Surviving Faith (The JackholeS, #2)
Page 22
My room was filled to the capacity with worried-looking faces. After I swallowed the nasty liquid like a good patient, Nurse Lipstick-teeth said she’d get the doctor.
"When the doctor arrives, you’ll all have to leave the room," she said in a stern tone to no one in particular before leaving the room. Everyone began talking to me at once as soon as the door clicked shut.
"Hush," Martha silenced all the noise, using an even more stern voice than Nurse Lipstick-teeth could ever dream of.
My eyes met the clock. I jolted up only to be hindered by the pain in my arm and head. “What the hell are you doing here? You need to be at the festival.” Even after my declaration at the time, the boys didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave.
“We aren’t going to the festival, Slick,” Kill said, making my stomach ache even more.
The medicine they administered through my IV, had taken the edge off of the pain, but it still was no match for the boulder.
“What do you mean you aren’t going to the festival? This is your big shot. You have to know you were going to be discovered today!” I practically yelled at them, unable to comprehend why they didn’t see the urgency of this.
“Slick, we weren’t going to leave you in the hospital and go play a gig,” Kill said, sounding exasperated. He moved to the bed, latching onto the hand unconnected to tubes.
“Well, I'm fine. So, get your asses out of here,” I pleaded, trying to make a shooing motion, which was awkward with the IV.
“We already called the Houndmounds and gave them our spot,” Kill said. His voice sounded cool as if he hadn’t just thrown away their big chance.
My eyes searched the room, landing on all the boys. They wore worried expressions, but I had a feeling it was for my condition and had nothing to do with the missed opportunity. How they could look at me with love instead of disdain, after I’d crushed their dreams was beyond me.
“There will be other ins for us, Faith. We are kind of awesome you know,” Jet said, Amy was perched on his lap.
“I know you guys are awesome, and now I feel awful that I messed up your chance.” Tears slid down my cheeks, and when I tried to brush them away, I winced in pain, the IV holding me hostage. Kill used his free hand to wipe the tears from my face.
“Hush, sis, you're more important. Right now, your health is our main concern,” Van said, his arm holding Jessie to his side.
I gave them a thin smile. His words made me feel worse instead of comforting me.
“Besides, Faith, I'm the manager. I'll find us another chance; you just get better,” D added.
My heart swelled with both love and pain.
“You are family, Slick, and family comes first.”
The nurse came back in with the doctor and ushered everyone out before I could protest. My dad kissed my forehead, his face lined with worry. More guilt piled onto my shoulders knowing everyone had stopped their lives to take care of me.
The doctor got straight to the point, drilling me with questions about my symptoms as soon as everyone left. I reluctantly told him about my dependence on Tums. I explained to him it was the only thing that kept my stomach from revolting on me.
His face creased as he listened to my answers. "I ordered some bloodwork while you were out," he said, his voice as crisp as his white lab coat.
"Okay," I replied. Fear wrapped itself around me. No longer would my body allow me to ignore the brutal reality that there was something wrong with me.
"Your blood results came back. You are positive for Helicobacter Pylori. These bacteria have caused sores in the lining of your stomach," he explained.
"I have ulcers?"
His eyes widened in shock when I interrupted his diagnosis, but he recovered quickly. "Yes, you have ulcers. From what you’ve told me, it seems you’ve had them for quite some time."
If my arm didn't have an IV stuck in it, I would have smacked myself on the forehead. It was so obvious. I’d worked myself up so much, afraid of what it could’ve been, I banned my common sense and biology background to allow me to correctly diagnose my symptoms.
While I was berating myself for being such an idiot, the doctor droned on about how he would treat my condition. All this time, I’d thought it was a boulder residing in my stomach, when in actuality, it had been microscopic assholes causing all the trouble.
After a couple more tests, I was finally released with a bag full of pills and strict orders on how to get rid of my lecherous stomach squatters.
As I shuffled out of the hospital, a single figure stood in the waiting room. My dad turned, his face etched with lines of worry. My heart sunk when I searched the room and noticed Kill was absent.
I’d just ruined their chance at fame with my stupidity. If I’d gone to the doctor when my symptoms had started instead of ignoring the pain, this never would have happened. Sadness gripped my thoughts. I may have finally pushed Kill away by single-handedly fucking up his career.
My dad was quiet as we exited the parking lot and headed for home.
“Faith, you need to take care of yourself.” He finally broke into my self-depreciating thoughts as we neared the house. “Remember, it's us against the world, and I don’t think I could make it if my partner wasn’t around to battle with me.”
My eyes filled up with tears, but I didn’t let them fall. “I’m sorry, Dad. You're right. I was worried it was something bad, and I ignored it. It was stupid of me. I promise I'll start taking better care of myself.”
His cop face was firmly in place as his eyes roamed over my face. He must have seen what he was looking for, because he nodded and grabbed my hand, holding it tight.
“Now, about Kill.” He shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat.
Mortification turned my face bright red. Please don't have the sex talk. I chanted in my head.
