“Hot chocolate anyone?”
I glanced up from the book I was reading. Everyone gathered around Meghan, their hands reaching out for the hot chocolates in the cup-holders in her outstretched hands. I counted the number of hot chocolates within the two cup-holders. Eight. That was just enough for the whole group. And, from the looks of it, everyone wanted one.
“Bri, you want one?” Dannon murmured from beside me. He had a book of his own open. His, in contrast to my young adult novel, was a children’s book called Mr. Bump. Since I began reading about an hour before, he’d read the little story over twenty times—no joke. I wondered if he’d memorized the words yet.
I closed my book, setting it lightly beside me. I smiled. “Sure,” I said, standing up and stretching my arms. I decided to be nice and not torture him with boredom any longer. I’d offered him alternatives—I mean, there were six other people there with us. But he said he was fine. However, you could tell that he was getting tired of just sitting there. Or maybe he was just really tired. You could never tell with this guy.
Dannon stood up, stretching his arms as well. “You don’t have to stop reading,” he assured me with a smile. “I can just go grab it for you.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sighed, letting my arms fall. “But I think I should stop being anti-social.”
I glanced around at our surroundings. Shelley hadn’t been lying when she said the cabins would be bigger than the lodge. Just the living room was almost the size of the check-in place, filled with recliners, loveseats, and even a three-piece couch. There was a huge plasma flat-screen television taking up almost the entirety of the left wall, making you feel like you were at the cinema even though you were just watching a sitcom. The bedrooms, along with the living room, were huge. There was a smaller flat-screen for all five of them. I wasn’t quite sure, but I thought there was a television in the bathroom as well. You’d think that was crazy, but since there was one in the kitchen, I wouldn’t get rid of the possibility.
“Yeah, if you don’t, Shelley might just pry the book from your hands,” Dannon said with a grin.
I didn’t doubt that. I’d already caught her eyeing the book with distaste. What the girl had against reading, I didn’t know. “True, true.”
“Oh, look the little bookworms are done their book club meeting!” Shelley called, giggling over at us.
Everyone turned, their yearn for hot chocolate suddenly vanishing. Why were they so obsessive when it came to Dannon and me? Weren’t there other couples they could stare at? Why didn’t they obsess over Kyla and Oliver for a change? They were going to date soon, I could tell. The two of them happened to be standing quite close to each other at the moment, their arms brushing. Yep, a relationship was definitely brewing.
“Do you two want hot chocolates?” Meghan asked, holding up the tray with two hot chocolates remaining.
Dannon and I both nodded. “Sure,” we said in unison, taking a step forward and accepting the beverages from Meghan’s outstretched hand. Meghan smiled, spinning around the now-empty cup-holder in her hands. We smiled back, sipping at our hot chocolates.
Kyla detached herself from Oliver and trotted over to us, her hot chocolate secure in her hand. The three of us collapsed back onto the couch, our hands outstretched in case hot chocolate decided to spill. I groaned as Kyla half-landed on me. The girl might have been a twig, but when she landed on you she managed to make it feel like an elephant was sitting on top of you.
“Hello, lovebirds,” she said with a giggle, looking between Dannon and I as she sipped her hot chocolate. She was seated between Dannon and me. For once, I observed, I wasn’t sentenced to the middle seat.
Instead of replying with a greeting, I cocked an eyebrow at her and said, “So, did you ask Oliver to prom yet?”
Let’s see how she liked having her love life thrown out there for everyone to hear.
“Bri!” Kyla hissed, whacking my arm mercilessly. “He’s standing right there!”
Dannon smiled at Kyla, his eyes showing clearly that he was very, very amused. “You like Oliver?”
Kyla groaned, setting her hot chocolate down on the small stand next to the couch and letting her head fall into her hands. “Guys, I swear to gosh if you don’t stop—”
“Why don’t you just tell him?”
