Marilyn, Marilyn

Part Five

She has seven hundred and five followers on Instagram and a thousand and three friends on Facebook. She likes reading and boxing, and her Facebook bio says she's worked at McDonalds for three and a half years. Jessica Millar and Kayla Grant feature heavily on both of her feeds, as well as Matthew Fletcher, who she's been dating for the past six months. Lily Jones is, by the looks of it, completely normal, but Jonah's fairly sure that no one's normal. Not really.

'You're not reading anymore?'

Jonah hastily switches off his phone in an effort to hide the fact that he was just stalking her. 'Got bored. I figured I'd read a summary online.'

'Fair enough.' Lily gestures to the empty chair next to him. 'Are you waiting for anyone?'

'Yeah, actually. But feel free to sit.'

Lily does. 'So, who's coming?'

'One of my friends. Who wants to check up on the friend in hospital.' He pauses, and when she doesn't say anything, he continues, 'It's the first time any of them have visited, actually.'

'It makes sense. It must be hard.'

It was hard. It still is. He forced himself to visit the day she was admitted, to accompany Julia so she didn't have to face her dying daughter alone, thinking that it would get easier. That for some reason watching her lie cold and silent in that bed wouldn't always be so hard. Wouldn't always make his breath cut short and skin itch and heart break. But it still does, every time, and he thinks it always will. He can't think of a way of saying this to Lily, a girl who he barely knows, so he just nods in agreement.

Just when the silence is getting uncomfortably long, the door to the waiting room slams open, releasing a gust of wind that knocks over five empty plastic cups on a table.

'God, sorry!' Steph rushes over to pick them up, but as she kneels down the weight of her bag makes it swing over her head and she stumbles to the side. 'Oh, hey, Jonah. Mind giving me a hand?'

Jonah goes over and helps her up while Lily picks up the plastic cups and throws them away. 'Hi, Steph.'

'Hey, J. How're you?'

Jonah shrugs. 'Don't know, really.'

Steph nods knowingly. 'I get that. Same here. Can we see her yet?'

'Her mum's in there. She likes to spend some time alone with her first, but then we can go in. Probably in a few minutes.'

'Sounds good.' Steph breaks the conversation by looking pointedly in Lily's direction, who's still at the bin. 'Who's that?'

'Lily Jones. I met her here.'

Steph opens her mouth to say something, and then closes it. Jonah's not entirely sure what - a quip about how he's moved on so quickly, but then again those kind of comments were always more of Ella's style.

So when Lily comes back and introduces herself, all Steph does is give her a warm smile and say, 'Steph. Nice to meet you.'

'You too, I'm Lily. So you guys go to the same school?'

'Yeah. Since year three, was it?'

'Something like that. What are you here for?'

'My grandpa. Cancer and all.'

Steph nods sympathetically, putting her bag down to pull off her jacket. 'That sucks. My mum was in for a bit a few years ago for cancer as well. They got it out of her in the end, but the process is shit, isn't it?'

Lily agrees with a smile and a nod, and Jonah can't help but envy how well Steph handled Lily's situation compared to his stiff apology. 'He probably won't have to stay here for much longer, though.'

'Oh? That's great,' Steph says. Seeing Lily's expression, she adds, 'Oh. Oh. Right.'

'Yeah,' Lily replies. 'But we're ready for it, you know? I just don't want him to go through any more suffering.'

'I get it. It must be so hard.'

Lily shrugs. 'What else can you do?'

Jonah opens his mouth to say something when Julia arrives, and gives Steph a gentle shove. 'Hey, we can go see her now.' To Lily he says, 'I'm... I'm sorry. I hope things work out the way they're meant to.'

Lily smiles, but he can tell it's forced. 'They always do.'

'I got a text from my dad,' Ella says. 'That's why I wanted to leave the party.'

'Shit,' Jonah replies. It's all he can think to say.

She nods in agreement and pulls out her phone. She bends over for a second, typing, and then hands it over to Jonah with a blank expression. 'So? Do you think that's appropriate?'

Jonah looks at the chat. Sure enough, there's a text from an Alexander Sing the night of Abby's party reading Can we talk?

To which Ella had responded, not yet sent, FUCK OFF.

'How eloquent,' Jonah comments dryly, and erases it, careful not to accidentally hit send, before he passes back her phone.

Ella shrugs noncommittally. 'Well, what do you think I should say? Or just ignore him?'

'I don't know,' Jonah says honestly. 'I really don't. But I don't think FUCK OFF is really going to tell him anything about what he's done to you. What would you tell him, if it was your last chance?'

She rolls her eyes. 'Why does it have to be my last chance? She snaps. Why does death have to make everything so profound?'

'Because we want to matter,' Jonah says. 'We want to count. Our last words are our last chance to matter.'

After a beat, Ella says, 'Okay. You know what I would tell my father? I'd say, I miss you. I hate you. I love you. But I don't want to.'