Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Eighty-Nine

-Liv's POV-

The smell of bleach was so strong that taking breaths in made my lungs feel as if they were burning. My head pounded and I couldn't tell if it was due to the bleach, or the mystery illness that had taken ahold of me full force once again this morning.

I'd been unfortunate enough to walk in on the hotel doing cleaning, but anything was better than the flat right now, so I couldn't complain. I lay sprawled out on the single bed, simultaneously trying to avoid and go over what had happened in my head.

I'd woken up to a pair of soft lips on my own, and, assuming they were Mikey's, I had kissed back, glad that we had worked things out a little the night before. I'd barely had time to register that it was actually Andy before Mikey had come out and exploded all over him. Every time that I closed my eyes, I saw Andy shaking and crying, and Mikey's face going red, his neck vein popping out.

Mikey had always been a kind of relaxed, laid back person, but I had noticed him becoming a little tenser lately. Still, nothing could've prepared more for that. The Mikey screamed at Andy that he had tried to commit suicide for attention was not the Mikey that I knew. He most certainly wasn't the Mikey who had held hands with me on the stairwell and promised me he'd go easy on him. Sure, I had yelled at Andy as well, but it had all been out of love. I didn't know what was hidden behind Mikey's actions.

I didn't like this new, angry, wild version of him, because I had no way to get to him. I loved Mikey, I really did, but things were different. He was changing. He no longer trusted me or let me in on what he was feeling. He could no longer accurately gage what I was feeling. And, the truth was, that hurt.

It made me question New York – Did I still want to go with him? Or Andy? Did I even want to go at all? It made me question living in the flat – Was it too much one on one time? Was it not enough, since we were rarely alone? It made me question our relationship – Did we need a break? Did we need to break up? And what did I even want? What I truly wanted was for things to go back to how they were before this all began, but I could no longer pinpoint the true beginning. The easy time to choose would be the hottest day of summer when we lost Andy and Rye, but now I knew that there must have been things leading up to that.

A few seconds after Andy had left, I could see Mikey come back down to Earth. In the months that we had been together, I had learned him well – I could see the guilt in the corners of his face, in the edges of his eyes as he looked up at Brooklyn, in the way that he held himself, even in the way that his breathing changed. He had come to me first, tripping over his "I'm sorry's," but, for the first time, his touch had brought me no comfort. I had shrugged him off of me and he had let me go, backed off and given me space with a lost and miserable look perched upon his face.

Brooklyn, who was just as confused as I was, dropped down from the top bunk and spoken with Rye in hushed tones. When they finished, Rye practically sprinted out of the room to go and check on Andy, and Brooklyn had sat beside me quietly, legs crossed and his pinky finger stuck in his mouth as he nibbled on the nail. I leaned against him as the tears slipped down silently, albeit for the occasional shudder as the emotions sunk back in.

Mikey had begun to pace around the room, looking like a caged animal, clearly trying to sort out whatever was going on in his head right then. He eventually paused, took a deep breath, and headed back over to me. Brooklyn had wrapped an arm around my waist then, looking at him apprehensively, as if I was ready to protect me if he tried to pull the same thing on me that he did on Andy.

I knew that he wouldn't, though – It was the same thing with all of the fights that we'd had. He wanted to talk, and I knew that we'd have to at some point, if we ever wanted to work thing out, but I wasn't ready yet. I felt like I was going to throw up, so I buried my head into Brooklyn's shoulder instead.

Andy had come back in then, still a little shaky, with Rye following closely behind. I knew that Mikey threw all of the blame onto Andy, but the truth was, we'd been having problems that had nothing to do with him at all. And as for how I felt about Andy? Well, that was a thought that I was trying to avoid. I didn't know what to think about him, in any sense of the manner. It was hard to judge, because I didn't know what he thought about me.

The kiss? It hadn't been a mistake. His lips had met mine with a purpose, and it hadn't felt bad...But I was in love with Mikey. And not Andy. I had only ever thought of Andy as a friend, but now my head spun around and around and around... I navigated my way to the freshly cleaned bathroom and emptied my stomach's contents into the crystal clear toilet bowl.

It had been my choice to leave the flat – As I'd watched Rye fore Andy and Mikey to talk it out, as if I was an object or a title instead of a person, I had whispered to Brooklyn, "I want to sleep along tonight."

Ever willing to please, he had jumped for an easy conclusion, saying, "You can sleep in my bed and I can take the couch."

I'd shook my head, saying, "I mean...I don't want to be in the flat."

Jack had only just woken up then, blissfully sleeping through everything, the lucky bastard. He had helped me pack up my things whist Rye found a cheap nearby hotel. Rye had driven me there to make sure that I was safe, and both Andy and Mikey had looked forlorn and desperate as I'd left.

Now, I forced myself to wash up and crawl back into bed, shivering. I buried my face into the pillow and cried.