Kyla and I both stared at Dannon like he was crazy. Dannon held up his hands innocently, grinning at us. Oh yeah, go ahead and laugh, Dannon. It wasn’t like you didn’t take forever in admitting you had feelings for me. Though, I really had no idea how long he was harboring those hidden feelings. Maybe we both realized at the same time. Now that would be hideously corny.
“Are you crazy?” Kyla demanded, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s not that simple.”
Dannon’s eyebrows rose. “Do you want me to tell him for you?”
I continued to stare at him, my eyes narrowing. What was going on in his head? There must have been some reason why he was so intent on pairing Kyla and Oliver together. My eyes narrowed even further. Did he know something that we didn’t?
“No!” Kyla cried. “That would make me look so pathetic.”
Dannon opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Dannon,” I drawled, eyeing his expression carefully, “can I speak to you in private?”
Dannon smiled and nodded. I silently led him away from Kyla and into the hall near the bedrooms; Kyla watched us in utter confusion as we left. I came to a stop in front of the bathroom, spinning around to face him. Dannon, a smile still on his face, shoved his hands into his pockets and stopped as well, his eyes trained on me. “You wanted to speak to me, madam?”
“What do you know about Kyla and Oliver?” I demanded, pushing some stray hairs out of my face. “You seem pretty intent on pairing them up.”
Dannon shrugged, the smile not leaving. “Last week, Oliver told me he had a crush on her,” he confessed. As though in an amused afterthought he added, “He told me not to tell anyone.”
Ah. So that explained it. “I see,” I said, nodding slightly. I bit the inside of my cheek, thoughtful. There had to be some way that we could get the two of them together. I mean, they both had feelings for each other—how hard could it be? Then again, neither of them looked like they were at all near admitting they had feelings for each other—to each other.
Dannon grinned, his hand slipping into his butt pocket before he pulled out his cell phone. “I have a very devious plan,” he mused, his grin transforming into a mischievous smile.
“Devious?” I cocked an eyebrow. With a smile I said in jokingly, “But good sir, we’re doing a great deed.”
Dannon laughed at my tone, shaking his head as he texted. There was no need to ask who. It was quite obvious that he was texting Oliver to let him know that Kyla had hidden feelings for him. Curious as to what Dannon was typing, I inched closer to him, struggling to see over his shoulder as he typed. When it was deemed impossible, I gave up and moved away. Damn my shortness!
“What did you tell him?” I asked as he closed his phone, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I said, and I quote, ‘Ask her.’”
Very, very creative. “It took you that long to type that?”
“Oh, I’m sorry for not mastering the craft,” Dannon teased. He glanced ahead of us, toward the living room. “Let’s go before Kyla suspects us.”
I shrugged, turning around and padding toward the living room, not checking to see if Dannon was following. “Trust me,” I called softly so that no one else would hear, “she already does.”
When our feet reached the soft carpet of the living room’s floor (the living room and the bedrooms were carpeted; everything else was hardwood), I spotted Oliver perched on the couch with Kyla. He was speaking softly, clearly nervous. His hands kept twisting together in his lap, intertwining and releasing each other over and over in an endless cycle. He kept biting his lip too, a habit that I had when I was nervous. So it seemed he was taking Dannon’s advice. I cocked an eyebrow, tempted to make him check his sanity. Who would ask a girl out just because someone told you to?
Either I’d accidentally said my thoughts aloud, or Dannon could simply read my mind because he murmured, “I told him I would tell him when I was sure that she liked him.” He shrugged. “He didn’t want to ask and be rejected.”
Smart of him, even I had to admit.
We paused at the head of the living room, waiting for Oliver to finish what he had to say. It seemed he was almost done, because Kyla was hopping up and down as she nodded vigorously. My eyebrows rose and a smile twitched at my lips. This was the first time I’d ever witnessed Kyla being asked out—even with the number of boyfriends she’d had beforehand. Who knew she was so giddy?
