(4 hour prior)



Juliana's POV



I'm sitting by our pool, kicking my feet in the water aimlessly while I wait for stupid Jameson to get back with my new computer.

The asshole threw it in this very pool that I'm dipping my toes in.

Alright, maybe 'threw' is a bit of a strong adjective to use, but it still ended up in the water nonetheless.

Thinking back, things are so different than they used to be. I mean, for starters, three years ago I would have never been sitting so casually by a pool. Nor would I have almost bitten off Jameson's head for knocking my computer in the pool.

But in my defence, he caught me in the middle of doing Trig homework. Everyone knows that's the worst type of maths.

Wait... So then should I have really thanked him instead?

Either way, it's stupid that I still even have homework. I'm a senior, for fucks sake, I'm graduating this year.

There is no good reason they should still be giving upperclassmen homework on the first day of school. Or the first month, for that matter.

"Juliana!" My head just about comes off of my neck as I have point two seconds to prepare before Jeramiah is crashing straight into my back.

I grunt with the force of it, almost doubling over, choosing to instead roll to the side as I tried to dislodge the nine year old without drowning him in the pool.

Though, I should let him fall in there. The little shit almost took both of us down.

"Get off, J." I complain, still rolling around as I find myself precariously close to taking a dive into the deep end of the pool.

Jeremy, the lovely little shithead he is, simply giggles, latching his tiny arms tighter around my neck. Which feels amazing, let me tell you. The boy may be small, and weigh a total of 50 pounds, but he can fucking choke the shit out of you when he wants to.

I grab his arm, squeezing it and yanking as I detach his body from mine. Practically throwing him onto the ground in front of me, I glare at him from my stomach, though he's unfazed. He just smiles innocently at me, still giggling.

"Juliana, stay with me please."

Eventually I do break, like he knew I would. Nobody in this house can resist his puppy dog eyes, and the fucker knows it.

"What are you doing?" I whisper, narrowing my gaze on him, still smiling.

"I dunno. Wanted to see you." He whispers back in that hilariously cute 'whisper' that all kids have. The one that really isn't a whisper, and in reality everyone in the room can hear what they're saying.

I roll my eyes, flopping onto my back and picking myself up from the ground. I hold out my hand and Jeremy takes it, practically skipping as he drags me back to the house.

He's rambling some nonsense that I've stopped paying attention to at this point.

"Open your eyes, it's not too much longer now."

"Gross!" I hear the scream from the little boy next to me, and snap my head up to see through the glass door that Jameson and his fiancé Genevive are sucking each other's faces off in the middle of the kitchen.

"Gross in deed." I sneer in disgust. That is not a sight I needed to see today. Jeremiah throws open the door with all his tiny might, which barely gets it open all of the way, stomping into the kitchen.

Hearing the commotion his little feet are making, they jump apart, but Jeremy is already standing there, arms crossed, cocking out his hip.

I have to bite down a smirk, knowing that he's probably giving them his reenactment of how a disappointed parent would look at their child.

"Just what do you think you're doing mister?" He demands of Jameson while I shut the door, making my way to get us some drinks.

"Um..." Jameson stammers, scratching the back of his head, face flushed bright red.

"They were about to have sex." I offer helpfully from inside the fridge.

"Juliana!" Jameson exclaims.

"DISGUSTING!" Jeremy yells, causing Jameson to groan as Genevive continues to sit on the counter, letting out an uncomfortable laugh.

I almost feel bad for putting her in this situation, but seeing the look on my brother's face makes up for that.

"What's going on in here?" I hear mom ask annoyed as she storms into the kitchen. I press my lips together as I realise she was probably on a business call. That we just interrupted. Definitely not the right time to be pulling this.

"James is going to have sex with Genny." Jeremiah all but screams, eliciting another groan from Jameson. Poor Genny is sinking into the cabinet, looking like she wishes she could disappear.

That's when Gino and Jamie decide to sneak into the kitchen, a smirk plastered on Gino's face, though Jamie doesn't seem as pleased.

Both of them slip over to where I am, which wasn't hard seeing as Mom was a little preoccupied with scolding Jameson.

"It's okay, Juliana. We're almost done."

