Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Ninety-Nine

           

-Andy's POV-

            "Let's pull an all-nighter," I suggested, pulling Jack closer against me and ruffling his hair. "Play some games and whatnot. Have fun whilst keeping an eye on Brook to keep our minds at ease."

            "Okay," Rye nodded. "Let's do it."

            "You in?" I asked Mikey, who had stayed quiet.

            "Yeah. Okay, I guess."

            "Thanks, guys." Jack wiped his hand beneath his nose.

            "Eww! Get a tissue," I laughed and shoved him away from me.

            We'd just been chilling – Mikey was speaking to Liv, I was watching footy on the television with Jack, and Rye was editing a vlog – When Brooklyn had woken up, literally unable to breathe. Rye had been the first to take action – He'd leaped off the bed like Spiderman and went over to Brook, and then given him a good pound on the back, which jumpstarted him back to breathing with a couple of coughs.

            He'd then buried his head into his hands while Rye spoke with him softly and rubbed his back. Blair had come in then, taking Rye's spot to ask Brooklyn how he felt to see if he was getting any better. He was shaking so hard that his teeth were chattering and he was breathing fast, even though he was wrapped in a blanket, and it was warm summer weather. Brooklyn was still intent on avoiding A&E, so they met in the middle with a regular doctor's appointment.

            I passed Blair the thermometer, having settled into a sort of routine looking after Brook, while Rye went to fetch Mikey from the kitchen.

            "Shit." Blair swore once the thermometer beeped. "102. (◦F) He's only going up." Jack had started to get a little nervous beside me then, even more so as we listened to Blair on the phone with the doctor's office.

            "He's been ill for five days now, and it's not getting better, it's gotten worse...he's got a fever of 102 but he feels cold, he says it hurts to breathe and he's very tired and weak...uh huh, uh huh, well..."  And then he wandered out of our hearing range.

            "You okay?" I'd asked Jack, and he'd nodded, eyebrows furrowed, but it was clear that he was shaken up by everything. We both watched Brooklyn – his cheeks were bright and rosy, and he was struggling not to cough because he said that it hurt his chest.

            Blair walked back in, saying "They don't want you to come in when you're sick! I had to bloody fight to get him in, but I managed to book him an appointment for tomorrow morning. I'm depending on you all to make sure that he makes it through the night." It was then that Jack had loudly and suddenly burst into tears. I think everyone was shocked by it – We all gathered around him.

            Since I was closest, I spoke to him first – "Jack? What's wrong?"

            "I don't want him to die," He sobbed. Rye visibly let out a sigh of relief.

            "Brooklyn isn't going to die," He assured him.

            "But Blair just said-"

            "He was joking," Mikey clarified.

            "But how do we really know?" Jack asked, still stressed.

            "We can ask him..." Mikey said cautiously.

            "I didn't mean about that. I mean, like, anyone could die at any time. For, like, any reason. How do we know? How do we know?" It suddenly dawned upon me that the fear that Jack was feeling probably had to do with Rosie.

            "He's 18." I rubbed Jack's shoulder to try and calm him down. "His immune system is at its peak. Trust me when I say that he can fight this, whatever it is. It'll get better once he gets some medication or whatever." He was still crying, but not quite at violently now.

            "What if it's, like, cancer or something? What if the car crashes on the way there? Anything could happen."

            "You're just bordering an existential crisis now. He'll be okay," Rye said. "Right, Brook? Won't you be alright?"  He yelled out.

            He cleared his throat before saying "Yup," his voice scratchy.

            "It's been confirmed!" Rye announced.

            "I don't want to lose any of you guys," Jack sniffled.

            "You won't," I'd said, gathering him into a hug. "You're stuck with us." I knew that I'd been counting myself into that – No more risking my life. No more reckless behavior. No more seriously considering the end-all, no matter how bad things got. No more tunnel vision that the only way to view myself and the world is that way that I do. Or, at the very least, not for now.

            I watched Mikey and Rye search for games for us to play on their phones, and settled in for the long night ahead of us.