitite here. They exchange parting pleasantries, and Gus asks if he can see Hazel again tomorrow, because waiting until then will be more than long enough. Hazel whips this into shape by telling him that she will call him after she finishes his book. Gus asks how this is possible, as he has not given her his number. She tells him that she suspects he wrote it in the book he lent her, to which Gus says, "And you say we don't know each other."
Well played, Gus Gus. Well played.
If The Chapter Had a Title: For this one we're looking for something along the lines of Shutdowns and Stormtroopers, Encouragements, Driving with Prosty, and Sparky and Gus Gus.
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