"I take it it worked." Gino whispers to our little group and I nod, smile firmly in place. Jamie rolls her eyes, letting out a little huff as she digs into her pocket, pulling out a $20 before slapping into my already outstretched palm.

I laugh as I pocket the money, Jamie already on her way to pout as she stomps out of the kitchen.

Sucks to be her.

"Thanks for the heads up." I whisper to Gino, and he winks at me.

Feeling the heat of what can only be Jameson's glare, I look up to see the murder in his eyes. There's no way he didn't see our little exchange.

Three years ago, that glower would have had me cowering into the corner, borderline panic attack.

Now, my smile just widens as I bring my hand with the money still clasped firmly in my palm. I wiggle my fingers at him, sticking out my tongue as Gino and I make our escape.

That's for breaking my fucking computer.

"Little longer Juliana. Then I promise you can go back to sleep." Elijah says as he oh-so-rudely shakes me back awake for the I-don't-even-know time.

"You suck." I mumble, rubbing away at my eyes. Don't ask me why that will help me wake up, it just will.

I hear Elijah and the other asshole that decided to come into my hospital room before the sun was even up chatting about... something. It sounds a lot like Elijah is declining something, I really don't care.

What I care about is why I can't go back to sleep. So far, nothing had happened that was worth my consciousness.

"-now. Do you understand?" My eyes snap up to Elijah, who is talking, rather irritatedly, at me.

He must see the blank look in my eyes as he sighs in frustration.

"We're going to start pushing the anaesthesia now. Do. You. Understand?" He repeats and I feel myself nodding my head along.

Sure. Sleep, got it.

I try to tell him that he could just slice me open without it and I really won't give a fuck. As long as he just lets me go back to sleep before I fucking stab somebody in the side of the neck with a scalpel.

I don't think he hears me.

On the bright side, when I wake up from a sleep I don't remember slipping into, my throat no longer tickles!

I roll to the side, just about jumping out of my skin when I see Angelo there, reading one of my books.

I love books, they're a nice little escape from reality. A place where I can ride dragons, be a detective, get stalked by a serial killer who has been obsessing over me for years.

Speaking of stalkers-

"What the hell are you doing with that book- with my book?" I squeaked out, jumping into a sitting position and I reached over and tried to snatch the book out of his hands. He just moves his body, blocking me from taking my book back.

"Reading. What else am I to do with a book?" Angelo asks me nonchalantly, flipping to the next page.

"Yes. But it's my book. So give it back." I grit out, going up to my knees and trying to reach around him to grab my book back.

That's when I saw that he was on the lovely page of 427.

"Holy shit, absolutely not. Gimme." I all but yell, leaping towards him in an attempt to detach his hands from the book.

The asshole just laughs, holding the book out of my reach as I lay sprawled over his lap, still reaching for it.

"No, no, I just got to the interesting part. You see, they're in this mirror maze and-"

"LALALALA." I yell, throwing my hands over my ears and squeezing my eyes shut like a child who is avoiding being told off.

Have you ever been so embarrassed that you just want to die? That's this moment. Right here. The moment where my older, male, cousin is holding me down, reading me a smut scene. Out loud. While he doesn't even try to contain his laughter at my misery.

"-like my body is on the cusp of bursting. It isn't natural to feel so goddamn full."

"Oh my god, shut the actual fuck up." I sob, shoving my face into the bed, once again trying to cover my ears. Angelo just lets out a menacing laugh, shoving my hands away.

"He pulls out to the tip, and then he slammed his entire length inside of me, so deep I swear I feel him coming up to my throat. I cry out-"

"Fucking kill my now!" My voice is a choked yell, muffled by the bedspread. When he doesn't listen, I kick my feet, writhing with humiliation. Why the hell did I have to buy this particular book? And why would Gino actually listen when I asked him to bring it to me?

"-starts out slow and forceful. Harsh thrusts, then dragging himself out at a torturous pace before slamming inside me again. Widening his stance, he braces himself against the mirror, and my stomach tightens, sensing the oncoming damage he's about to inflict on my organs."

Angelo lets out a tiny snort at this, and I just about gag at the images inflicted from my cousin's mouth. There are just some words that should never be spoken by certain people. This is one of those.

"-'Tell me, little mouse, have you ever been fucked by a man like me?' You know, for someone who stalks her, he does act like he needs a lot of reassurance. Who asks someone that in the middle of fucking them?"

