Neighbors 1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Brooke

"It basically starts out as no big deal, at least for now, I don't think it's a big deal. My newlywed husband Teddy (I suppose he goes by Ted now that we are out of college and hasn't been Teddy since he was 21) Sanders and I are on our honeymoon at an Americanized resort in Mexico, kind of lame to go to Mexico and not have the authentic experience of actually being in Mexico, but hell Ted and I are kind of shallow that way, hell we've always been shallow, I mean we were prom king and queen in high school after all and pretty much the Alphas in our Sororities/Fraternities.

Despite all the drama we've gone through in college, me sleeping with Ted's best buddy Pete, (Which I'm definitely not proud of) Ted getting a series of new girlfriends, Ted was down on his knees proposing to me. It was kind of pathetic now that I think about it, okay really pathetic we'd hardly seen each other in four years, We were both doing our own modeling gigs on opposite sides of town. Then one night after a couple of beers I assume, Ted called me up and said he really wanted to see me. He was drunk, I knew this wasn't for real. I usually don't get nervous around other people, especially not Ted, but we hadn't seen each other in literally ages, so yeah I was nervous about him dropping by at my house, or I'm sorry not dropping by at my house, he actually expected me to drop everything I was doing and drive to the bar and come see him and give him a ride home, since he was so drunk he couldn't even walk straight./p 

"Sure" I had said, not knowing what else to say. It turned out that Ted had, had a terrible breakup with a girl named Victoria. He was hunched over crying and I imediatly knew that it was bad. I placed my hand on his shoulder. Beer bottles and upside down shot glasses and a shattered martini glass sat in front of him. "I'm so sorry for your loss" I said rubbing his back, "Girls can be such bitches can't they? Not that boys are much better" Ted stared up at me in a drunk stupor, "Hey" I said, "You're really drunk, let me take you over to my house we can talk about it there"

"I'm never speaking to her again" He slurred.

"Hey gimme your phone" I had said, "Victoria's number, let me delete it"

"Fine by me" He slurred, I scroll down and do not see the name Victoria, but I do find the name Vychtouriyah,/p

""This must be her" I said "Is that seriously how the girl spells her name?"

"Yeah" Ted said, "Really is" He slurred. "Wow" I said, "What is she from Narnia or something?" "She's from Russia. She's a Russian model in fact" Ted slurred. "C'mon" I said lifting his arm over my shoulder. "Let's go

As soon as we got home, guess what Ted went right for. Guess! That's right, he went straight to the liquor cabinent,

"I don't think so" I said, only to realize that I was pretty thirsty for a tequila on the rocks myself. Ted and I talked, kissed and had sex just like old times, only it didn't seem real since he was drunk and I was starting to get a little bit tipsy. Then out of nowhere came the proposal. A very drunk Ted kneeled down on the couch, with the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen

"Brooke will you marry me?" He asked. I then started crying, and I don't mean in that sappy way girls on movies cry when they are proposed to because they are so touched. I cried because I knew it wasn't for real and because I knew I was his rebound from fucking Vychtouriyah the Russian model. I didn't even give him a yes or no answer. I just ran off to the bathroom and sobbed like a little school girl. A couple days later, he proposed to me for real and I started crying once again (And yes I do mean the sappy TV kind of crying) and I actually said yes.

So now Ted and I are on our honeymoon in Mexico America. We are playing ping pong in the recreational room in the basement of the Hilton. We haven't even started playing, when I suddenly without any warning, slip and slide under the ping pong table.

"Brooke what happened?" Ted asks me, "Are you all right?" I am able to pick myself up "What happened?" Ted asks a second time, and it really annoys me because I am just as confused about it as he is.

"Clumsy moment" I lie.

"You okay?" He asks me again.

p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 6.0px 27.0px; font: 12.0px 'Times New Roman';"span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;""Yeah" I say, "So should we keep score or no?"

"All right let's play, 1-40" "Great" I say. I suddenly realize that my hand feels kind of limp, tingly and also kind of inflated like a balloon. I look down at my hand, despite everything it looks normal, as in it has not ballooned three sizes larger, it does however look kind of dead. I try to grasp onto my ping pong racket, but my hands somehow won't cooperate with my brain. I am unable to grasp a hold of the ping pong racket. Chills run down my spine when I realize this isn't the first time something like this has happened to me. At our wedding it happened. I had a great deal of difficulty slipping my ring off of my finger and on to Ted's ring finger. I became so frustrated, I was reduced to tears. Not wanting anyone to see me cry at my wedding, I escaped to the little girls room. People would have probably figured out that my tears were not the happy kind of tears that are shown in the movies, but the frustrated kind of tears, they would probably all make the assumption that I was having some terrible second thoughts about getting married. I sobbed in the bathroom for what felt like hours, when I suddenly heard the door open.

"Brooke?" My maid of honor and best friend Whitney asked. "Ted sent me to come check on you. Are you all right sweetie?" I came out the stall with red eyes and puffy cheeks, "What's the matter girl?" Whitney asked.

