The Inevitable Nothingness | Jack Hughes

Sixteen | Parker

I SPEND A GOOD FEW DAYS WITH THE HUGHES AND MY mom. Sight seeing in Jack's home town, getting to know his family, trying not to let how much pain I was in show. I think Jack's started to notice, because he's constantly at my side, like, he won't leave me alone. He's forever got one arm wrapped around my waist, holding me up, and I don't miss the way he lifts slightly, making it easier for me to stand.

He hasn't asked any questions, and for that, I'm thankful. I don't know how I would tell him that I'm sort of declining, fast.

The flight home had been considerably more exciting than the first, mostly because I wasn't as terrified anymore. Jack held my hand, it felt like he hadn't stopped holding my hand. He brushed his thumb over my knuckles, pressing gentle kisses to my shoulder as Mom slept beside us, her book she'd previously been invested in still open on her lap.

Everything is good, really good, and for the first time in my entire life I'm completely happy. I have no worries, no fears, nothing that can hurt me. Except the obvious, but I'm trying not to think about that. I don't want to let something that I have to live with, bring me down.

I would fight my way through this, for Mom, dad, Xander, Olive, for Jack.

I was slowly climbing the list for a transplant, slowly getting closer to freedom. I just had to hold on a little longer.

Jack drops me at the hospital even after Mom insisted she could do it, but he brushed her off, even though his schedule was about to become insanely busy with the All-Star game coming up in Toronto and playoffs just around the corner.

He wanted to be with me as much as he could, and selfishly, I wanted him to be with me too. I wasn't ready to say goodbye to Jack yet, not after the past few days we'd had, not after the night we'd spent together tangled under his sheets.

I loved Jack, so much it was stupid.

He walks me to my room, and I yawn the entire way there, exhausted from travelling, even though we'd barely gone far. We're walking back through the ward, my head lulling on his chest as he wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close, when Olive comes storming down the hallway, her face pale, like she'd seen a ghost.

"Woah, woah, Olive," Jack says, reaching for her as she tries—but fails—to brush past us unnoticed. Shes got dark under her eyes and tear stains down her cheeks and if that wasn't a sign that something was seriously wrong, then her next words definitely were.

She turned to me, scowling. "Where have you been?"

I'm surprised when her voice comes out as barely a hoarse whisper, like it physically pained her to speak. I blink at her twice, frowning softly.

"Toronto," I whisper, brushing the stray hairs from her cheeks that were stuck to her skin. "You know that already, Olive, what's wrong? What happened?"

She doesn't tell me, and instead she looks anywhere but my eyes. "He wanted you there, Parker."

I shake my head incredulously, unable to think of a single thing that she could possibly mean, but then I realises I haven't heard from Xander all day, and my heart sinks.

"Who did, Olive?" Jack urges, rubbing her back. "What happened?"

"It's Xander," she chokes, falling down to her knees. "I'm sorry, Parker, he's gone."

Jack turns to me with wide eyes, but I don't notice. Every single wall starts to close in on me, one by one, so quickly I can barely keep up. Frantically, I glance around the room, not believing her, and my eyes fall upon the doorway that leads to his room.

"No," I whisper, but I'm angry, angrier than I've ever been in my life, but not at Xander or Jack or Olive, but at myself. How could I have not been here? How could I have let him go alone like that? "No!"