My thoughts were cut off after Kyla and Oliver shared a long embrace. Oliver smiled, waving slightly to her before heading back to Garner and Shelley where they sat on the other couch. Kyla didn’t take a moment to lose. She rushed toward us, her arms outstretched. I inwardly winced, trying to brace myself for what was to come. This was going to be a hard blow.
No amount of preparation could prepare me for the collision that occurred. Kyla almost knocked me to the ground, and I was pretty sure that she utterly destroyed five of my ribs. I opened my mouth in a soundless gasp, my eyes shooting up to the ceiling. Ouch much? I grumbled just that as I wrapped my arms around her, awkwardly patting her back.
“Brianne, he asked me to prom!” Kyla shrieked in glee as she suffocated me with her death grip on me. “He asked me to be his girlfriend!”
She sounded like a five-year-old, I couldn’t help but notice. Her voice was squeaky, high-pitched. But it would be hypocritical if I blamed her. My voice had been out of whack when I found out like Dannon. So this was completely normal, right?
“Congrats,” I said lightly, smiling at Dannon from over Kyla’s shoulder. He shot me a thumb’s up, making a face so comical that I had to restrain myself from laughing.
Kyla finally pulled away, her smile brighter than I’d ever seen it. Which was saying something, because every time she got asked out, her smile was pretty damn bright. “This prom is going to be perfect.”
| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |
“Tell me,” Shelley drawled, crossing her arms irritably over her chest, “do you naturally suck or are you just doing it on purpose to piss me off?”
I laughed along with the rest of the crew. My eyes flicked between Garner and Shelley, unable to keep a giggle from springing to my lips. Shelley should have known this was going to happen—I mean this was Garner we were talking about. Garner was versing Paula in the game Dance Dance Revolution, and he was failing miserably. He was on the easiest level, too. Garner had begged Paula to let him play, assuring her that he was the ultimate pro. Paula, eager to win, had agreed immediately. I wondered if Garner was actually a professional and was just fooling around to piss Shelley off. Probably not.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Shelley,” Garner called sarcastically, “I thought you were aware that I live to make your life a living hell.”
“It’s working!” Shelley hissed. She glanced around at us, her eyes bright with irritation. “Someone good take his spot.”
“There’s no point,” Meghan replied, shaking her head. She’d gotten herself comfy in one of the chairs, her legs covered in a fuzzy blanket. She stifled a laugh as she brought a hand through her light brown locks of hair. I tilted my head to the side. It was up today, pulled back into a messy bun. Usually she had it down, as though she felt no need to keep her hair back when it looked perfectly fine the way it was. But I couldn’t help but think that it looked really good up. “The song’s almost over, and it’s the third song.”
She had a point. We—meaning Shelley—had a rule: there were three songs to a round, and the person with the lowest score had to give up their position on the mat. I was up next. I’d be lying if I said I was looking forward to it in the slightest. Dance Dance Revolution was rather new to me—and I already sucked at games to begin with.
“Whatever!” Shelley snapped. She sighed, turning her gaze on me, the anger ebbing out of her eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t yell at you when you play. Garner’s just a—”
“Insulting a man in possession of a soda can is not a good idea!” Garner hollered.
I glanced at Garner and laughed. He sat in the middle of the metal mat on the floor, his legs sprawled out over the arrows that he was supposed to be hitting with his feet as he drank his Mountain Dew. I didn’t even have to look at Shelley to know that she was livid, about ready to murder Garner with her bare hands. “Garner,” she said slowly, keeping her voice steady, “get your ass off the mat right now before you destroy the poor thing.”
“Don’t worry about me getting electrocuted or anything,” Garner muttered, setting the Mountain Dew on the floor before hopping up onto the mat. He was just dancing randomly now, not hitting any of the arrows correctly. I dreaded stepping up to his spot. I was going to fail miserably like him, except unlike Garner, I was actually going to be trying.