"It's nothing" I lied, "My nail polish is just chipping and it looks really terrible" It was a really stupid lie especially considering the fact that I had only then realized that my sparkly white nail polish was starting to chip off and truth be told it didn't look that horrible"

"You're having second thoughts about your wedding aren't you?" Whitney asks handing me a tissue. "That's okay, it happens to a lot of us, It even happened to me, but then I found out that getting married was like the best thing that could have ever happened to me." I couldn't tell her what was really going on. I didn't want anyone not even my BFF worrying about me on my wedding day. Maybe it was just nerves, maybe that was why I was having so much trouble with the ring. But it couldn't have been that, I didn't feel nervous about anything. I came to my wedding feeling very confident, maybe even a little bit too confident. If I didn't have nerves then, I definitely have to say being unable to apply the ring did it for me. I was nervous all right but not in the same way a person is supposed to be nervous on the day of their wedding. Instead of being worried about married life and all that shit, I was worried that maybe there was something seriously wrong with me. Maybe I was dying.

"I slip out of my reverie for a short while. My entire body is racked with fear. My swank tight black dress suddenly feels a little too tight, like I am suffocating. To make matters worse it also feels like someone has thrown a bunch of itching powder or maybe a colony of red ants in it. Beads of sweat fall down my four head. The ping pong racket slips from my limp useless hand and falls to the floor. /span/p

"What's wrong Brooke? Brooke what's wrong?" Ted asks me.

I shake my head" "Nothing's wrong" I lie, "We're on our honeymoon, I'm having a great time, I'm happy" As I say this I realize that my veins have become solid ice.

""You're shaking" Ted observes. "You okay?" 

"Yeah I'm fine" I lie again. "You know what? I'm getting a little bored with ping pong."

"Tired of Ping Pong?" He asks, "What are you talking about? We just started playing. What's wrong Brooke?" /span/p

"What's wrong Brooke, what's wrong? What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG? He's probably going to continue asking me that question until it starts to lose meaning, As a matter a fact I think it already has lost meaning.

"I'm just not into ping pong" I lie, "I mean it's just not fun when it's not beer pong"

"We could get some beer to play with" Ted suggests. "There's a bar just over there, you don't look so good" He says. Now it feels like my heart has stopped. My stomach feels like it has tied its self in knots. I feel like I'm literally going to throw up.

"Are you all right?" he asks me. "Not really, no" I admit

"What's wrong?" He asks for about the 50 billionth time that day

"I feel sick" I say and just leave it at that.

"Should we go back to the hotel room?" He asks. 

"Sure" I say "I'd like that" My legs feel as if they are made out of a combination of play-dough and jello. I once again fall. Ted lifts me up from the ground. My legs won't cooperate with my brain and I keep falling down.

"What's wrong?" He asks again, that has got to be a record. "Why do you keep falling? Are you okay?" My husband is really starting to sound like a broken record now with all his questioning. "Are you drunk?" He asks me. Truth of the matter is, I am not drunk, I haven't had anything to drink except a couple of cocktails at dinner and that was at 6:00, it is now 12:00.

"Yeah" I lie. "I'm very drunk."

"You are?" Ted asks, "No you're not, you had two cocktails, we both did." Tears start rolling down my cheeks. "Oh my god!" Ted says, like he knows exactly what is going on. "Somebody roofied your drink didn't they. Oh my god! Brooke!" He begins checking my pupils to check for signs of dilation. He then scoops me up in his arms and carries me back to the hotel room like how a person would carry a sack of potatoes. I have been roofied before, and this is nothing like it. Besides if I had my drink roofied, wouldn't it have taken affect right away? Those things are known to take affect at once. Besides, if someone was trying to date rape me, he would have taken off with me, he wouldn't have handed me back to my husband. I do however feel drunk, or at least buzzed, I guess the best way I can put it is that my brain is feeling foggy. When Ted carries me to our room, a strange wave of vertigo sweeps over me. It is a combination of the vertigo and just all the scared feelings in my stomach that causes me to vomit the Zarzuela I had ordered for dinner at the Spanish (Not Mexican, but Spanish restaurant) all over Ted's expensive new shoes, that his friend Scoonie had bought him as a wedding present and a little bit on my new slick black dress, from my friend Candy who I do modeling with, who is also my boss, but we get along really well, when we are not doing modeling stuff. Ted makes a face but shrugs it off. "You all right?" He asks me again. I have never heard Ted be more repetitive than he's being tonight. I burst into fresh tears.

"Damn it Ted" I sob, "I'm so sorry" "It's all right" He says, then strokes his fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry I had to ruin this for you. We're only one day into our honeymoon and already it's a disaster" "Hey don't worry about it" He says. "Things will be better tomorrow" He kisses me on the top of the head. We take the elevator up to the 2/spanspan style="font: 8.0px 'Times New Roman'; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"supnd/sup/spanspan style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;" floor of the building, the see through elevator to be more specific, it takes my vertigo up another notch causing me to vomit once again. The rest of the Seafood stew, the two cocktails and a couple of Andes mints make a second appearance on Ted's really nice tuxedo.

