Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter One Hundred and Nine

-Andy's POV-

The letter was, arguably, the most important part of the plan. As much as I could pretend that there was a chance I'd be able to get the words up and out of my throat and out there into the world, in a place where Liv could see them and I could see her reaction, I knew, deep down, that there was no way that I could do that. So the confession, my best kept secret, depended on my ability to touch my pen to a page and write it out.

I had the pen. I had the paper. I had the envelope and check for £9k ready, waiting. Waiting for words that were not coming. My mind had already taken the dive as if it was preparing itself for what I knew was coming – Why maintain a good mood? Skip the mood swings, just get down and stay there. The most efficient way to go about it, surely, even though I knew that that logic was flawed. It could always get worse – And, when I felt like this, I knew that it would.

There were four days until Liv and Mikey left for New York and three days until Liv and I had agreed to meet up and talk before she left. My time to write this letter was ticking down, and yet I still couldn't bring myself to do it. The problem was, I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to do anything, which was a struggle within itself, but – and the same went with songwriting – You had to be in just the right mood, just the right vibe, to truly do it, and do it well. I didn't want to scribble down any old sentence, even if it would get the same message across. I'd kept this inside for years, so if I was finally getting the bravery to let it out, then I wanted to do it right.

I took a break from staring at the page intently, as if the words would write themselves, and focused on Brooklyn instead as his phone's ringer broke the silence. I watched as he ended it abruptly, only to pick it up when it rang again. He seemed nervous, a bit antsy, and, undeniably, hopeful. I knew, without even having to ask, that it was Stacey who had called.

If I was being honest, I'd never really liked her – She'd seemed a bit too comfortable, too confident and cheery. Then again, that could just be me not trusting anyone who wasn't as fucked up as I am. Once she'd broken his heart, my suspicions had only been confirmed, and I hoped that he wasn't about to take her back.

Brooklyn was a great guy, spectacular in almost every aspect – He was gorgeous, charming, sort of dumb in a way that came of as cute. Girls fell all over him, and he would be much better off with one of them then with a girl whose love he would always be chasing. I knew how much that sucked.

I watched his face drop as he gripped the phone, silently reacting to whatever it was she was saying. I watched him slowly lower it, face still set into an expression of shock and dismay. That was when I abandoned the letter writing task that I wasn't getting done anyways to go join him.

"What's wrong?" I asked, a little happy to focus on fixing his problems instead of my own. Instead of answering me, he buried his head into his palms and began to rock slightly back and forth.

"Brook?" I asked, worried now, as I reached out to steady him. He spoke, but his words were muffled by his hands. I heard them anyways, but...There was no way that that was right, no way that it could be true.

"What?" I asked, hoping that he would clear it up, that I'd simply heard him wrong – But, no such chance. He uncovered his face and cleared his throat once, twice, three times, before speaking.

"Stacey's pregnant." His voice quivered as he spoke.

"Wait, what?!" I asked, incredulous, forgetting about my initial objective, which was to be calm and supportive. "You had sex?" I dropped my voice down lower. I watched his Adam's apple bob up, and then down, as he nodded guiltily.

"When? Not the night she stayed here, I hope. Why wouldn't you use protection?!" I admonished him. It was one thing to have sex, and a completely different thing to take a risk that seems so small and inconsequential in the moment, but could completely fuck up your life, just like that. And, with the way that things were, it wasn't just Brooklyn's life that would be going downhill – Because of the band, and Blair's rules, he would be dragging all of us down with him. And it was all for a girl who looked nice and drew him in, but then crushed his heart the moment that she got it.

"I don't know," He said, a little breathless, clearly starting to panic now. "It was over the break. It all happened so fast. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." He had begun to pace, stressfully running his hands through his hair and gripping little pieces as if he was about to pull them out.

"Sit down," I said, my voice softening around the edges, trying to prevent him from having a total breakdown – Although, if any situation called for one, this was it. He plopped down hard, his breathing ragged and uneven.

"How am I supposed to have a kid when I'm still a kid myself?" He asked, starting to get a little teary-eyed.

"I don't know," I admitted honestly. "But, Brook?" I waited until he turned and looked at me. "You don't have to do it alone, okay? I'll be there for you. Our break is coming up soon and you can try to sort some shit out then, yeah?"

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and whispered, "Yeah." He looked back up at me, and his eyes were big and wide. He looked more like a child to me than he ever had, and I didn't want to think about him being a dad. He would be a great one, for sure, but not now. It was too soon. He was too young. We all were.

"Don't tell the others, okay?" He asked.

"I won't," I promised. And I meant it – If there was one thing I was good at, it was keeping secrets.