"Do you hate me or something?" I demand, staring a hole into his chest. My ability to look at his face is long gone. Somewhere along with my dignity that chucked itself out of the room the moment Angelo opened his mouth.

"No. I'd like to think of this as my revenge."

"For what! I've literally not done anything to you." I sob, dropping my face back into the scratchy sheets.

"For you bringing those fucking cougars into our house and getting Justin so attached to them that Uncle Stefano had no choice but to keep them even after you were gone. Despite the fact that those animals are little terrorists."

When I look up this time, I do look him in his eyes, simply because I want him to see the look I am giving him. I no longer need to contemplate on whether or not my cousins are complete idiots, I have my answer.

"You mean the wolves? And- holy shit, back up!" I screech, throwing myself up onto my knees, forgetting about the discomfort it causes. "Are you saying that Uncle Stefano kept them?"

Angelo rolls his eyes, then raises his eyebrows as if to ask if I'm the idiot. The answer is no, by the way. It's still him.

"Yes, Juliana, we kept your dumb little ankle biters. And they're a pain in my ass, not like you care though."

He's right, I really don't care. I'm almost a little giddy that they've been causing Angelo so much annoyment after the little stunt he just pulled. Or maybe I'm just glad because I had half expected them to just put a bullet through their heads the minute I left.

But I still need to figure out a way to get my book away from him, because something tells me he won't hesitate to keep reading.

And so help me if he decides to go back a couple dozen chapters and stumbles across the gun scene. Or the scene where Adeline is "running" from Zade in the woods. Or the cinema scene. Or the- oh my god, I need to pick a better genera.

I'm still pondering ways to steal my book back when there's a knock at the door. "Hi baby." My mom says as she and Dad enter the room, Uncle Stefano trailing behind them.

My eyes widen slightly, and again I make a wild grab for my book. This time, thankfully, Angelo lets me take it, and I reach down, shoving it into my bag.

Yeah, cause that's not suspicious.

Apparently I have a deity to thank because they all chose to ignore my erratic behaviour and just continue into the room like nothing happened.

"Hi little lady." Uncle Stefano says and he comes and hugs me from the side. He's wearing a jacket, which I find a little odd because it's summertime. But I don't ask. Probably an old person thing.

He also smells a little... smokey? Which is weird because he doesn't smoke. But it doesn't smell like tobacco, it's something else. Something I can't quite put my finger on. All I know is he stinks, and the longer he hugs me, my head starts swimming and my lungs ache.

I don't want to tell him to move though, cause then I would have to tell him that he's stinky. And that's mean.

"It feels like it's been a minute, but I saw you the day before yesterday." I say, watching him suspiciously as he rummages through his pocket and pulls out a clump of napkins.

What is it with mens clothing having bottomless pockets? Especially when men typically carry around the least?

I get distracted when he hands the clump to me, and I realise that it's not just napkins. The napkins are wrapped around something squishy. I squeeze it, and Uncle Stefano grabs my fingers, causing me to look up at his questionable gaze.

He takes the napkins from me, unravelling them to reveal a now thoroughly smooshed cookie. I press my lips together, giving him a smile as I lean forward and bite off a big chunk of it. Chewing through the soft chocolaty goodness, I swallow a not yet chewed-up chunk, bringing my hand to cover my mouth.

Believe it or not, I do have some manners.

"Is good." I lisp around the cookie, giving him a thumbs up and a head nod. I hear a snort from Angelo, who's still sitting on my bed.

Keyword being mine. As in not his. As in, why is his ass still on it?

Uncle Stefano cracks a smile, handing me the rest of the cookie. Trying, and failing, to keep the crumbs contained. I've made that a little impossible though.

I happily take it, not caring that I've successfully coated my shirt in crumbs as well as the bed, taking another questionably large bite.

Don't judge me and my cookie eating ways. They say there isn't a correct way to eat it, but if you're not eating a cookie like it's your last, you're doing it wrong.

And yes, I'm talking about you, Jamie.

"Hey Julie." I pause mid bite, mouth still wide open, cooking halfway to my mouth as my eyes pop up to see Elijah has now entered the chat, and brough like, twenty other people with him.