"You okay Mrs. Lady?" A Mexican boy, who appears to be no older than 6 asks. "Has she been drinking?" He asks Ted. I suppose he is not too young to understand the whole drunk thing. The man who I assume is his father gives him a slap on the back of his head "Dam nit El Burro. You know better than to go asking people questions like that" His father snaps. Seriously that's the kids name, translates to the donkey, which transfers to Jackass, which transfers to asshole which he kind of is. No wonder the kid acts out, but to be fair he wouldn't have any clue that I'm not drunk and that I really wish I was because then I'd actually be able to put a name behind what is happening to me. I shut my eyes because, looking through the elevator glass increases my vertigo a whole other notch, only to find that it has gone and made things even worse. I let out a single sob. "She's wasted all right" The father of El Burro says.

"Don't worry" Ted says, stroking my hair once again. "We're almost to the hotel room" I have no idea why, but that elevator ride felt like it took forever. I suddenly realize what a terrible migraine I have, or maybe it is that I just suddenly developed a migraine. Either way, Ted carrying me to our room and just the echoing sound of him running down the hall with his especially loud shoes screaming the words "Help" and "Ayudar" (Which is a particular ugly word in my mind) Is just making it even worse. "Don't worry" He says, "We'll get help" That's just about the last thing I want, I don't want to ruin our honeymoon and more importantly, I really don't want to find out what is wrong with me. No one answers

Ted's annoying screams, either everyone is asleep since it is probably now 2:00 in the morning, or maybe no one cares, or maybe no one else is staying on the floor of the Hilton. Probably everyone who has gone to Mexico has rented other more authentic Mexican resorts. Someone actually does open the door and tells Ted to shut the fuck up. He then sees me "Passed out drunk huh?" He asks. Is he ever wrong? I am neither drunk or passed out. "Just give her a cold shower and she'll wake up" He says.

"It's not what it looks like" Ted says. "I think she might be very sick" "Okay fine" The guy said. "She's sick, I'm sure it can wait till tomorrow, she probably just has a case of food poisoning or something, she'll be okay"

"What gives you the idea she has food poisoning?" Ted asks, "Exactly what did I say to lead you to believe that?" "Who cares" The guy says, "But obviously it's all over your tux, your shoes and her dress" If by food poisoning he means Botulism, then maybe he's right. One of the Beta girls suffered from a case of Botulism and pretty much all of us "Greeks" found out about it. I'm not sure what they did about her Botulism, as a matter a fact I'm not sure what ever happened to that girl, but I kind of wish I did, because if I really do have Botulism, it would be nice to know what's going to happen to me and if I'm going to be okay or not. Maybe I shouldn't have ordered that horrible seafood stew, maybe all the shellfish and the entire lobster weren't cooked all the way. I realize at once that, that is most definitely not the case. I have been having problems since our wedding a week ago, with the whole ring incident and what not. "Do you really think she has food poisoning?" Ted asks.

"Don't know" The guy says sounding more and more irritated by the second. "But can it please wait till tomorrow, my kids, wife and I have to get up early tomorrow morning, I promised them I'd show them the baby sea turtles. So please let me go to sleep and we'll discuss this tomorrow" "Fuck you!" Ted shouts giving him the middle finger. "Fuck everyone!" He shouts, more and more people open their doors, but Ted opens our door and slams it behind him, he then gently unzips my vomit stained black dress, and begins undressing me like I am 0 years old.

"You'll feel better tomorrow" He tells me and I hope as hell he's right.

"As it turns out I do not feel better, as a matter a fact I might feel worse. I don't remember falling asleep, if I did at all, and if I had I don't remember dreaming anything, but I suppose I must have fallen asleep, but I definitely feel much worse. I woke up with my right arm attached (glued as a matter a fact) to my side soldier style, I am unable to move it because it feels heavy and when I try to move it, it snaps back with some kind of weird magnetic force. To make things worse, that is the arm that is dominant. Chills rush down my spine as I make a clumsy attempt to sit up. From the corner of my eye I see that Ted is already up and dressed.

"No time to lay in bed all day" He says pulling off the covers. "We've got a big day ahead of us, we've got sight seeing, beach combing, snorkeling, making out in the waves" My stomach literally bounces. I am pretty much unable to do any of those things

"I don't think so" I say.

"What's wrong?" Ted asks, his favorite question once again. I almost tell him that I can't move my right arm, but my mouth feels like it's full of Adams brand natural peanut butter. I'm not sure if those two problems are related, or if I am just nervous as fuck. "Don't you feel well?" He asks "Don't you feel better from yesterday?" "I'm just tired" I lie. "Of course you are" Ted says, "You just woke up." He is unbelievably inconsiderate. "

"Can we just take it easy today?" I ask, I feel my voice break like I am going to start crying again. "We can do all that fun stuff tomorrow, I promise"

"All right" Ted says. He doesn't sound super enthusiastic, but I can't say I blame him one little bit. I'm sure hanging out in the hotel room all day is the last thing he wants to do on his honeymoon our honeymoon that is.

