Marilyn, Marilyn

Part Seven

'Does it get easier?'

Steph's still holding on to Ella's hand, as gently as if she were holding a broken bird. She's wiped the tears off her face, but her eyes are still bloodshot, matching the scarlet of her hair. Steph always seemed so alive, even when she was tired, all because of that hair. It's jarring to see her now next to Ella, who already looks dead.

Jonah bites his lip, forcing the thought out of his head. 'Sort of.'

Steph manages a small smile. 'You're lying, aren't you?'

'No, it does get better. Kind of. In a... strange way. I mean, you get used to seeing her so small, and pale, and hooked up to all of these machines. But every time, there's still that same feeling. Of wishing you'd done better.'

Steph closes her eyes, as if to force the tears to stay away. 'Of wishing you'd helped her when you could've.'

'Exactly. And that feeling... it doesn't go away. I don't think it ever does.'

Steph's face crumbles, and Jonah moves to hug her, but she shakes her head. 'No, this isn't about me.' She wipes her nose and continues, 'What did we do, Jonah? What did we do wrong?'

She is raw and broken and wants an answer. Jonah can't give it to her; can't tell her how many nights he's stayed up wondering the same thing, how many times he's sat next to Ella's bed and said he was sorry. 'I don't know. I don't think we can think about that now. We just have to think about what we can do for her, once she wakes up.' He pauses. 'If she wakes up.'

'She will. She'll get better.' There's such conviction in her voice Jonah wants to believe her.

'How do you know?'

Steph shrugs. 'Fate, I guess. Everything works out the way it's meant to. And Ella's story... it doesn't end here. It can't.'

'You can't know that for sure.'

A small smile breaks through her face. 'It's called positivity, Jonah. You should try it, for once.'

Steph's smile is so unexpected, and so wholly beautiful, that Jonah can't ruin it. So he says, 'Fine. Once she gets better. Then what?'

'Then? Then we help her heal. We do all the things we didn't, and should've. We'll be there for her, all of us, so she doesn't have to do this alone. She should never have been alone.'

They got to the party and it was dark enough so when he looked at her he could just make out the silvery blonde of her wig and the blood red of her lipstick.

'Where's Ella?' Carrie asked when she saw him. She glanced at Ella beside him. 'And who's your friend? Does little Jonah finally have a date?' Her voice was slick with amusement.

'No,' Jonah said, knowing Ella was smiling next to him. 'This is...'

'Marilyn,' Ella said, raising her voice slightly. 'Nice to meet you.'

'You too,' Carrie said. 'I like your dress. But Jonah, you haven't told me - where's Ella?'

Jonah opened his mouth to reply when Aaron grabbed Carrie around the waist and spun her around, eliciting a surprised laugh. 'Hi,' Carrie said, and immediately planted her lips on his.

Jonah rolled his eyes and bent down so his head was level with Ella's ear. 'So?' he asked impatiently. 'Are you finished with this whole Marilyn thing yet?'

'Are you kidding? Of course not. Come on. Introduce me to everyone.'

'You're joking, right?'

'No.' Ella yanked away so he was forced to look her in the eye. She continued, 'Jonah, I'm Marilyn. Tonight, can I please just be Marilyn? Can you do this with me?' It wasn't like all those other times she asked him to do things. She usually did it hands on hips, eyebrow raised, a dangerous smile on her face,. Usually, when he considered saying no he would think - but saying yes would be so much more fun. But Ella does not look fierce or playful or coy. She looks desperate. Pleading.

So Jonah says, 'Yes. Yes, fine, tonight you can be Marilyn. I'll do this with you.'

And a breathtaking smile took over Ella's - no, Marilyn's - face, and she said, 'Fantastic. Then let's go have fun.'