Give Me Your Hand {Kellin Quinn & Jordan Witzigreuter}

Prologue

It was as if nobody was dying.

Kellin sat cross legged on the floor, peeking suspiciously over the handful of playing cards he had fanned out before him, while Jordan possessed only two cards and a smug smile.

“Do you have any seven’s…?” he asked slowly, though the impish glimmer that appeared in his friend’s eyes gave him his answer. He groaned and ruffled through the pile of cards before Jordan was able to get the satisfaction of saying “go fish” for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“Do you have any eight’s?”

“God da—“ Kellin glanced around at the waiting room filled with people. Some of whom were children. “Dag nabbit,” he censored himself. “I quit.”

“Oh common, don’t be a poor sport!”

“For the past four hours I haven’t won a single game. Not Words with Friends, or Eye Spy, or War, or Go Fish. And the worst part is that you aren’t even cheating. I just suck!”

Jordan cleaned up the aftermath of their game and moved from the ground to the seat next to the one that Kellin now occupied. It was followed by silence. This was the first time since they’d arrived at the hospital that they weren’t distracting themselves, and all the fearful thoughts immediately flooded into their heads.

Kellin spoke first. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“Well the doctor said—“

“I don’t care what the doctor said. I want to know what you think.”

It was a dumb question that was already answered both by multiple doctors and hours on Google searching to see if they could find even one thing to contradict the statistics given to them.

“I don’t know.” Jordan finally said in a barely audible whisper. “My heart says yes. But my logic says no.”

“And your gut?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I feel the same.” Kellin admitted gravely. “I haven’t stopped praying for one second, you know.”

“Me neither,” the other replied. “Well actually I did. But just for a second.”

“Why?”

“I prayed that I could beat you at Go Fish.”

Jordan grinned and laughed while Kellin followed suit. Even in the gravest of times, the two of them were able to shine some light on the situation at least for a little while. It was one of the reasons they’d stayed such good friends.

“You’re something else, Witzigreuter.”

The lighthearted moment was short lived though when a man dressed in white approached them. They both looked up at him as the irony of his outfit played through their heads. White was supposed to represent purity and hope, but when they saw him their hearts sunk for they knew it was an overwhelming possibility that the balding stranger would give them news that would shed a permanent cloud of darkness over their lives.

His expression was impossible to read which forced the pair to muster up the courage to ask the question they’d been waiting for, yet dreading for hours.

“So…” Jordan began. “Is she going to make it?”

Alright, so this is actually something old that I found and decided to continue. I hope you like it! Feedback is appreciated :) And if you haven't already, check out my other story "How Could I Say No?"