You know, I shouldn't be surprised that he would be the one to interrupt my sacred cookie eating moment. I just sent him a glare, shoving the rest of the cookie inside of my mouth. I'm more than aware that I probably look like a chipmunk right now, but do I care? No. Wanna know why? Because cookies are amazing, that's why.

I stare Elijah down as I finish chewing my delicious delicacy, swiping my chest twice before I give up when I realise nothing short of a vacuum cleaner is going to de-cookiecrumble it.

"Are you done acting like an unmannered savage?" He asks, crossing his arms, looking less than impressed.

"Savage, classic, bougie, ratchet. Sassy, moody, nasty. Acting stupid, what's happening? Bitch. What's happening? Bitch." I'm swaying with every word, my head whipping from side to side. It takes someone releasing what could be a snort, Angelo, for me to freeze, straighten, and remember that there are people in the room.

Obviously, everybody is staring at me. Honestly, I would stare at me too if I saw someone acting like that. Geez, great first impression. They probably think I'm on drugs or something.

"Hello strange people." I squeak out, trying to cover up my embarrassment with a tiny wave, which all of them return, which in turn, eases my nerves a little bit.

"Juliana, please remember to be mindful of where you are and the type of language you're using." Dad speaks up, reminding me that they, too, are also in the room. I turn and give him a guilty smile, and he just shakes his head at me.

Alright Juliana, focus on your new mission. Don't embarrass yourself in front of the room full of doctors.

Actually, scratch that.

Don't further embarrass yourself. You've already succeeded in acting like a fool.

"Hello Juliana, my name is Dr. Omar. I am the head of oncology here at your Uncle's hospital."

You know what feeling, when your entire world stops. Not physically, but figuratively, it seems like everything is frozen. I swear my hearing goes out, and I suddenly feel really light. Disconnected, almost. Things start looking different.

Not different, just different. It's less like I'm living it, and more like I'm watching a 3D movie through someone else's point of view. It's kind of freaky, to be honest.

I stay there, suspended above reality, unsure of what to do. I don't feel like I can move, or speak. I can't do anything but sit there and float as my mind rids itself of any and every intelligent thought.

And then it all comes crashing back. I'm not sure how long it's been. It feels both like hours and seconds, but in reality it was probably more like a minute. Nobody has said anything, nobody moves, or breaths, from what I can tell. They all let me have my moment to process the fact that this dude really just told me that he was from oncology.

"Are you sure?" I ask, letting out a stressed little laugh. To his credit, my dude Omar joins me, nodding his head and giving me a smile. Not a happy one, but not a pitiful one. More understanding than anything.

"Yes ma'am, I'm sure." I nod at him, because what else am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to say something? I mean, an oncologist only sees you for one thing and one thing only.

Well, I mean, technically they can see you for over 200 things, though the most common narrow it down to almost 100. Which really doesn't narrow it down at all. And yes, there are over 200 types of cancers.

Something cool that my teacher taught me last year is that cancer can be picky and subjective. Some can affect all types of people. Some only affect men, prostate and testicular cancer being the most 'common'. And some only affect women. Like ovarian cancer.

Fun fact, men can get breast cancer. They have breast bones, just like women do, theirs are just typically less defined.

And then there are cancers that are more commonly seen in certain races, and even ethnic groups. There's also environmental cancers that can affect anybody who lives in a certain area.

Different types of cancers can also prefer, or be more commonly found, in certain age groups. Such as paediatrics or geriatrics. But that's not to say that an 11 year old can't get colorectal cancer, which is a cancer found in your colon. It's just more common in elderly adults.

"How bad is it?" I ask. For some reason, that's all I want to know. I'm not sure I even want to know what type it is, or where it's located. I just want to know if it's going to kill me. And part of me wants him to say yes.

"How about we back up a step." Dr. Omar says, tapping on his black, what I'm starting to think is hospital issued, ipad. He walks over to me, crouching down by my bed. I lean back into my pillow, trying to take a peek at his screen to see what's so interesting about these ipads that every single person has one.

"Is that me?" I gasp, pointing to the skeleton on his screen. It's all black and white, and looks like a typical skeleton you would see in any science classroom.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," He says, propping the ipod up on the bed where we can both get a good look at it. "This is from your MRI scan. We use this to give us a good outline of your bone formation, as well as to see if we saw any of these."

