“Yes.”
“And maybe not told half the internet I had cancer.”
“Yes.”
“And still grown your hair.”
He smiled.
“Okay.”
She smiled too.
No retroactive perfection.
Just understanding.
At seventeen, Ethan’s classmate Jonah was injured in a car accident.
Students immediately started discussing a fundraiser.
Everyone looked at Ethan.
He laughed.
“No.”
Someone said:
“But you know how.”
“Exactly.”
Instead he said:
“Ask Jonah’s family what they need.”
That was the lesson becoming transferable.
They needed meal deliveries.
Transportation for siblings.
Homework coordination.
Not money initially.
Students organized that.
Better.
Lily noticed.
“You learned.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Proud of you.”
“Gross.”
Teenagers.
Near high-school graduation, the old wig organization
contacted us.
They were creating an educational campaign about peer support.
Would Ethan and Lily participate?
This time, they asked both directly.
Separately.
Good.
Lily said yes under conditions.
No before-and-after cancer glamour.
No language calling her “brave warrior.”
No implication the wig cured emotional distress.
