Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Eighty

       

-Brooklyn's POV-

            "Is there anything we can do to make you smile again?" Rye asked. "We could order a pizza if you want," He said, trying to bribe me with one of my favorite foods.

            "Or go out and get that lettuce burger that you love," Jack added in.

            "I'm not hungry," I said, speaking honestly. I wasn't sure if I would ever be again. "I just want to sleep." It wasn't as if I was tired – It was still early, but everything hurt too much, and I wanted to escape it in the only way that I knew how.

            "I can lay with you, if you'd like?" Rye asked, and usually, I would jump at such an offer, but this time, I shook my head no.

            "I just want to be alone," I whispered.

            "Okay," Rye said, dejected that he had been unable to cheer me up, but I wasn't ready to be yet – just for the night, I needed to soak in the misery, to be aware that this was something that had happened. As much as I knew that I should move on, I wasn't ready to yet. I thought that I'd fucking loved her, and now I wasn't sure if I'd ever meant anything to her at all.

            "We left something cute for you on twitter for when you're ready," he said, leaning over to kiss my forehead before leaving.

            I knew that I'd said that I wanted to sleep, but I didn't feel like moving from the position that I was in, slumped up against the wall on my bed, so I simply gathered up the top blanket around me and watched what was going on from there. It was a theme that had repeated itself time and again over the past month, but it hurt just the same – Life went on. No matter what.

            I knew that, in a way, that was a good thing, but for now, it was as if I wanted the entire world to join me in on this moment. To appreciate that, out of literally nowhere, Stacey had gone and broken my heart, and I was still grasping around for a reason as to why.

            Suddenly my guilt intensified, and I regretted with every fiber of my being that I'd given it up to her on our first date. Thinking about it made my skin crawl and I felt dirty, so I got out of bed, making a change of plans and deciding to take a shower instead. I had hardly gotten in, shampoo already in my hair and the water on scalding hot, when I heard it – A distinct, low rumble.

            I tried to ignore it and go on washing anyways, but now I was distracted and worried, and the second thunderclap caused me to jump into action. I quickly wet my hair, running my hands through it to try and get the shampoo out before turning the water off and jumping out of the danger zone. Could I not even take a shower in peace?

            As I pulled my clothes on, my mood took a turn, changing from sadness into anger – I hadn't done anything wrong, had I? I didn't deserve to be abandoned without a good reason why! My mind was stuck on that fact, continually tripping over how she had simply thrown out the most stereotypical break-up line of all time and then left me hanging.

            Blair would probably be glad that she was gone for good, would tell me that he'd been right all along and that I should've listened to him...But what if this whole thing was really his fault? Would I have been able to save our relationship if I could've spent more time with her, and not been so far away from her all the time?

            My mind fell right back into a ditch as I thought of how she'd looked when we woke up together in the morning. I wondered who else was going to get the pleasure of seeing her sleepy smile now. Was that the actual source of the problem? Had she already found somebody to take my place? What was I to her?

            My mind spun around with too many unanswered questions. I stumbled out of the bathroom, too absorbed in my own thoughts to even be afraid of the thunderstorm.

            "Are you feeling any better?" Jack looked up from where he was sitting on his bunk.

            "No," I answered bitterly. Rye patted the space next to him on his bed, indicating that I come join him, and this time, I didn't turn him down.

            "I'm selfish, aren't I?" I asked once I was positioned next to him, only flinching slightly as a flash of jagged lightning cut across the sky.

            "No," He said, confused.

            "I mean, there's a million things going on. To you, to Liv, to Jack, to Andy..." My voice trailed off.

            "That doesn't make what's happening to you any less of a big deal," He said, turning to look at me head-on.

            "But it does, doesn't it?" I asked. "I shouldn't really be moping about over a girl who probably didn't even care about me in the first place," I said, cracking, trying not to break down yet again.

            "Brooklyn, you have every right to be upset, and you have to believe me when I say that," Rye stated, his tone serious as he tried to push his point across to me. "It hasn't even been a day. Take however much time that you need, but stop trying to blame yourself for things that aren't your fault." I knew that he meant what he said, but, somehow, I couldn't quite believe it myself.

            "But I'm pretty sure that it is my fault," I whispered. "I mean, it was too much of a reach to think that she really liked me, right? Nobody really does. Even the Roadies say that they don't love me. I don't even know if my mum does."

            "Don't say that. I don't ever want to hear something like that coming out of your mouth again," Rye said, his voice fervent and just slightly edged with panic. "You are loved, and I don't ever want you to go a day without thinking that you aren't. Okay?"

            "Okay," I said, staring down at my lap, still not fully convinced.

            "Look at me when you say it," he demanded.

            "Okay," I said, looking up at him.

            "You will get through this," He said, confident in what he was saying. "I promise."

            And I really, truly hoped that he was right.