He points and zooms in slightly on my leg, pointing to a particularly dark spot in my knee. My left knee, to be exact.

"Hey, that's the knee I got stabbed in." I comment absentmindedly, thinking back to when Jameson stabbed me for embarrassing him at my competition. Apparently I purposely fell during my prepared skating to 'humiliate him' in front of his friends.

"Do you have chronic pain? In that knee, I mean." Dr. Omar asks, smartly choosing to ignore my comment about being stabbed.

"I mean, since then? Sort of. Sometimes it hurts, other times it's almost a phantom pain." I'm not really sure how to explain it. Some days it feels like my whole leg is on fire and I'm right back to when Jameson stabbed me. And other times it's a very distant, dull ache. There are even some days when I feel nothing at all.

"That would explain a lot, actually. You see, that shadow there," He again points to the dark spot on my knee. "Is actually a tumour." He explains and I'm honestly not shocked.

"Okay, so what are you going to do about it?" I ask, a little impatiently.

"Well, there are multiple routes we can take. There's radiation, chemo, surgery is also an option."

"Let's do that." I say it so eagerly that I almost interrupt him, but I don't have the patience to feel sorry for it. "Just take it out, and we can be on our way."

Wow, what was so hard about that? Why did they have to come in here acting like it was such a big deal? Like, geez, calm down people. Take out the tumour and call it a day.

I hear who I can only assume is Elijah sighing heavily from behind me, and the doctor in front of me just kind of smiles, amused.

"Well, as wonderful as it would be if that's how this worked, it's not so simple. Since the tumour is embedded in your bone, we'd first want to shrink it a little, hopefully replenish a few of your healthy cells, and ensure that the cancer doesn't try to spread. And then we'd also have to replace that bone with something else. Either another bone in your body, or we could put a rod there."

Alright, that made zero sense. But, I heard bone, shrink, replace, and rod. So I think I got the gist of it. Right?

"However, that's not our only concern." Of course it's not that simple. When is life ever that nice to me? Could they not have just stopped at the knee?

I take in a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what's yet to come. Dr. Omar clicks a button at the top of the screen that brings down a cute little drop down menu with a bunch of hyphenated words and letters that made no sense to me. Kind of like this entire conversation, but whatever.

"This is your PET scan." He says as he clicks a button and the image on the screen morphs. It's still an outline of me, but instead of my bones, I can see black and white outlines of all my different organs.

"That's so cool." I whisper, squinting my eyes as I try to identify the different organs, but giving up when I remember that I'm an idiot and paid zero attention in my anatomy and physiology class.

"I know right? That is pretty cool. This shows all of your anatomy, and just like the MRI, can tell us if something is going on inside of your organs. Can you see where something might look a little off? Now that you know you're looking for shadows?" He asks and I immediately start searching.

My brows furrow and I squint even harder as I try to see what he's talking about. I start from my knee up, because realistically, if there's a tumour in my knee, then anything else should be near that location, right? So maybe my stomach, or my kidneys.

Part of my hopes and prays that it's not my liver, because unlike anything else, that it is a most defiant death sentence. Then again, there's the other part of me that's hoping that's what it is.

But I don't see anything. Everything inside of my abdomen looks perfectly fine, at least to me, so I start to trail my eyes further up, and it actually takes me a moment to notice it.

Sitting atop my lungs, is a very noticeable dot. Almost dime sized. Although I had been looking for a shadow, this was almost opposite to the MRI. Where the shadow then was dark atop of my otherwise white bone, this one was a white blob on top of the otherwise black outline of my lungs.

I'm not sure why, but it almost reminds me of an ink stain, if the ink was white. Though it's not like I've had too many of those happen in my life, it's what I would imagine it looked like.

I silently point to it, and I hear Dr. Omar hum in agreement.

"The funny thing about lung cancer is it can be hard to notice it. Part of the reason that it's so developed is the pesky thing about cancers in the lungs. They are really hard to notice in the beginning stages. Most people might have discomfort, notice a little shortness of breath, but will just chalk it down to being out of shape. Or allergies. But sometimes, it's more than that. And what doesn't help, is that it can spread like wildfire if you're not careful."

He concludes his little lesson, standing up and moving back to the end of the bed, his team standing behind him.

