July Promises: Falling for You Series

Chapter Nine: Sickness

that's Laken on the side------>

~Allison

Chapter Nine:

                I sit there for a moment, contemplating the words just said when James speaks again. “I know, Brooke.” He then sighs and put his glasses back on.

I stand back up and walk off, letting him continue what he was doing.

I get my glass of water and gulp it down. Once I’m finished, I go back into the living room, only to find the TV turned off and Tate sitting on the couch in silence. Eli is nowhere in sight. Worry instantly takes over and I ask, “Where’s Eli?” and plop down on the couch.

He seems to just notice me and he looks up. “Upstairs,” he answers and then goes back to sitting in silence.

Over the past hour, I’ve figured out that, as much as he looks like a player, he’s a little quiet, but once you get him going, he’s witty and hilarious.

I stare off at the stairs and listen quietly. I hear nothing at first, but then the sound of someone throwing up fills my ears and I tense up.

“He’s fine,” Tate reassures. I look at him with skeptical eyes, but he’s not looking at me. His eyes are concentrated on the steps, just like mine were. And that’s when I realize that he wasn’t only reassuring me, but also himself.

“How can you be so sure?” I ask quietly.

He shifts in his seat uncomfortably and looks me in the eye. “I’m not.”

I scowl. “Then why would you say something like that?” I ask.

“Because, it needs to be said. Someone has to be positive around here.”

I frown and ask, “What do you mean?”

He sighs and rubs his hand through his hair. “Because Eli keeps talking about death like it’s the most normal thing in the world,” he pauses, “Like it’s not a big deal.” He sounds angry and annoyed. “He’s trying to make it easier on us,” he says softly.

I’m confused now, “How would talking about death like that make it easier for us? Shouldn’t it make it harder because he’s making us think such horrible things?”

Tate says, “He’s trying to prepare us. So that when he really does die, we won’t be as sad because he’s been talking about it more frequently. He’s trying to take the grief away . . .” he trails off in thought.

This only makes my anger grow. How could Eli do things like that? It will only make it harder, not easier. I stand up angrily and head for the stairs. I can feel Tate’s eyes on me as I walk, but I ignore him and continue on.

I hate how he thinks he can ‘make it easier’ by talking about death so carefree. How is he so sure that he’s going to die? If he thinks I will just let him go like that, then he’s got another thing coming.

He’s not going to die, I won’t let him.

I’m so set on this thought, I don’t realize that I’ve passed up the bathroom until I hear the toilet flushing and I stop. I turn back to the door that’s open slightly, letting little light through. I walk slowly to the door and push it open. I gasp at the sight before me.

Eli is lying on the floor with one of his arms draped over his eyes. He looks so fragile that I almost don’t want to touch him, but the worry takes over me and I rush to his side.

“Eli,” I whisper. I pick up his head and set it in my lap. He groans to let me know that he heard me. “Hey, look at me.”

He takes his arm off his face and opens his eyes to look up at me. They’re bloodshot and puffy. “Brooke . . .” his voice is dry and raspy from throwing up.