9 Eight*

Jane's face looked awestruck, unable to believe what she had just heard. Her mouth dropped, almost touching the floor. All strength seemed to drain out of her, making me catch the papers in her hand before they fell flat on the ground. I handed them back to her, but since she was in no shape to hold them in her hands again, I just placed the papers on the table on the right. She was still in some sort of shock, so Dawn leaned forward to face her and snapped her fingers in front of her face.

At that, Jane's soul seemed to return to her body and she closed her mouth. "Cancer? But I thought you were so healthy...."

"Well, that was what I thought, too, until I got this anyway. I have thought of myself as a person who is somewhat immune to most types of viruses. I had never caught a cold, and I made my way through all those kinds of diseases without any severe sufferings." Dawn said, seeming to think back about the times she was the only one healthy from our small group of friends. This was fairly common, since some of them often suffered from mild colds, and I was one of the ones who got sick often. "I got all of those in one go with this cancer, maybe."

Her following laughter was bitter, and I shook my head, disagreeing with her thoughts. "It could just mean you're unlucky. It's not your fault, so don't phrase it like that, please." Jane said, in sync with my thoughts.

She smiled lightly, looking thankful to Jane and me. I returned her smile and peaked from the corner of my eyes that Jane grinned back. Jane seemed to remember something, and said, "Did you say goodbye to everyone as well, or just me?"

"I'm planning to do it all this week, while I stay at the hospital to find the right medication for the chemotherapy. I guess I'll have to tell them by message and ask them to come and visit me at the hospital. You can come to the funeral if you'd like. I still have good memories about our friendship, and I like that you don't try to think about it too much." Dawn said in a suggesting tone, unsure if she would say yes or not.

"I'd like to go, but I didn't think I was invited. Luke still didn't forgive me for my apology to you. I have to admit, though, it was forced. I think I'll go, but I'm not gonna read out loud an obituary. I might write it and put it in the coffin with you, but I doubt I would read it."

"It's Lucas, and I still haven't forgiven you. Just because Dawn accepted your apology, that doesn't mean I forgave you for acting like that. If you had only said that you were a Christian, excluding the fact that you consider yourself to be a bit more open than others, I wouldn't have minded and never forced you to make that speech of yours you call an apology."

I knew my words sounded a bit harsh, but it was so painful to remember that 'incident': I have begun to call it that because I didn't want to explain what had happened with me and Jane to everyone. It would be impossible to do it without outing Dawn.

"Couldn't you be a bit more forgiving? I know you're still hurt - even more than me - about what had happened, but I think it is quite stupid to be angry about that. I'm the actual 'victim'" — she used the air quotes — "here, and I don't mind it one bit. I don't want to have the possibility of you two not even acknowledging each other's existence for an incident this small."

Dawn sounded a bit irritated, and I was surprised she had taken her side instead of mine. I believe this is a first, which means that she was irritated by how I had framed my annoyance. I guess I shouldn't have said that with Dawn still present.

"Well — this doesn't mean I forgave you, Jane — I guess I could control my mind and just forget about that at her cremation," I said, deciding that this was the best option to satisfy me and Dawn at the same time.

"Wait, cremation? I thought you were going to be buried! Your parents will think you're nuts, Dawn." Jane said, unable to believe what I had just said.

"Yeah, but they pretty much disowned me when they found out about the you-know-what so, I don't think they'd mind about it. Besides, it's easier to visit me if I'm cremated since most charnel houses are easier to reach."

Dawn pointed out and I nodded with her in agreement. "It'll make everything less complicated, and use little land. That will help people to stop growing alfalfa in waterless places and make them use less water."

Dawn's comment brought back the memory of a Social Studies class a few months ago. The teacher had shown us a video from Netflix, titled 'World's Water Crisis'. There was a scene of people growing alfalfa in a place that looked like a desert and Dawn was decently shocked at that, unable to believe what she had just seen. It was quite a shock for everyone, though, since as students who know nothing about commerce, I might add — who are aware of the world's current water crisis-it was an action that just isn't understandable.

"True, that'd help the world and get freed from potential Day Zeroes, maybe," Jane commented since she was present in the same class while we had watched the video.

While they were talking more about it, I looked at my watch. It has almost passed 50 minutes since departure from the hospital, and the ride takes 10 minutes, max. "Uh, Dawn?" — She faced me. — "I think we should start heading back. I'll catch the taxi, you can say goodbye to her. It was nice seeing you again, Jane."

So I made my way out, and Dawn soon followed me. I heard her footsteps a bit faster than before, so I slowed my pace down a bit. She walked beside me and held my hand again, leaning slightly to me.

Her actions reminded me of a quote from Albert Camus: 'Don't walk in front of me — I may not follow. Don't walk behind me — I may not lead. Walk beside me — And just be my friend.' And that was close to what I wanted to say to her. Maybe I could put this in my obituary for her.