Unsteady

20 | Hushed Whispers and Shattered Words

FUCK, chemotherapy.

Just fuck it.

Sure, it's killing what's killing me to give me more years in the long run. It saves lives and I understand that. But I hate how it makes me feel. I'm sick of being sick. I'm tired of the side effects.

Stacey had offered to wheel me back in a chair, but I'd refused.

I can take care of myself. I don't need dependence. I'm fine on my own and I have been for the last few months.

Groggy, pale and pretty close to throwing up what little breakfast I had this morning, I shuffle down the hallway towards my room, dragging the IV pole on wheels with me.

I pass Isabella's room.

I watch her sitting on her bed with her eyes glued to her phone.

Simon's door is closed.

I trudge past other rooms, empty and occupied, some of the kids I know, others I've barely spoken to, a couple I've never even met.

I make my way to pass Bobbi's room, the door wide open, when I hear her hushed voice in deep conversation with another.

I stop behind the wall out of view as snippets of conversation drifts out to meet my hearing.

"Well?"

"...his house...huge...shower's nice."

Ollie.

I recognize his voice almost anywhere—his New York accent is not thick like you'd hear in Manhattan, but it's there enough to be distinguishable.

I lean my weight on my IV pole and hone my hearing.

"...happen...?"

"Nearly...into his bed...slept together..."

"...do with Nick now?"

My throat closes up. A coldness floods over me, chilling me to the bone. My chest tightens, and a trembling feeling takes over my hands.

Everything just seems to stop, like for just that second, the world stopped turning.

A hand on my shoulder makes me jump, and Nick towering over me amplifies those terrible feelings.

His brow creases in worry. "What are you doing?"

"N-Nothing," I stammer. I shake my head. "I'm fine. I-I'm fine. I'm just on my way back to my room."

Fear hits me like a freight train when Bobbi and Ollie appear in the doorway of the room.

I note the way Ollie's eyes light up when he sees Nick, and the way a kind of longing smile appears on Nick's face.

Ollie glances to me. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"Yeah, I was just leaving. I mean, I was going to my room."

I shuffle away and keep going when Nick calls after me, asking me if I wanted him to come with.

I blow him off.

I need to be alone.

I dash into my room and close the door. I stumble to the bathroom and vomit.

I sit there on the floor for what feels like hours, resting my head on my arm on the toilet seat.

How could I have been so stupid?

How did I not see it before?

It looked so obvious in just those short seconds when they saw each other.

I push myself to shaky feet and retreat to my bed. I look to one of the corkboards covered with photos on the wall nearby. I pluck off one of the pictures.

It's me, Nick and Matt.

Nick can't be like Matt.

It's not possible.

Nick isn't like that. He wouldn't. He said he wasn't.

I know he's not.

He's had girlfriends. He had Lizzie. And Lauren. And Hannah.

And he had Cassie.

I remember Cassie so well. I remember Nick bringing her home for dinner and it was the first time in a long time that my dad had smiled for longer than a few minutes. I remember hearing them down the hall at night when my parents were out, and those weren't the kind of sounds people who didn't love each other would make.

I brush my thumb over Nick in the photo.

It's not true. I know it's not.

I'm jumping to conclusions. I'm imagining things.

But I have to make sure that's all it is.

I have to.

For my parents' sake.

And for Nick's. 

AUTHOR NOTE: Hey, guys! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider giving it a quick vote! Thanks for reading!