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Thankfully, he answers on the first ring.
“I need you,” I say before he can even get a word out.
The music is blasting on the other side of the line, signaling that Nixon is still at Moore’s.
“Prescott? What the…”
“It’s Jade. She’s not doing okay.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
PRESCOTT
13 years old
“It’s not fair. Why does a dying kid have to be stuck in this place?” Gabriel huffs, crossing his skinny arms over his chest. He lost some weight since he came to the hospital, which is saying something considering, he was skinny even before starting chemo. Nothing tasted good, and he was sick most days. His skin is pale, almost see-through, except for his cheekbones. The bones stand out, a light flush of red spreading over his skin.
“You’re not dying,” I chastise. “Stop saying that.”
“Everybody is dying, Pres.”
I grit my teeth, glaring at my brother. He’s been so flippant about the whole thing. I get it; things are different for him, but there was a fine line between accepting his reality and giving up. Some days, I think he’s doing the latter.
“Well, they’re trying to make you feel better, so stop complaining.”
“I’d like to see you be stuck here for months on end.”
I don’t bother correcting him. I might not have cancer, but I was as much stuck here as he was. If I wasn’t in school or playing football, I was here.
“Want me to pull out the PlayStation or something?”
Our parents brought it here when Gabriel was hospitalized a few weeks ago so he could play when bored.
“What I want is to breathe.” He tilts his head back. “And play football. Damn, I’d kill to feel the rough leather of the football in my hands.”
The longing on his face is so intense I can practically feel it in my bones. I hate this. I hate that he has to be stuck here, so far from everything he loves.
“I could go down. We came here straight from practice today, so the ball is in my duffle bag.”
Gabriel’s head snaps up, his brown eyes lighting up in excitement. “What if we went together?”
“Gabby,” I shake my head. “You know what your doctor said.”
“I know, but it would be just for a few minutes. How much damage can a few minutes out in the fresh air do?” He clasps his hands together. “Please? Just for a little while.”
A knot forms in my throat as I watch him. I should say no. It’s for his own good. But seriously, it would be just a few minutes.
My eyes fall on the IV sticking from his hand. “And what are you going to do about that?”
He has me, and he knows it. A smile flashes on his face as he yanks the needle out.
My mouth falls open as I look around, expecting a nurse to pop into the room and yell at us, but nobody comes. “Are you crazy?” I hiss. “What if somebody comes?”
Gabriel waves me off as he slowly gets to his feet, pain flashing on his face. For all his bravado, he’s hurting. Has been for a while; that’s why doctors wanted him to stay here in the first place.
“It’ll be all right. For the most part, they leave me alone if I don’t call them since they have much younger kids to take care of.”
He grabs the hoodie from the chair and pulls it on. His beanie is crooked, so he tugs it back in place before going to Mom’s bag. She left it in the room when she went to call Dad. They had a meeting with Gabriel’s doctors, but Dad wasn’t here. Lately, he’s been working extra long hours, which I think has more to do with his need to stay away than with the work itself. Gabriel grabs the keys and turns to me, that crooked smile of his flashing on his face. “C’mon, let’s go.”