The song ended and everyone ushered me onto the mat Garner deserted. I groaned, dragging myself next to Paula and shooting a pointed look at the ceiling like it was its fault I was stuck in this situation. Stupid Shelley and her stupid rules that everyone needed to participate. She was like one of those gym teachers I had sophomore year that watched you like a hawk, making sure you participated in every single thing that the group did. If you didn’t show enough effort, points were automatically taken off.
I would not be at all surprised if Shelley ended up being a gym teacher—or a cheerleading coach.
“I’m not very good at this,” I muttered to Paula as I placed my feet in the middle of the mat self-consciously. I hooked my hands under my armpits, feeling oddly exposed.
“Don’t worry about it,” Paula assured, smiling over at me. “I’ll pick an easy one.”
The song that she picked wasn’t very easy at all. I didn’t even know the name of it. It was some Japanese song with some anime as a music video. I couldn’t even really concentrate on what anime it was—even though I wouldn’t have recognized it anyway. No, I was much too busy trying to step on the arrows at the correct time. I was doing a lot better than I thought I would. I actually got a twenty—okay, a ten—combo.
“Woo!” people called out as the song ended. “Go Brianne!”
Way to make me feel pathetic guys.
The second and third song weren’t much different. Paula won, and it didn’t come as a surprise to really anyone in the room. I hopped, thankfully, off the mat, practically running back to my spot on the loveseat. Dannon chuckled, draping an arm over my shoulder and pulling me closer to him. I was tempted to throw it off just to be a brat, but I didn’t. “Nice job,” he murmured.
“You’re mocking me.” I scowled at him. “I did horrible, and we both know it.”
“True.”
I slapped his shoulder playfully, gasping out like I’d been wounded. “How mean!” I exclaimed, widening my eyes theatrically.
Dannon grinned amusedly, rubbing his arm. “Owie,” he said with a pout.
I grinned back, turning to watch as Kyla stepped up to the mat. Oliver called out something corny to her—something so corny that I wasn’t going to repeat it because I fear that I’d puke on you as a result—causing her to blush. I leaned back on the couch, amused that she’d gotten so embarrassed; the game hadn’t even begun and she was as embarrassed as I was during the songs.
Soon enough, Paula had a song chosen and the girls were off, their feet hopping to and from the four arrows on the mat. I watched with a distant amazement, not really comprehending. Both of the girls were on Difficult, their feet moving in unison. It seemed like a choreographed dance routine, except less like dancing and more like hopping up and down. My eyes widened. Why couldn’t I be good like that? Or at least nearly as good? Why did I have to suck at every single game known to man?
I yawned, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was almost eleven. Damn, time sure had flown. And I’d forgotten to call my mom. Oops.
“Is someone tired?” Dannon teased, pecking me on the cheek.
I smiled slightly, nodding. “Yeah,” I admitted, closing my eyes for a moment before opening them again. “I think I’m going to bed.”
Shelley, seeming to have heard me, glanced at the clock. “After this round, I’m going to bed like Brianne! Remember guys, we have to get up early in the morning.”
Apparently, skiing in the early morning was, what Shelley called, “prime-time.” Yeah, okay. If you asked me I think she just wanted to torture us all day instead of letting us sleep in. Yep, that was totally it.
Because Shelley seemed to be the motherly figure, and therefore held authority over the crew, she convinced everyone that it was time for bed after Paula’s and Kyla’s round was complete. Two songs later we were all heading to the bedrooms, chatting about what would happen the next day. Garner and Oliver agreed that they were going to convince Dannon to go down the slope at least once; Dannon assured them that no matter how hard they tried, his butt was not sitting so much as on one of the ski lift chairs. Shelley informed us that Dannon didn’t have to go on the ski lift if he didn’t want to. Why that rule didn’t apply to all of us, I wasn’t sure. I think there was a little bias going on around here.
“Okay, lovebirds,” Garner shouted to Kyla, Dannon, Oliver, and I when we reached the hallway, “we’ll see you all in the morning.”