“You scared that boy half to death. He turned as white as a ghost when you went down. The boys had to convince him driving would be faster than running to the hospital with you in his arms. I don’t want to tell you what to do. The last time I did, you stuck with someone who wasn’t the person I thought he was. It was my selfishness in wanting you to be safe that put blinders on me. I want you to be happy, Faith. I'll be supportive of whatever you decide. I'm extremely proud of the person you’ve become. As long as that boy treats you right, and he makes you happy, then you have my blessing. The way he looked after you, showed how much he loves you. Hell, all of those boys were worried about you. The whole time you were being patched up, they were harassing every hospital worker who walked by to find out how you were doing.”
I laughed picturing the JackholeS pestering the hospital staff. Those boys had become my world. I loved them all, and they deserved to have their dreams come true.
“Thanks, Dad. I'm sorry I ruined Thanksgiving. If it's any consolation, I'm glad you and Martha were here. Those boys needed someone to keep them in line while I was down. They’ve been through a lot, and they take family seriously. They would do anything for the people they love.” Now it was my turn to reciprocate.
Everyone flooded out the door when they heard us pull up.
Kill wrapped his arm around my shoulder, leading me inside. The delicious smells which could only be associated with Thanksgiving hit me as soon as I stepped in the door.
Tears flooded my eyes when I realized they had finished dinner. Denise and Ryan stood next to Martha, explaining they’d come as soon as they heard. The love I felt surrounding me had me turning into Kill's shoulder to soak up the tears streaming down my face.
Martha took charge of the chaos as everyone started talking at once. After all of us were arranged on the living-room floor, Martha handed me a plate.
"I talked to the doctor, and he said everything on your plate is okay to eat." She patted me on the cheek and turned around to make my dad's plate.
“Hah, now you know how I feel. You can’t get anything past that woman," my dad said.
Kill sat next to me, not letting me out of h
is sight. “You scared the shit out of me, Slick. Don’t ever do that to me again,” he whispered in my ear.
Guilt squeezed my heart at the worry I heard in his voice. “I’m sorry. Thanks for trying to run me to the hospital,” I teased.
“He told you about that?”
"He said they had to convince you that you weren't faster than a car." I leaned my head against his shoulder, exhaustion trying to pull me down.
“Well, next time, you should tell me about any aversions to food you have. Shit, the look on your face when you saw those waffles.” He shuddered. “I don’t think I'll ever be able to get that image wiped from my mind for as long as I live. I love you,” he said kissing me on the cheek.
“I love you too. I’m sorry. Don’t worry; it's just waffles. Oh, and red roses, but you already knew that.”
We all stuffed ourselves, thankfully with no further reference to my fall. Even with the rocky start, it had been the best Thanksgiving I’d ever experienced.
I felt my eyelids start to droop. I couldn’t even lift my head from Kill’s shoulder. His phone rang inside his pocket, and after maneuvering around, he was able to get it out without dislodging my head.
“Hey,” he answered.
We all listened to the one sided conversation, which mostly consisted of Kill congratulating whoever was on the other line, along with telling them they were welcome. When he hung up, all of us were staring expectantly at him, wanting to know who he’d been talking to.
“That was Fang,” he answered. “They were offered a tour, opening for the Dongers.”
I saw the disappointment in the boys’ faces, and I wanted to fix everything right then, but I had to be patient it was already too late for my plan.
“Good for them. They'll get some practice at being an opening band, so that when we hit it big, they can open for us,” Jet said, making everyone cheer.
Even with Jet trying to make light of the news, the mood in the room shifted. After a few stifled yawns, Martha and my dad announced it was time for them to go to go back to their hotel room.
"Straight to bed, young lady," Martha said, after she and the girls cleaned up the mess in the kitchen.
"But I wanted to go with Kill to drive you to the hotel."
"No, you won’t be doing that. We’ll see you tomorrow, go get some sleep."
The next morning Kill was already out of bed, making what I had to do easier. I snatched my phone off the nightstand and texted Mr. Hutchingson.
Do what you can
to get the JackholeS
on tour. They can
never know you own
the company
sponsoring it.
I felt no thank you was required. In my eyes, he really wasn’t doing the boys a favor. They were destined to be famous. This was just a way to make it happen faster since I messed yesterday up for them.
Honestly, he would be getting the better end of the deal. His advertising company would be associated with the JackholeS, and he would be making a ton of money from them soon. This way, my conscience would be cleared. I’d promised I would do anything to help the boys make their dreams come true, and this was my way of making that happen.
My phone buzzed almost immediately.
Done
I erased the text as soon as I’d read it. I wouldn't dwell on it. The boys had done so much for me; I wasn't going to regret my decision. I just hoped Kill never found out who I’d sold my soul to for their fame.
Kill and I decided it would be the perfect day to take my dad and Martha sightseeing. We visited all the tourist attractions Portland had to offer. Kill’s phone started alerting him of missed messages as we walked around the Portland zoo.
"Don't you want to check those?" I asked when I watched him switch his phone to silent.
