Lily stood in our kitchen and looked at him.
“You idiot.”
Ethan smiled nervously.
“Hi.”
“You sold your computer?”
He looked at me.
Traitor.
Then back to her.
“Maybe.”
She started crying.
“Stop
crying.”
“You stop.”
“I wasn’t crying.”
“You are now.”
Teenagers.
Cancer had not completely taken away their ability to be ridiculous.
Thank God.
Then Lily stepped forward and hugged him.
Hard.
For several seconds, nobody said anything.
Then she pulled back.
“You can’t save me.”
The room went quiet.
Ethan’s face changed.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked down.
She continued:
“You keep doing things.”
“The wig?”
“The fundraiser.”
“I was helping.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you mad?”
“Because if I get worse, you’re going to think you didn’t
do enough.”
Ethan froze.
Fourteen-year-old Lily had understood something the adults were only beginning to see.
She took his hands.
“This isn’t a test you can pass.”
