Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Forty-Two

-Brooklyn's POV-

I scrolled through my twitter timeline – The roadies' unrest was apparent, and it set my heart right back into turmoil. Some of their observations were scarily spot on, noting how something might have happened at the Slough Station shooting, since we'd been very inactive since then. Others were buzzing about the pictures of Andy, and of what had happened to Rye at the show – I wasn't sure how to soothe them all.

It felt wrong to assure them that everything was fine when it wasn't, but I wanted so badly for everyone to feel better...For a lack of better ideas, I tweeted "♥-Brooklyn". I then stumbled upon a theory which made my heart race – That one of us was dead, and that we were meagerly trying to cover up that fact. I rushed to dissuade that rumour by sending out another tweet – "Nobody's dead, guys. Just enjoying time with our families – Brooklyn", even though to say "enjoying" might've been a bit of a stretch.

I was interrupted after having pressed "Tweet" by a hand waving in front of me.

"Earth to Brooklyn." Ciaran's voice broke my train of thought as the entire table burst into laughter. I hadn't even wanted to go out with my old friends – I was usually so bubbly and social, but overthinking had made me want to shrink inside of myself and away from the world.

My mum, however, had yanked my video game controller out of my hand, saying that I was going out with my friends whether I liked it or not, and that she wanted to see her smiley Brooklyn again. She had then wrapped me up in a hug that lasted a little longer than usual, before giving me a little slap on the bum and forcing me out of my room.

Now I was out – But I wasn't enjoying it. The sun was too bright, their voices were too loud and everyone was far too energetic and rambunctious. It was almost like waking up with a killer hangover. It just seemed wrong that the world continued to go on when so many terrible things had happened. I needed a pause button to take a break and regather myself.

I quickly gave them the middle finger before focusing my attention back to my phone, along with a chorus of "Oooo"s and "Savage!"s. I rolled my eyes and tried to block them out – And it was starting to work until I felt something cold and slimy on my head. Putting my phone on the table, I reached up to feel it – And came back with my hand covered in white, chunky...Ice cream?

I scanned the entertained faces staring at me, feeling my cheeks start to rise with anger. Luke stood off to the side, guiltily holding his empty milkshake cup. I felt a cold chunk of it slip off into the back of my shirt. I pushed away from the table, trembling.

"What the fuck, guys?" I asked, knowing that my irritation was probably a little more than the situation called for, but not caring.

I heard a mumble of something like, "Mr. Big Shot joins a band and thinks he's better than us now." I couldn't tell who it had come from, but it was what pushed me over the edge. I shoved my chair into the table and then left the restaurant, leaving a mix of shocked, confused, and entertained buzzes behind me.

I threw the door open, letting the hot summer sun wash over me. I raked my hands through my hair, pulling out handful after handful of the wet gooky stuff. I threw it to the ground, letting out a noise of frustration as I did so. What did they know about anything that was going on in my life right now?!

In a mindless burst of anger, I kicked the brick wall, and instantly regretted it as the pain shot throughout my foot. It was as I was hopping around, trying to clutch the injury with both hands, when I heard my name being called.

I turned to see Stacey, a mildly concerned look set upon her face.

"You okay there?" She asked, tilting her head in the sunlight to get a better look at me.

"Yeah, just great," I said sarcastically, gingerly setting my foot back on the ground. Now the irritation was slowly fading into embarrassment – I hadn't seen Stacey since grade school. We'd been good friends then, but lost connection and communication as time went on.

"I'm sorry about what they did to you in there," She said sweetly, shuffling around slightly. She rested one of her sneakers upon the other –Something she had done a lot when we were little.

"It's okay," I said, suddenly shy. I could feel all of the traces of my previously consuming anger slip away completely from my grasps.

She stared at me for a second longer, almost as if she had something that she wanted to say. I was about to ask her what it was when she quickly came forward, resting her hands on both sides of my face and kissing me. When we parted, she gave me a smile that lit up her whole face and made her dimples come out before she slid one of her bracelets into my hands, firmly closing my fingers around it.

"Don't forget about me," she said, and then, just as quickly as it had happened, she was gone again.