"Nope, I'm around the most important person in my life. Nothing could be more urgent."
Martha's drill-instructor eyes were trained on me throughout the day. "Martha I'm fine," I told her when I stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. My stomach was producing tiny stabs of pain, but it was nothing compared to what it was before.
"I just don't want you overdoing yourself."
"I'll take care of her," Kill said.
Just then a yawn burst out of me. "Alright, I've seen enough of the city for the day. Let's go back to your place for leftovers," Martha exclaimed when she noticed me falling behind at the farmers market.
"I agree," Kill and my dad said, nodding their heads.
When we walked in the door, Jet, D, and Van pounced on Kill. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” D asked, exasperated.
Jet and Van stood behind D, bobbing their heads up and down.
“Sorry, I was out showing Eugene and Martha around Portland,” Kill responded, still headed toward the kitchen. “What’s up?”
Van and Jet were practically quivering with excitement. D was in manager mode, but the flush across his cheeks screamed he was on the verge of losing his cool, just like the other boys.
“One of the promoters from Airline Records called. They want to promote us,” D answered, his voice pitchy at the end. His professional attitude slipped away when he watched Kill's eyes widen in shock. D jumped up and down with Jet and Van. Kill just stared at him, like he hadn’t understood what D just said.
“Wait... What? Are you serious?” Kill's face split with a huge smile, the news sinking in.
“They said if we rock on this tour, they'll sign us for our first album,” D continued.
Kill broke away from me and jumped up and down with the rest of the boys, screaming and high-fiving like little kids. My dad walked over and put his hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him and noticed his eyes were creased with concern.
"They deserve this. I'll be fine," I whispered in his ear, answering his unspoken question.
“How did they hear about us?” Kill asked when they were all spent from their celebrating.
I stiffened at Kill's question, worried I would be caught before the whole thing even started.
D cocked his head to the side, most likely replaying the phone call he’d received. “Honestly, I didn’t ask,” D said, laughing along with the other boys. “I'm assuming it had something to do with The Note, or maybe they wanted to know what we sounded like, since we had to pull out of the Festival,” D surmised, but then shrugged it off.
"Who the fuck cares?" Jet cried out, getting another cheer out of the boys.
“When do we leave?” Kill asked, his smile getting even bigger.
“January first. They'll send the bus out for us, and by then, all the venues will be confirmed. The coordinator is thinking we'll be gone until the end of May.” D’s eyes were almost glazed over from the excitement pulsing through him.
Kill lifted me by the waist and swung me around. Everyone moved back quickly, so I wouldn’t hit anyone with my feet. “See, Slick. I told you there was nothing to worry about."
“Yeah, you never should’ve doubted my managerial skills,” D said with smugness in his voice.
The celebration moved into the living room. As the initial excitement wore off, they bombarded D with questions. D had his phone out as they discussed set lists and wardrobes.
My dad went into cop mode-or father mode. Sometimes it was hard for me to tell the two apart. He started explaining safety precautions they would need to take during their tour. He had the boys’ full attention as he demonstrated crowd maneuvers on our recliner.
Amy flew through the door, screeching as she launched into Jet’s arms and kissing him hard on the mouth.
“How are you with this?” Martha asked me as we busied ourselves in the kitchen warming up left-overs.
“Good, they're amazing. I wish you guys could’ve seen them play. They're special, and they deserve this,” I answered, but my words felt wooden. My heart dropped at the thought of Kill leaving, but it was for the best.
Martha searched my face, and I moved around her, not wanting her to figure out what I w
as hiding. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
My whole body became frozen with shock. “What?... No,” I said my squeaky voice making an appearance.
Martha shook her head, but dropped the subject, calling out into the living room that food was ready.
Later that night, we took my dad and Martha to the hotel. They had to be at the airport by noon to catch their flight the next day. We planned to have breakfast with them before dropping them off .
When we were snuggled in bed, Kill ran his fingers up and down my back, the smile on his face still firmly in place.
“This is going to be so exciting,” Kill said, making me smile at his exuberance.
“I’m glad you're happy.” I nuzzled further into his side, hiding my face in his shoulder.
Kill propped up on his elbow, so he could see my face. “Are you happy?” he asked. His face finally lost the smile he’d been wearing since D had given him the news.
“Hell yeah, I am. This is one step closer to getting your car.”
“I'll buy you a dozen cars after we get signed,” he replied, lying back down.
“I don’t want a dozen cars, just you.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished them back. I sounded like a dream-smashing, whiny girlfriend.
Kill turned to face me. “You always have me. You're it for me.”
My heart stuttered before it began to beat wildly. I wanted so badly to believe him.
“You have one more semester of school before you graduate. Then, we can figure out what we want to do from there. I'll be on the road, rocking the west coast, and you’ll be rocking your last semester. I can't wait to see your sexy ass in a graduation gown,” he said, running his fingers through my hair.
“You might miss it if your tour gets stretched out, but I promise to take plenty of pictures,” I said, while mentally telling myself to shut the hell up.
“No, I promise. I won't miss your graduation.”