With that, Garner, Meghan, Paula, and Shelley, split off, going into their rooms. Paula and Meghan shared a room while Garner and Shelley had single rooms. Dannon and Oliver were sharing a room as well, along with Kyla and me. When the sleeping arrangements had been made, and Shelley announced she’d rather crawl into a camel’s skin and then eat her way out than sleep in the same room as Garner, it became pretty obvious that the two of them wouldn’t be great roomies. I could just imagine it now: Shelley and Garner sleeping in the same room and then something ended up on fire. And then we would all die.
Yeah, it was much better this way.
Dannon and Oliver bid us goodbye, and then Kyla and I trotted into our bedroom. I ordered Kyla to close her eyes while I changed, refusing to so much as take off a sock—which I didn’t plan on doing at all; bare feet were so gross—while she was watching. Kyla, with a minimum amount of whining, agreed and tossed a pillow on top of her head. However, she didn’t treat me with the same courtesy. She, being the brat that she was, decided not to warn me when she began stripping herself of her clothing, so I was exposed to her bra and underwear. She was lucky I didn’t throttle her to death.
“So, prom is going to be so fun,” Kyla murmured dreamily as we lay in our beds. I glanced at her and scoffed. Even in the darkness I could see her arms outstretched in the air.
“Mhm,” I murmured through stifled laughter. There was something about her giddiness that I found hilarious. Maybe it was because I was overtired. I got hyper when I was overtired.
“Hey,” Kyla drew out, apprehension clear in her tone, “did you ever find out what Dannon’s appointments are for?”
I tensed, not answering. The question caught me off guard, I had to admit. Kyla never seemed to take interest in Dannon’s appointments, and all of a sudden—in the middle of a trip where no one talked about an appointment or anything—she was asking me if I knew what they were about? Despite my confusion, my mind started to whirl with questions rising to the surface like something appearing out of water. What were they for? Dentist? Check-ups? I really doubted he could have appointments that constantly if they were just check-ups. The thought in itself was ridiculous.
“No,” I replied finally. “I never thought to ask him.”
“Well, of course you didn’t.” Kyla sighed. “Remember at your aunt’s house? He immediately told you that it was just an appointment, no biggy. Why would you question it when he’s so casual?” She paused. “Not that he’s being suspicious or anything.”
I sighed along with her, blinking hard. Dots sprung in front of my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said, uncertain, “it’s not really my place to ask.”
“Of course it is! He’s your boyfriend, Brianne. If you don’t have a right, then who does?”
I stared up at the ceiling. Part of me wanted to ask him. In fact, part of me wanted to hop out of bed, to knock on his door, and not leave until he told me why he always seemed to have to leave for an appointment. But, no. I wasn’t going to force him to tell me. When he was ready, he would tell me. Besides, he wouldn’t hide something important from me . . . right?
| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |
“Dad, we’re home!” Dannon called.
I followed Dannon through his front door, kicking off my shoes haphazardly onto the mat in front of the door. I was so happy to be back, to be away from that dreaded ski resort. If I never went to a ski resort again it would be too soon. If I ever so much as saw a ski lift again—even if it was just on television—I was going to scream. Let’s just say, our second day of skiing hadn’t gone very well. Yeah, Shelley made me go down the hill again. I was miserable the entire time, so scared that I was going to fall that I almost crashed into a tree. Despite that, I didn’t fall. But still. It sucked.
“Hey guys!”
Tom appeared in the doorway, his hands on his hips. He shot Dannon a meaningful look, one that I couldn’t decipher. Thoughts of my conversation with Kyla last night flashed. Were they mentally speaking about an upcoming appointment?
“So, how was your trip?” Tom asked as we headed into the living room. He had lunch set up on the coffee table: a plateful of grilled cheese sandwiches and three glasses of water. I squealed—yes, actually squealed—in delight. I loved grilled cheese sandwiches!