"I'm sorry this is such a horrible honeymoon" I say.

"It's okay Brooke" He says irritably, I can tell from the look on his face that he is fucking disappointed, that his dream honeymoon didn't turn out the way he wanted it to.

"You can do that stuff by yourself" I say.

"Damnit Brooke" He snaps throwing back his head, "This is a honeymoon, we're supposed to do stuff together, look if you want to stay in the hotel room all day then fine. We'll just stay in the hotel room all day and do nothing, just like everyone else does on their honeymoon" I can't believe Ted can be so inconsiderately insensitive

"Stop yelling at me." I cry "I'm really not feeling well" I say.

"I know, I'm sorry" Ted says. "Would you like to cut the Honeymoon a day short?" He asks. I am worried that next he will say something like, "Do you not want to be married to me?" Thankfully he doesn't. "How do you not feel well?" He asks me. This is my chance to explain, but I don't because the last thing I want is for this honeymoon to become a medical emergency. "I just don't" I say. "Do you want to order room service then?" He asks."Sure" I say apathetically. "Room service it is"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Ted

"As I watch my wife lie on our bed on her stomach, typing on her I pad, I can't help noticing that there is an eerie sadness about her. A sadness I have never seen in her. As a matter a fact a sadness I haven't seen in anyone, I can't explain it. She seems very listless as she scrolls down the computer screen, it appears that she is looking at TWOP, for some reason she really likes reading summaries about the 10th season of Grey's Anatomy, and for some reason it really offends her that Grey's Anatomy hasn't just ended already. She does all this with her left hand, and I wonder what the hell is wrong with her right hand. It hangs limply to her waste. She is real quiet. She doesn't even make a peep, she doesn't once say the word peep, but on the other hand why would she? She seems like she is hiding something. I however know all too well that she is not hiding anything. Ever since are wedding I've been able to pick up on signs of not okayness from her. I've been able to pick up on her not okaydar. It started with the rings. She had great difficulty slipping it on my finger, as a matter a fact she just had difficulty handling it in general, she dropped it several times and my 7 year old 2nd cousin twice removed the ring barer kept having to pick it up. I could tell he found that amusing, maybe even hilarious and I wanted to kick him in the balls for that. I'm sure it didn't occur to him how much she was struggling. But it definitely occurred to me It was like she had a severe case of butterfingers all of a sudden, and I do not mean the candy bar. When she was finally able to get a firm hold of the ring and slip it on my finger she seemed to have even more trouble, she couldn't even seem to figure out which finger was the ring finger. She then became so upset that she took off to the bathroom and cried. It ended up being my 2nd cousin twice removed who put the ring on my finger. It was so pathetic and lame, but hey at least I got a ring. During our dance together, she stumbled, fell and stepped on my feet a lot. I figured she was drunk or something, but that didn't seem to suffice anything. Brooke was a sorority girl for gods sake. Not saying that all sorority girls are drunk/ and or high all the time, every second of their lives, that is absolutely not the case, but they are big on partying just like us frat boys. They are as a matter a fact as big of drinker's as us Frat boys are of druggies. Brooke has gotten so used to drinking, that she's built up a tolerance for it. I've seen her drink a fish bowl of tequila, plus a number of shots, and a couple beers, and ended up being only a little bit tipsy. That night however, she only drank one cup of wine at dinner. There was an open bar and everything, but it wasn't supposed to open until midnight or something. But the way she was dancing and tripping over her dress and falling splat on her face a couple of times, that was just plain unusual, I could have sworn that she was drunk. Maybe she wasn't as tolerant to wine as she was to other alcohol. Or else maybe something else was going on. Something was very wrong. It was really sad watching her struggle so much. She continued tripping over her dress and just stepping on her shoes wrong after the dance as well, over night she had become a total klutz somehow. She had lost all of her coordination. And she had been so coordinated before at sports like ultimate frisbee, lacross and powderpuff football. I kept worrying that she might hurt herself really badly every time she fell down visions of broken bones danced around in my head like sugar plumbs (Sorry about sounding all gay and retarded) She also bumped into people a lot, so I worried she might hurt someone else as well. At one point she crashed right into Pete, and that was really awkward, seeing all the history between the three of us, we kind of had a triangle thing going on, like we were Edward, Bella and Jacob (Gay and retarded as well) /span/p

"Brooke you okay?" He asked, he then firmly grabbed her by the shoulders. I was relieved that that was as far as they went, but Pete's a good guy, he would know better than to try something with her at our wedding.

"Yeah I just had a little clumsy moment" She said sitting down next to Pete. She then laughed with her loud fake laugh like it was no big deal. I don't usually say things like this, but it really broke my heart, as I watched her laughter turn to tears. I sat down next to her, and I guess Pete took that as an excuse to leave and flirt with Brittany. I took off my jacket and wrapped it around her quivering body her black mascara was running down her cheeks, making her look like one of those weird goth chicks. "I'm so sorry Ted" She moaned. I hug her close to my body.