I'm once again reminded of all the people in the room. How Angelo is still sitting on my bed, looking uncomfortable. Though, I think any human interaction makes him uncomfortable.

I know that Uncle Stefano is standing behind me, having backed off so the doctor and I could ogle my scan results. Mom and Dad have moved over to the seating near the window. They're holding each other's hands, and if they keep it up, Dad might just be losing a finger from how tight she's holding onto him.

Dad's face is impassive. I can't really get a reading on it, but he looks a little distant. Like he's stuck in his head. Mom is the exact opposite. Her eyes are red, and she has tear stains going down her cheeks. The maskara I hadn't noticed until now is a little smudged, giving her raccoon eyes.

I can't see Elijah anymore, so I assume he's left the room. He may have had a patient or something that needed him, or maybe he just didn't want to hear the diagnoses he's probably known for days be repeated all over again.

"The cancer you have is actually a little on the rarer end." Dr. Omar states, bringing the room back to attention. "It's called Ewing Sarcoma. It's more common in paediatrics, typically affecting those between the ages of 10 and 20."

Okay... I'm still waiting to hear what makes it so 'rare.' Because if anything, he's just confirming that this is normal.

"Now, what's a little unusual about your case, is that Ewing Sarcoma is usually found in the bones." There it is.

Yep, it makes total sense. Of course. Of course they would find bone cancer in my lungs. I mean, how much sense does that make?

"What we believe happened, was the Sarcoma grew into your knee and became what we call, metastatic. Which means, spreading. So the infected cells spread from your knee, up into your lungs, where they continue to spread and kill off your healthy cells." Dr. Omar is silent after that, again allowing me time to process.

But I don't want to process this. I want to go home. I want to go home, and I want to sleep. I want to sleep and sleep and sleep until this all becomes a distant memory, and I want to wake up in New York. I wish things could go back to how they used to be. I wish I had never gone to stupid Uncle Stefano's house in the first place.

Everything was perfectly fine until he started poking his nose around in my business. If Jameson hadn't sent me away, none of this would be happening, and I could be on the ice right now, free from my worries. I can take one of his beatings. I can't take this.

"Okay." I only speak because I don't think he'll start talking again until I've shown some sort of acknowledgement. He seems like one of those types. The sooner he's done talking, the sooner I can leave this stupid hospital and forget about all my worries.

"There are a lot of different routes we can take to deal with this, and I want to set up a consultation between you and I for a couple days from now so that we can get all those little details worked out. I'll have to double check, but I think you'll be able to go home today." I perk up when he says I can go home. You know, why couldn't he have seen me like, three days ago when I first got here? Would have saved me five days with no sleep.

I don't really listen as they say their goodbyes and make their way out of the room, only catching that they would make sure a nurse was on their way with discharge papers and to finalise everything.

That feeling is back.

I don't feel very attached to reality anymore. Not when my mom finally does burst into tears, hugging me so tight I think she damages another rib. Not when Uncle Stefano finally has enough and tells my dad that maybe he should take her to go pick up some lunch for when we get home. Anything to get her out of the room, really.

Not when Elijah finally comes back with two nurses. One holding what I assume to be the discharge papers, the other rolling a wheelchair with a singular crutch strapped to the back of it.

Not when I get my final vitals check, not when I learn how to shuffle around with the crutch, and get a once through of all the different parts of the wheelchair for once my arm heals.

I don't know why though, by the time my collarbone heals, I should be walking by then. If not with a brace then with the boot. And I sure don't plan on relying on somebody wheeling me around the house 24/7, so I doubt the wheelchair will be used much.

I don't snap out of it until Massimo shows up. He's here to take me home. Home. That's what I need right now. I need to go home so I can sleep. And I need Gino. Gino will know what to do. He can help me.

I'm a little relieved when Massimo tells me I'm going to die. It's a bit morbid, but it's a reassurance that this will all be over soon. I just have to wait it out. I can wait. Jameson taught me the importance of patience. I'm capable of it, I just choose not to use the acquired skill often.

I nod, to myself, or him, I'm not really sure, as I take another sip of my shake. Far out as it is, it's really peaceful up here. You don't see this in New York, that's for sure.

"Everyone dies, Juliana." Massimo continues, mistaking my silence for something other than just acceptance. "Nobody is immortal, eventually that day will come when we all pass. We just have to live life until it does."

