It's Not Cool | Jonas Brothers

Chapter 58

Frankie's P.O.V.
I wake up to a horrible pain in my head and in my stomach. I sit up and I feel whatever's left from last night's dinner coming back up.

I spring from my bed and sprint to the bathroom. I enter it and fall into my knees in front of the toilet. I start puking up my guts.

It takes forever to empty my stomach. I dry heave a little after. It hurts my throat and I can barely breathe because of it.

My hair starts getting stroked by someone. I turn a little to see mom kneeling next to me.

"Mom?" My voice wavers.

"It's alright." She soothes me. "It hurts, mom." I croak out.

She nods. "I know sweetie. Just a little longer until it's over." She waits for me to finish up dry heaving. I sit there for about five minutes completely still until I'm sure I'm done.

Mom helps me up and supports me back to bed. The commotion woke up dad. "What's going on?" He asks us.

"Frankie is getting sick. I'm bringing him back to bed." Mom explains. I drowsily let her lead me around the upper floor back to my bed.

"Do you need me to get anything?" Dad's fathers instinct kicks in.

"If you could get him some water, the thermometer and a bucket, please." Mom politely asks. Dad leaves his room to grab what my mom asked for.

She helps me back to bed and tucks me under the covers. She puts her hand on my forehead.

"I'm sure you're running a fever. The thermometer will tell us how much." As if on cue, dad walks in with the thermometer, a glass of water and the bucket mom asked for.

"Open up." Mom orders. I open my mouth and she puts the thermometer under my tongue.

We wait for the beep. "101.6. As I suspected, you're running a fever. Here. Take some sips." Mom helps me sit up while dad offers me the glass.

"Not too much. We don't want to upset your stomach." She says. Mom is so gently and caring when we're ill.

"Go get some more sleep, okay? We will see how you're feeling in the morning." She says.

I look at my alarm clock to find it's 3:30 in the middle of the night.

I nod tiredly and pull the covers almost over my head. I'm sweating, but I'm cold.

I wake up later and look at my alarm clock. It's about nine thirty in the morning. Early enough.

Sitting up, I shiver from the loss of contact with my warm duvet. It looks inviting to get back underneath the warm duvet, but I keep myself from doing so. I'm a little nauseas, but I don't want to stay in bed.

I drop myself onto the couch, not feeling the need to do much more. "Morning Tank." Joe chirpily enters the room after his morning run.

I only groan in response. Keep your mouth shut Joe. "Uhm.. Frankie?" He asks concerned.

"I know, I know. I'm sick. Leave me here to die please." Joe chuckles in response and ruffles my hair.

"Can I get you anything?" I knew he cares about me after all.

"I'm not hungry." I answer. "I'll get you a glass of water and some crackers. Alright?" He asks for confirmation.

"Sounds good enough for me." I give him a thumbs up and reposition myself to a more comfortable position.

Joe grabs a blanket from the armrest of the couch and spreads it over me.

Mom walks down the stairs and sees me there.

"Are you feeling any better honey?" She asks me as Joe enters with the water and the crackers.

"Not much, no." I respond. "Alright. Anything I should know? Headache, stomach cramps? Are you dizzy?" She asks me.

I shake my head. "A little nauseas and temperature changes." I explain.

She nods and gets up to give me some more rest.

Before I know it everyone is in the living room with me. They're discussing Nick. He's going to come home in two days. What are we going to do?

Is he going to come home? Is he going to be an inpatient in a mental hospital? Therapy?

He'll have to get therapy after all. He can't not get therapy. He tried to kill himself for goodness sake.

I miss my brother. I miss the Nick I know.

The Nick I know is strong. The Nick I know, knows exactly what he wants. The Nick I know strives for a bright future. To be the best version of himself. Try until you get it right or don't even bother in the first place.

I shifted myself on the couch as I tried to listen to the conversations going on in the room.

I'm too tired to focus.

I fall asleep again on the couch. I get woken up later.

"How are you feeling now, honey?"

I shrug, I don't feel great, but I don't feel like I'm dying either. I'm somewhere in between.

"I got you some more water. Can you sit up for me?" Mom helps me sit up and holds up a glass for me to take a couple of sips from the water.

"Where are Joe and Pippa?" I ask mom.

"They've went out together to give you some silence. I think they mentioned going to visit Nick in the hospital." I nod in response.

"Can you help me to the bathroom?" I quietly ask her. She nods and supports me while guiding me to the bathroom. I do my business and let mom help me back to the couch.

I lie back down on the couch and pull a blanket back over me. I'm still shivering from feeling cold.

Mom hands me some crackers for me to eat. I don't want to eat, but she will shove the crackers down my throat if I don't.

Not that she will do it, but she'll force me to eat. If I ever want to get better, I'll have to eat.

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