"Hey no worries I say" That was a complete lie, there were all kinds of worries. Brooke was just being so UnBrookelike on so many levels.

"Should we just go home?" She asked wiping the mascara from her cheeks. It looked even worse after she did that, making her look even more like a weird Goth teenager who liked to slit it's wrist on a daily basis. I kissed her on the top of the head.

"You sure you don't want to stay?" I couldn't have cared less about staying, and watching Whitney and Pete's speeches about us, and then having to hear from Brooke's parents or from her bitchy anal retentive stuck in the mud older sister Brandy or my mom and dad, and I especially do not want to stay for the slide show, but It really wouldn't be a wedding without the bride and groom.

"Don't worry" I said, "You just have to sit for the rest of this thing"

"I'm embarrassed god damnit" She said folding her arms across her chest. Her voice breaks again. "And I want to go home" I suddenly realized that I was starting to tear up as well.

"This isn't going to take that long" I lied, usually weddings take forever, Brandy was probably going to go on and on for a couple of hours with her drudgerous monotonus voice, as she tends to do. She had a job as a 5th grade teacher and boy did I feel sorry for those poor kids. Brandy is 3 years 6 months and one day older than Brooke and the two of them are as different as night and day. Brooke has beautiful honey blonde colored hair that is very wavy, Brandy's hair is blonde too, but it's more of a bland dishwater blonde and it is very streight. Brooke is very bubbly and was part of a sorority, Brandy was a very serious student who kept to her dorm room in college studying. While Brooke stayed up till 4 in the morning partying, Brandy stayed up till 4 in the morning with her nose in a text book. Anyway you get the picture, seeing the two of them together, it is shocking that they were raised under the same roof. "

Will Brandy Shy please come talk about the bride?" The priest asked. Brandy very blandly shuffled her feet over to the podium.

"First of all, I'd like to congratulate my baby sister Brookie Monster and her amazing high school sweetheart Teddy Bear" She says the whole thing rolling her eyes, I'm sure that was meant to be cute or something along those lines, or maybe even funny, but It's Brandy we're talking about. She's as dull as dirt except that would be an insult to dirt because it has far more personality, and Brookie Monster and Teddy Bear cute and funny? It's really not. The most she got for that piece of crap were a couple of polite giggles from the little kids in the audience, and a smirk of her own. "Tough crowd we're having today" She said with that annoying drawl. She's always kind of reminded me of a snail how slowly she talks, she once again rolled her eyes with that too cool for school attitude she's always been trying out. She rolled her eyes again, "As some of you might already know, I just got married myself a month ago to my beautiful girlfriend of six years, Tequila Sunrise, stand up for the crowd Tequila" A punkish looking girl with short spiky pink hair, a bunch of tattoo's, piercings and horn rimed glasses stood up in the crowd flipping both the middle fingers and wagging her tongue. Where the hell did Brandy find this girl? I wonder to myself, Brandy is so serious and conservative, she is practically like a puritan/pilgrim/quaker. "Of course Tequila Sunrise isn't her real name" Brandy says rolling her eyes again, "Her real name is Susan Anderson, she just calls herself Tequila to be cheeky, because Brandy and Tequila get it?" I swear, Brandy always sounds like she's on tranquilizers and not in the fun chilax sort of way. I swear Brandy is never on any kind of tranquilizers, she's like the most sober person I know, which is really ironic seeing that her name is Brandy. The poor audience appeared really bored. I pretty much spaced out the whole thing, a bunch of stories of how we first met blah blah blah, prom royalty blah blah blah, Stories that make her sound like she should get a big sister of the decade award, taught Brooke how to swim, ride a bike, ice skate etc. She then said something at the end that really jolted me out of my semi coma. "If their's anything I know about my little sis" She drawls on, "It's her tendencies towards passive aggression. We all saw her on the dance floor, the way she was tripping and stepping on Ted's feet, and not to mention the fact that she kept dropping the ring and had to have Ted's 2nd cousin twice removed figure it out and the fact that she took off to the bathroom crying during I do's. If you didn't recognize the signs then, hopefully you'll recognize them now. She doesn't want to marry you Theodor Sanders." She clicks her tongue. My brain suddenly goes all foggy. I did think that maybe that was a possibility, I did recognize those signs, but I decided to push them all to the back of my head. Tears form in my eyes. "I have to say baby sis. I'm really disappointed in you, If you didn't want to marry the guy then why did you say yes when he proposed to you Troll? And also Brooke, why didn't you make me the maid of honor? You were the maid of honor at my wedding as you very well remember. The least you could have done was make me a brides maid, but I take it your Sorority sisters are important than your actual biological blood sister, who grew up under the same roof as you. I have to say this is the worst wedding I've ever gone to, and now that I'm done with this speech, Tequila and I can get the hell out of here" "Fuck yeah!" Tequila shouts, once again giving us both the finger.

