Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Sick, Rylie. You’re sick.
My eyes droop but not before I push away thoughts of green M&Ms and green eyes and carefully guarded secrets.
“Rylie.”
His voice, though, speaks a language only my sickness understands. It reaches out to him. Begs to be held. Spreads and spreads and spreads.
“You stupid, stupid kid.”
The sickness retreats as fire chases it away. I pop my eyes open and glare at him. My brother. My nemesis. The one I’ll never be like. I try to move my lips, but nothing comes out.
“Get some rest and when you’re better, we’re going to talk.” He rises from the chair beside the bed in the sterile room. My eyes track him as he walks over to Amy. They hug. I wonder how he feels knowing he’s going to be a dad.
Tears leak from my face, but nobody sees.
Nobody ever sees the pain that bleeds from my body day by day.
They go about their lives thinking only about themselves.
Closing my eyes, I seek out the darkness. The bees. The pain. I just want to think about something else.
When a warm thumb rakes across my cheek, I snap my eyes open. Hudson stares down at me. Pain, much like the pain I feel a slave to inside, flickers in his eyes. My big, strong older brother is suffering.
“We’re going to talk about this. We’re going to talk about a lot of things,” he murmurs.
I watch him leave with his perfect pregnant girlfriend latched onto his arm. More tears leak out long after they’re gone.
What will we talk about, Huds?
Will you tell me the secret cure for the sickness in my heart and the blackness in my head?
Of course not.
Hudson doesn’t share his secrets.
And neither do I.
Hudson
“We could always try, though,” Amy says, a sweet smile on her face. “For a moment there, as I peed on the stick, I was hoping I was pregnant. Can you imagine how cute our babies will be?”
I stare at her, numb. “Yeah.”
“Only one more year. Maybe after the summer, we could try. Then, by the time you graduate from college, we’d have a little baby. I wouldn’t need a big wedding, Hudson. We could get one of Dad’s friends at the courthouse to marry us.” She beams at me from across the table.
“I need to go,” I mutter as I stand and toss some money beside our empty plates. “Rylie gets out today.”
Her features crumple and her bottom lip wobbles, but she simply nods. Sometimes I wish she wasn’t so fucking compliant.
“Okay,” she says with false cheer as she slides out of the booth. “Let’s go get our girl.”
I stop her with a hand to her shoulder. “I think I need to spend some time with her.” Alone. I don’t say that word, but I imply it with the look I’m giving her. I don’t like upsetting Amy, but she’s so clingy at the worst times. Rylie almost fucking died the other day and Amy’s planning babies and shit. My sister tried to commit suicide. I’ve lost half my family already. I can’t lose the only person I have left.
“I see,” she replies, tears shining in her eyes. “I’ll just walk back down to Mom’s shop. Go on and get your sister. Maybe I can stop by later tonight and see you guys. How are Becky and Randy anyway?”
“Fine. Yes, that sounds good. Thanks, babe.” I pull her to me and kiss the top of her head. Remorse for what I did to her hits me hard in the gut. I need to tell her about Jada. That I let some girl suck my dick because I missed her.
This could all end.
But would it?
Amy is too forgiving. The moment I tell her, she’ll cry and cry, but then she’ll try to fix us. That makes me feel even worse.
“Talk to you later,” she says as she pulls away and exits the restaurant.
Relief floods through me in her wake. I’d freaked the fuck out when she told me she might be pregnant. The test proved she wasn’t and then the next day she started her period. At least I dodged one bullet in my life.
My mind is a mess. Right now, I should be in class. I should be getting ready for this week’s ball game. I should be worrying about my future with Amy.
Instead, I’m driving to a hospital.
To pick up my sister.
I get distracted on the way by thoughts from the past.
“I’ll call you after rehearsal is over,” Amy says, standing on her toes and brushing a kiss over my lips.
I flash her a smile and then leave her near the choir room door to seek out Rylie in the freshman hall. I’d rather hang out and watch Amy sing with her choir buddies, but Mom insists I get my sister home from school each day when I don’t have practice.