lucas' pov:
she ducks behind a garbage can and doesn't know i've seen her. somethings wrong with him. she's not herself and i can see it. i creep up to the can and walk around it slowly.
"maya?" i say and i can see her crying. i have never seen maya cry before and it doesn't suit her. she's the strong one. she's always been the strong one. i sit down next to her and hug my knees. we sit in silence for a while just watching the sidewalk and people walking by.
"it was my dad." she says suddenly.
"what?" i say, turning to look at her.
"it was my dad, nine years and he turns up now. why?"
"i don't know and to be honest i didn't even see any resemblance between you to." i say, hoping to make feel better.
"really, we don't look a like?" she asks, turning to me, but i can't read her facial expression and whether she's disappointed or happy.
"um…" i say, prolonging the answer.
"don't worry." she says, wiping her eyes and placing her head on my shoulder. we go back to watching the sidewalk and don't say another word.
we haven't moved from watching the sidewalk and we are still sitting with our backs to the garbage can.
"i have cancer." she says but she doesn't move a muscle.
"okay." i reply, but i'm shocked and inside i am breaking apart because i know i can't save her from this and i haven't kept her safe.
"do you still love me?" she asks, and i realise she just asked if i 'loved' her. she'd never said that before.
"yes maya." i reply and i kiss her head before turning back to lookout the sidewalk, "do you love me?"
"i don't know huckleberry? do you have leukaemia?" she says and i know she is smiling but the word and reality of 'leukaemia' hit me again.
"no." i say.
"aw, sorry, then i don't love you." and we both laugh.