"Damn Brooke you okay?" Scoonie asked giving her a squeeze on the shoulder. He doesn't even bother asking me if I'm okay that fucking asshole, but I suppose It wasn't MY sister who ripped me apart, but doesn't it count that she is my sister in law? "She just ripped you the fuck apart" Brooke did not answer, she just started blinking several times in slow motion.

My Mom made the next speech, but I was so shook up from Brandy's speech that I was unable to pay attention. I stared over at Brooke, her cheeks appeared wet and very flushed, she looked just as shook up as I felt or maybe even more. I wasn't quite sure which of us deserved to be more shook up. We had to stay for the cutting of the wedding cake, because we were the bride and groom and everything and let's just say that I wish I hadn't. We sliced the cake and fed it to each other the corny way you're supposed to at a wedding, Brooke suddenly went pale and started coughing hysterically.

"Brooke are you okay?" Her friend Brittany called out from the audience. I realized shortly that she was choking on her wedding cake.

"Anybody know the heimlich manouver?" I asked. Way to make it all about her once again. I really couldn't say I felt sorry for her, even when her face was turning all red and purple and she is struggling with every breath she took. "I got her" Garf announced. He then rushed up to Brooke and gave her chest compressions. A piece of drenched wedding cake came flying out of her mouth. She began coughing uncontrollably.

"You okay girl?" Garf asked. She put her hand to her mouth, collapsed to the ground and began bawling once again. She was being a great example of how people become overly emotional wrecks at their weddings. I had no sympathy for her whatsoever.

"Should we just go?" I snapped. We didn't say a word to each other in the car. Neither of us said a word until we finally pulled up to the driveway. "Is it true?" I asked her. "Is what true?" She asked, her voice full of nervousness. "What Brandy said" I snapped, "Do you not want to be with me? Is that why you kept messing things up, is that why you kept falling down and stepping on my feet, is that why you kept dropping the ring? Is that why you choked on the wedding cake" She stared off at the distance. not looking at me, her face was dark but that was to be expected in the dark car. It was once again wet, she'd been crying obviously because she has been caught being a bitch. "Damn it Brooke" I snap, "Don't you have anything to say about this?" Anything at all. She continued staring at the distance, big fat tears ran down her cheeks and her mascara continued to run. Despite everything she's put me through, I really do think she's a beautiful cryer, if it wasn't for all the mascara. She then let's out a single sob.

"It's not like that Teddy" She said, she hasn't called me Teddy in years, as a matter a fact, nobody has, I stopped being Teddy as soon as I graduated college and started a new life. I ignored the whole Teddy thing. "Oh really?" I snapped,

"Then what's it like?" I asked throwing back my head in exasperation. 

"I'm just kind of clumsy" She said trying to laugh through her tears. /span/p

"God Damn it Brooke you are not!" I snapped, "You're good at ultimate frisbee, powderpuff football, gymnastics" Brooke burst into fresh tears. "Stop yelling at me" She cried. "Stop yelling nice things" I was not yelling at her for putting herself down or whatever she thought. I was plainly and simply yelling at her for ruining our god damn wedding, for making a fool out of herself and a bigger fool out of me possibly. "I'm not yelling nice things at you god damnit" I snapped, "And what was the deal with you throwing yourself at Pete?"

"I did not throw myself at Pete" Brooke sobbed "It was an honest mistake"

"Was it an honest mistake when you cried when I proposed to you?" /span/p

"You were drunk" Brooke sobbed bitterly. "You just broke up with Vychtouriyah, I was your fucking rebound"

"Is that how you see this?" I asked my voice had gone from angry to hurt. "But then what about when I proposed to you for real?" I asked.

"Those were happy tears" She said.

"Never mind that" I snapped, going back to angry in an instant "You said yes! You obviously didn't want to, but you fucking said yes! Why did you?" Brooke doesn't say anything "God damnit Brooke!" I snapped, I slammed the door and left her in the front seat bawling like an idiot. I decided that even though it was our first night officially together, I was already wanting to get as far away from her as humanly possible. I called the first person I think of and for some reason that person is Brandy, the person who was pretty much 2nd hand in ruining our wedding. The phone rang a couple of times and not Brandy but Taquilla answered.

Who might this be?" She asks, she has a huge speech impediment due to multiple tongue and mouth peircings, "It's Ted" I said. "Brandy" She called out, "Ted's on the phone" Brandy answered right away. "What's up?" She asked. "It's a disaster, it's all a fucking disaster, I don't even want to be in the same room as Brooke. Could I maybe crash at your place?" Brandy rolled her eyes, at least I'm assumed she did, seeing that is a very common Brandy activity. "I knew this was coming" She said in her cool was voice. "You're welcome to crash at our place any time. Stay as long as you'd like, we're renting the Super 8 Motel, but we have to leave in a couple of days, so 2 days would be the limit" "Don't worry" I said, "Hopefully it will just be for a couple of nights, I know the two of you have a life and everything" "Mi Casa es Zu Casa" She says with that same old drawl. "Hopefully not for long" I said, "Hopefully this will blow over" "See ya soon" Brandy drawls. I angrily stomped out to the car. My wife was still bawling like an idiot in the passenger's seat.

