Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Seventy-Five

-Liv's POV-

Rye had attempted to mac and cheese, and, judging from the happy faces around me, it was the success story of the season.

"See, I told you I wasn't too terrible of a cook!" He stated proudly.

"It's certainly better than that omelet smothered with Nutella was," Brooklyn grimaced.

"Oh shut up, you ate it anyways," Rye pointed out.

"To be fair, Brooklyn will eat anything," Andy added in. I wasn't quite sure what had happened during our short visit to the shops near the park, but once we'd returned, Andy seemed much more lively – Maybe not happy, per say, but at least he was talking again. I wished that I was able to break through the wall that he had put up around himself, but he still wouldn't even look at me. Baby steps, I supposed.

"You should try some," Mikey said, offering me a spoonful, but I politely refused his offer.

"Fine, but you're missing out," He shrugged. It wasn't like I didn't want to try Rye's masterpiece – I was a little suspicious that the boys were hamming it up a bit just to make him feel better – But I wasn't hungry at all, and just the thought of food made me a little sick to my stomach. The last time I'd eaten, it had given me a little burning sensation, and it scared me. I figured I was coming down with something and should avoid solids until I got better – especially Rye's cooking, no matter how good the others boys swore it was.

It was nice to watch them enjoy dinner together, though – I felt like the concert had done a lot to help all of us. Hopefully it would be smooth cruising to good times ahead from here on out.

Jack hit his spoon against the side of his bowl in the teenage boy version of a toast and said, "Hear, hear!"

"Hear what? The awful clacking noise that you're making?" Mikey asked, the room burst into laughter.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. But there is something serious that I'd like to tell you guys," He said, shooting a worried to look to Brooklyn, who gave him an encouraging smile in return. After a few deep breaths, he began speaking again.

"I hate to ruin the mood, but, I don't want to hide my story from you guys anymore. Not when you've been so open and honest with your own." And with that, he told us about his little cousin, Rosie. His voice wavered at times, weighed down with emotions, but he didn't cry until the end.

He rested his forehead in the crack of his elbow for a moment before apologizing.

"Don't be sorry," I said, having to hold back a flow of tears myself.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," Rye said, going over to gather him into a giant bear hug, sharing the fact that they had both lost something special to them. One by one, we all took our turns comforting him.

"I don't know why I wanted to keep it a secret. Maybe because saying it out loud makes it real. But, the concert the other day, it reminded me of her, and..." He couldn't finish his sentence, but it struck me with an idea.

"We could do something to honor her memory," I said, and he looked at me, curiosity and interest brimming in his eyes.

"We could get balloons, and write messages to her with Sharpies on them, and then let them free," I explained. The idea hadn't come out of nowhere – In the time over break when I'd been searching for information about the victims, I'd also found ways that people were honoring the lost lives, and that particular way was one of my favorites. He nodded slowly, a watery smile beginning to make its way across his face.

"I think she would love that," He said, his tone bittersweet.

"I can go get the balloons," Andy offered eagerly. Brooklyn made the move as if to go with him, always one to want to tag along, but Andy whispered something to him, and he let him go on without him.

"I love you guys," Rye said, filling the space of Andy's absence.

"I don't know about you all, but I love that mac and cheese," Brooklyn said, and, just like that, the mood was lifted once again as the room burst into lighthearted chattering. As Brooklyn and Rye began to debate whether or not he should make another box, and Jack left to search the fridge for anything else that was edible, and probably to take a moment for himself, Mikey focused his attention back onto me.

"Are you sure you aren't hungry?" He asked. "I could make you some ramen or something."

"I'm sure. I ate earlier," I said, leaving out the fact that 'earlier' was over 12 hours ago.

"Okay, if you say so," He said, still a little skeptical.

"Hey, you don't need to worry about me so much," I said, giving him a small kiss – But, as a random wave of nausea gripped me as I leaned back, I couldn't help but wonder if he was right to be worried.