"So, you're saying we're all just out here, waiting for death to come knocking on our door?" I ask, looking at him with an unimpressed expression.

"Kind of, yeah." He's already looking at me, crooking an eyebrow when I don't respond. "We could get in a car crash on the way back home and both of us could die. Or a meteor could fall from the sky, right now, striking us into oblivion."

"Wow. You sure know how to give a girl anxiety. Is this why you aren't married yet?"

"Oh, burn. I'm hurt you think anyone could resist all this." He motions to himself, causing me to snort and almost choke on my milkshake. "I am single because I want to be, thank you very much. And you are not changing the subject that easily."

I sigh, rolling out my neck to face the window.

"I'm just confused. I'm not sure how I'm meant to feel about this."

It's silent for a minute, both of us pondering what to do, or say, next.

"Did he outright tell you that this was going to kill you?"

"Well no, but-"

"Then you're not allowed to obsess over it. There are things in life that we can control, and things that we just have to let happen as they happen. This is one of the later." He finalises, sending me a look that shuts me up when I try to refute.

"Are you going to be ready to leave soon? It's nearing 13:30 and we were supposed to be back two hours ago." He teases and I roll my eyes, telling him that I guess we better get going.

This time, Massimo abides by traffic laws, for what I think may be the first time in his life if the unhappiness on his face says anything.

I had rolled my window down sometime when we were hanging out by the cliff, and I never bothered to roll it back up. It was nice. The feeling of the wind in my face, so strong I have to close my eyes to alleviate the sting. I hang my arm out the window, threading my fingers through the imaginary loops that cartoons use to animate wind gusts.

And best of all, it's so loud that it fills the silence of the car, giving us a reason to not talk without it being uncomfortable.

That is, of course, until Massimo gets grouchy and starts rolling up my window, causing me to either move my arm or get it amputated.

"What the hell dude?" I snapped, frustrated that he took away peace.

"Oh get over yourself, dude. You shouldn't have your arm sticking out the window anyway. What if somebody crashed into us?" He grumbles and I huff, ramming the fingers of my good arm through my hair as I once again lean properly against the seat.

Just like I had predicted, neither of us really had anything to say, which left that uncomfortable silence where it felt like we should say something, but nobody really wanted to. And for some reason Massimo has the biggest aversion to the radio.

He just about smacked my hand a new colour when I'd reached for it earlier.

"I'm not scared." I don't speak loudly, however my voice bounces through the silence like a ping pong ball. Just thought it was important to throw that out there, though. I'm not scared, just mildly terrified. Get it right.

"Death doesn't scare me." I continue as Massimo seems to be waiting for me to prove that claim. "It's just... frustrating. That this had to happen now. Like, can I not just be happy?"

Massimo doesn't reply right away. And I'm not sure if I wanted to. I don't know if I truly wanted a response to that question, or if I just wanted to vent a little.

"One day. I'm not going to bother saying soon, but one day you will be happy. So happy that you won't even think about all the bad things that have happened in your life. But until then, you just have to appreciate the little things. Like how amazing of a cousin you have."

I roll my eyes at his not so subtle self-compliment, holding back a yawn. It's been a long morning.

"Hey, no going to sleep in my car." Massimo chides, smacking my thigh oh-so-rudely. "Here, drink Gino's ice cream. It's melted anyway."

Massimo plucks the paper bowl out of the cupholder, somehow avoiding having it spill all over himself as he holds it out to me for about two seconds before he snatches it back, drinking almost all of it in one go.

I gasp, not being able to help the laugh that escaped when he chokes a little.

Serves him right.

"You snooze, you lose." Massimo shrugs, speeding up as he starts to swerve between cars again.

Asshole.



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So... Juliana had cancer. But some of ya'll had guessed that already. Nancy Drew, who? Not sure if that's a compliment to me, or if that just makes me predictable, lol.

NGL, I tried my absolute hardest to not make this chapter completely dark, and as accurate as possible. However, I'm not a doctor, and my knowledge only goes so far, so this is my apology if you saw anything that was incorrect, and please feel free to correct me if you did.

And I'm also sorry for how long it took me to update, I completely lied about the whole, weekly thing, it's been what? Nineteen days?