Get out!" I snapped. She doesn't budge. She just rocked back in fourth crying like a fucking idiot. "GET OUT OF THE CAR!" I snapped again "Get the fuck out you wedding ruining whore!" That only caused her to cry even harder, which I did not need at all. The car was echoing with her loud obnoxious tears. When she continued not to budge, I finally grabbed her by the frilly sleeve of her white wedding dress, and yanked her out of the car. I was angry, but I really hoped I didn't hurt her. I then got in the car and slammed the door. She once again tripped over her dress. I rolled down the window. "I don't feel sorry for you!" I snapped. I drove away and watched her continue bawling on our lawn.

Taquilla opened the door It is the first time I noticed how freakishly tall she is, she towered over Brandy who already towered over me. "Brandy your guest's here" She announced. Brandy woodenly came to the door, she was dressed in her pajama's and had a toothbrush in her mouth. God damnit I hate it when people brush their teeth in the living room, it's so fucking rude and not to mention gross. "You can have the guest bed" Brandy said, with her mouth full of toothpaste. She spat into a tiny basin she was carrying around. Ga-ross!

"I love my little sis" She said, "But we all have to admit, she can be a fucking bitch when she really wants to be."

"Yeah" I said. "I couldn't agree with you more. You girls got any Taquilla and Brandy?" I asked cheekily. "Heh!" Taquilla says tagging on the fake laugh.  
>We get that question all the fucking time. No, we don't have any of that, I'm in alcoholics annonymus and Brandy here? She's just against it." I nodded. "You seem to be in a bad mood" She said, quite observant that Taquilla. "Maybe this will help you feel better" She said logging into Youtube. "Oh wow!" she squealed. "5 comments already on this thing I just posted. "What did you just post?" I asked leaning in closer to the computer. Taquilla presses play. The screen says the word, "Brooke Shy's best crying scenes at her wedding" Brooke Shy, she couldn't have bothered to refer to her as Brooke Sanders. Ouch. Major ouch. The song "Stop Crying Your Heart Out!" By Oasis blared in the background.'- I swear that's one of the most over used songs ever in a music video, at least 50 billion videos have that stupid song in them. Well now 50 billion and one. It was pretty inaccurate since a lot of the scenes in the video didn't involve her crying, just of her feeling down in the dumps or whatever. The saddest thing about the whole thing, was I didn't even care that Taquilla made that video that people online might actually look at. It served Brooke right. It served that bitchy traitor right. "Would you like to comment?" She asked. I really wanted to say something like "Fuck you Brooke" But for some reason I didn't have the nerve to post it. Instead I posted, "Where did you find all those clips?" Instead of writing a comment, she answered for me in person. "There's more" She said. She then typed in the name of another Youtube video. As it turned out, she got our whole entire wedding on tape, even the parts that I assumed she wasn't there for, since I had thought she and Brandy left after Brandy's speech. She went back and rewinds the part with Brooke choking on her wedding cake over and over.<p>

"How did you get this?" I asked. "We were in the balcony the whole time" Taquilla said. My mouth dropped open and I was at a loss for words"

After staying a two and a half nights with Brandy and Taquilla, things smoothed themselves over eventually. It took a really long time, but thankfully we didn't book our honeymoon until a couple of weeks after the wedding. So now two weeks and a three days later, we are on our honey moon, and it is just as much of a disaster as our wedding, or maybe even more of a disaster. I am bored as fuck staring up at the ceiling tossing a blue ball in my hands. Brooke continues staring at the computer and looking very withdrawn and sad, maybe a cross between bummed and wistful would be the best way to describe it.

"Brooke could I ask you a question?" I ask. "Sure" She says sullenly. "Are we okay?" I ask. "We're fine" Brooke says, listlessly staring at the computer.  
>"Why wouldn't we be?" She asks still sad as ever.<p>

"Last night?" I say, "What was going on? Were you really feeling sick, or were you being passive aggressive like you were at the wedding? Is it that you don't want to be with me?" I don't know why I am hurt instead of angry this time, maybe it's because I got it all out of my system the day of the wedding. Brooke swallows hard. "I don't really want to talk about it" She says. The way she says everything with a great deal of sadness, kind of makes me wonder if maybe there really is something going on, something more then just marriage guilt. Maybe what happened last night, maybe something really was wrong with her.

"About what?" I ask. She stares off into the distance with that same sad expression. I wish I could pin point this sadness.

"Just it" She says, with that strange sadness. It is driving me crazy. "Do you want to go home?" I ask her."Should we just cut this trip short?"

"Yes" She says woodenly. I swear she sounds a lot like her sister Brandy, and that was something I never thought possible. Not even for a second. I drive a sad Brooke to the airport, she stares ahead of her with a very empty look in her eyes. Why is she so sad? I can't help wondering to myself. I wonder if maybe there is some connection to what happened yesterday. Maybe she really is sick. Maybe she has something terribly wrong with her. Or maybe it's me. Maybe now she's just starting to realize, that she's tied down to someone, maybe she's just sad that she's no longer free. Maybe this just isn't what she wanted for herself, maybe I should have taken her crying about my proposal as some kind of sign. Maybe all she has wrong with her is a severe case of nerves and that's it. We don't say a word to each other. What is there to say? I've already said everything I needed to say to her.

