Chapter 39
brOOKE
My eyes felt like they’d been glued shut, and I struggled to peel them open. My head felt heavy, and my mouth felt fuzzy. I fought the urge to vomit at the taste of stale beer in my mouth.
And what the hell was that beeping?
Finally, my eyes opened into slits. The lights were turned up too high—they made me feel my pulse in my temples. I started to shake my head to clear it, but was met with too much pain to follow through on the movement.
Fighting to orient myself, I realized I was slightly propped up, on a bed. These socks didn’t feel like mine. Not this itchy fabric covering my body, either.
Realization pinged. My senses sorted the details. The beeping, the itchy fabrics, the bright lights, the bed. I was in a hospital room. What. the. hell?
The reunion, I remembered. Volleyball. Cade, taking a call. Beer pong with Bryan. On an empty stomach, no less.
Jace’s taunts rang in my head. Why had I met his challenge? How stupid, Brooke. You know better.
A figure appeared at the doorway to the room, interrupting my mental beratement.
My eyes were struggling to focus, and OW, when I adjusted my body, pain radiated down from my shoulder to my wrist.
I expected to see a nurse enter the room. But when my eyes finally focused enough to see who had entered, it was a tiny woman with a shock of bright-red hair.
Nic.
“Hi—” I rasped out. My throat was dry and scratchy. “You’re here. How did you—?”
“I told them I was your sister,” she said proudly.
Of course she did. Even though my eyes were swimming, Nic’s boldness made me chuckle internally.
“But are you okay?” She couldn’t keep the panic from her voice.
“That was so scary, the way you just—passed out like that,” she continued. “Has this ever happened before?”
“I’m okay,” I told her in what I hoped was a reassuring tone. “My—head. It hurts. And my arm. I’m . . . not sure what happened.”
Now a nurse did come in, fortyish and all business. She filled in the gaps of our conversation.
“It’s a concussion from the fall, plus you somehow sprained your wrist. It must’ve been the way you landed when you fell,” she informed Nic and me briskly.
I met Nic’s searching eyes. I took a sip of water when the nurse offered it, then tried to explain.
“I—faint sometimes, especially when I drink alcohol, or when I don’t have enough water.
I’m on medication that has some pretty serious side effects.
” I took a deep breath and continued. “I have RA. It causes inflammation of the joints. The fainting has happened before. The concussion is new,” I tried to joke.
Nic looked momentarily stunned, then regained her composure. After checking the machines around me, the nurse slipped back out.
“Why didn’t you ever tell us?” Nic asked, her voice more stilted than normal. I hated that she sounded hurt.
“I didn’t know about it in high school. I didn’t get diagnosed until college, and it was in its early stages then,” I told her, mentally processing and sorting through details, attempting to make my jagged thoughts make sense.
“I’ve recently gone up a dose in my medication.
I guess . . . I didn’t realize how much more the alcohol might affect me.
It’s been a long time since I had a drink . . .” I finished lamely.
I felt like a prize idiot for my behavior, and I hoped Nic wouldn’t call me on it. I didn’t need to add wounded pride to my catalog of current injuries.
Nic nodded, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “Is there anything I can do?” she finally asked.
“Actually, yes. Nic, I need a favor.”
“Name it.” I smiled at how willing this girl was—had always been—to be a friend to me when I needed it. I made a mental note to water this friendship more in the future.
“Hand me that bag?” I asked, pointing with my good arm to the crossbody bag that was sitting in a nearby chair. When she gave it to me I unzipped it, pulling out a white envelope.
“You—” I thought for a moment, then started again. “You know where Cade lives, right?” I asked apprehensively. “I need you to deliver something for me. A letter.”