“It went great,” Dannon replied as I raced to the food, grabbing a sandwich and biting into it. I smiled, feeling the heavenly taste spread through my mouth. It wasn’t often that I was able to have grilled cheese. My mom tried countless times, but we all knew how well that worked out. And, sadly, grilled cheese wasn’t something my dad favored cooking either. It was probably because when Garrett and I were ten we thought it would be cool to wipe the cheese all over the walls of the kitchen. It was supposed to be hilarious, and we thought it was, but my mom and dad didn’t share our sense of humor.
Tom and Dannon sat down on the couch beside me, munching on their own sandwiches. We went through the whole weekend, talking about how I fell down the hill and how I sucked at Dance Dance Revolution. Even though there were so many other things about the trip that we could have talked about, Dannon and Tom decided to be hilarious and keep the subject on the moments that would embarrass me the most. Apparently I was the center of attention these days. I didn’t like it much.
“You know, I would rather talk about something not embarrassing,” I muttered as I finished my third sandwich. What? I really loved grilled cheese. . . .
Tom smiled, picking up the now-empty plate and standing up. “I’ll just put this away.” He paused, shooting Dannon another meaningful glance. “Hey, Dannon, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Dannon, a faintly concerned look on his face, nodded. I watched after them as they sauntered out of the living room and into the kitchen. I bit my lip, apprehension tugging inside my stomach. What could they possibly be talking about? What were with their expressions? Why did it feel like whatever they were talking about was anything but good?
Out of nervousness I grabbed my glass of water and sipped at it. It felt wet, sweaty in my hands. I didn’t notice it, however. I could faintly hear dishes clattering, like Tom was doing the dishes while he spoke to his son. I pictured his tone and my eyebrows creased. Whatever this was, it was definitely important. Why did Tom always seem so concerned or upset when it came to Dannon?
I’d become so consumed by my thoughts that I hadn’t realized that I’d downed all of the water inside the glass. I scowled at the empty glass. This was my one way to deal with my nervousness and it was gone. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. This was just great.
And then it dawned on me: an empty cup needed to be brought to the sink right? That was an excuse to overhear what they were saying without looking like I was eavesdropping. It was a pretty low way to go, but hey, I was a little desperate.
I stood up, shuffling quietly toward the kitchen, careful not to make any noise. My conscience prodded me, tugging me to turn the other way, to respect their privacy. But I kept moving. My curiosity drove me to the kitchen’s doorway, toward the sound of Tom’s voice. I had to find out why Tom sounded so urgent. I just had to.
I paused, leaning on the wall just out of view of the kitchen’s doorway, knowing that if I walked in all conversation would cease. What was the point of forcing myself to eavesdrop if I messed it up before I even started?
“—have to tell her, Dannon,” I heard Tom snap.
“I know, Dad.” Dannon’s reply was almost like a groan. A torn, upset groan. It pained me to hear him sound that way. What the hell was going on?
“You’ve been hiding it from her long enough. Your condition is getting worse—”
“I know, Dad!” Dannon shouted.
I froze. Dannon sounded angry. Legitimately angry. I didn’t even know that Dannon was capable of such an emotion, and now his voice was oozing with it. My fingers began to tremble, afraid now. What did Tom mean by Dannon’s condition? And what the hell about it was worsening? And why did Dannon sound angry? Why did my Dannon sound angry?
Something was wrong. So very, very wrong.
“You think I don’t know that I have to tell her?” Dannon continued to shout, his voice rising with every single word. “That I can’t keep this secret from her much longer? What do you expect me to do, walk up to her and say, ‘Oh, hey, Brianne! I have three months left to live!’ It just doesn’t work that way, Dad.”
The glass fell from my hand, shattering into pieces on the floor. My heart plummeted into my stomach, and I suddenly felt like vomiting. I gagged, backing up and almost tripping on the floor. But none of that mattered. All I could hear were four words echoing over and over again within my mind. Three months to live, three months to live, three months to live.
Three. Months. To. Live.