emotions, jack gilinsky

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jack gilinsky

my eyebrows raise in surprise as i hop off of my seat, "wait! he moved?"

"yes!" my mom exclaims excitedly, setting a hand on my shoulder before rushing to the doctor.

i felt frozen in my place, astonishment taking over my entire body. he's gonna be okay.

and for the first time in a while, i genuinely smiled. of course, it only lasted a few seconds.

"got a game today?" my dad asks, turning towards me.

"uh, yeah." i reply, "first game. i'm team captain."

"that's my son." he nods before looking back, returning to his emotionless self.

i leave him behind and walk to rafael's room. but before i could reach for the handle, i was shoved by multiple nurses who'd ran in and surrounded rafael.

my eyes widen, "h-hey! what's going on?"

they were all too busy to answer my questions, and my mother was nowhere to be seen. that left me standing in the corner of the room, clueless and helpless.

a rush of relaxation runs down my body as his doctor enters. "can you tell me what's going on?"

"we need to take him to the emergency room." he informs, "surgery needs to be done immediately."

"what—why?"

a nurse turns to me, placing a mask over her mouth. "sir, you need to leave."

before i could object, my mom pulls me out of the room and drags me down the hall. "mom! what's happening?"

"we don't know." she frowns. "but..you've got your first game coming up and i know you can't miss it."

"but i—"

"you need to go." my dad interrupts sternly, "they're probably just fixing a few small things. go, now."

i clench my jaw, looking at him defeatedly and eventually caving in, grabbing my backpack. "call me if you get any news, alright?"

"of course." she assures, "good luck, jack."

"thanks. bye mom."

+

i stand in the locker rooms, feeling like dead weight as i slip on my gear.

i didn't want to be here. i wanted to be at the hospital, with my family.

none of this means anything to me right now. i don't even know what to do, who to tell.

"yo, man!" sammy greets, patting me on the back as he passes me. "good luck!"

i draw on a smile, "hey. thanks, man. you too."

johnson follows him, "hey, bro."

"what's up?" i greet, shoving my stuff into my duffle bag.

"you excited?"

"of course."

"then where's that smile?" he teases, "haven't seen it all day."

i forcefully tug my lips upward, "right here."

"been your best friend since kindergarten." he says, "i can tell between your fake and real smile." i let my smile drop. "something on your mind, man? you know you can always tell me."