"When's your next flight to Los Angeles?" I ask, as soon as we get there. "Next flight is at 2:47" God damnit what an inconvenient time. It is only 10:00, I guess we're going to be spending 4 hours and 47 minutes of our honeymoon in the airport in Mexico. FUCK! Just fuck. I really want to strangle Brooke right now, her falling down spells are getting worse by the second, as are her inability to hold things, she drops her luggage at least 20 times. She is so vulnerable and way too vulnerable right now for me to do such a thing. And it's kind of hard for me to strangle someone who I'm kind of worried about.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Brooke

We say nothing to each other at the airport, not a single word. Ted listlessly flips through a people magazine. He is pissed, I can just tell, and why shouldn't he be, we were supposed to be on our honey moon for three days, and all we got out of it was one really crappy day, and one really boring day cut short. He does not get to do what he came here to do. We did not get to go sight seeing, or make out in the waves, or go snorkeling. I feel terrible for ruining honeymoon What had happened. I had been doing so well since our wedding. No falling spells or any of that jazz. I thought for sure it was just nerves, but who get's nervous on their honeymoon. Honeymoon's are meant for relaxing. Why couldn't I have just waited to have a bad case of nerves when we got home, the wedding went terribly, Ted had to stay a couple of nights with Brandy and Taquilla which sounds like he got drunk at the bar for two nights straight, but really he didn't get a drop of alcohol. When he got home, I knew he was still angry, apparently two nights didn't resolve anything. He angrily grabbed me by the arm. /span/p

"C'mon Brooke!" He snapped, "We're going to couple's therapy. Apparently he had made an appointment during the time he was spending with Brandy and Taquilla.

"What already?" I asked. It was pretty pathetic, we had only been a couple for two days and already we were about to go to couple's therapy. He grabbed me by the arm.

"C'mon let's go" He says. There was no talking in the car. It seemed like it took hours before we pulled up to a small building. I somehow managed to get out of the car and walk over to the building without having another "clumsy moment" and was glad I didn't because, Ted would have had no sympathy or time for that.

"Theodor and Brooke Sanders" The woman who I assumed must have been the therapist said sticking her head out . "My name is Evangeline" she said holding out her hand. She was I swear, one of the ugliest women I've ever seen, with her huge glasses, mousey brown pixie, her eyes too close together and her tiny button nose which is way too far away from her mouth which was hung open like she was some kind of a mouth breather, her teeth were crooked to make everything worse. She was wearing heavy perfume that made me want to either throw up or keel over. /span"Come on in you two" She said. "May I offer you two a cup of tea?"

"Sure" I said.

"What about you?" She asked my husband. 

"Coffee" He said

"Oh I'm sorry" She said, with her annoyingly soothing voice, the kind of voice that would be relaxing at a spa, but at a therapists office is just infuriating. "Let's try this again" Evangeline said condescendingly

"Are you kidding me?" He snaps, Evangeline clears his throat "What kind of tea do you want?" She asked again,

"CO'FEE!" He said sounding it out as if she was mentally retarded or something, which I kind of wondered if she might have been. She did kind of look it. "I don't do coffee," she said. Ted looked even more infuriated then he had when we came in.

"We have black tea" She said, "Fine!" Ted snaps. "Black tea it is"

"What kind of tea would you like?" She asked me

"Um, I'll have vanilla" I said. She then disappeared into the kitchen area of the building, and Ted and I were left alone in angry silence. She returned in what seems like hours. "Here you are" She said, handing us our tea.

"Black for Ted, and Vanilla Black for you" My hands suddenly go limp again, the way they had at the wedding when I kept dropping the ring. I dropped the scorching hot tea and it spilled all over my lap/p

"Oh my gosh are you all right?" Evangeline asks. She immediately handed me some tissues.

"Clumsy moment" I said giggling nervously. Ted face palmed and threw his head back in exasperation./p

"What are you feeling right now!" Evangeline asked Ted.

"Well obviously exasperated!" He snapped

"And why is that?" She asked. "Because!" Ted snapped, "I'm sick and tired of her using that for an excuse all the time.

"Clumsy Moment!" He said that part mockingly in my voice. I must have looked pretty offended because Evangeline said"I can really tell from the look on your face that you didn't like that, it hurt your feelings didn't it, how did it make you feel. Why don't you share some feeling words about it?" "Icky" I said. She raised one eyebrow at me. "And kind of offended." Evangeline took out a yellow pad of lined paper.

"I guess we're going to have a lot to talk about this session" She said, "How long have you two been married? I'm guessing at least two years" 

"Try two days" Ted snapped. "We're newly weds" Evangeline clicked her tongue, she sure was condescending.

"How can you two be having such problems already?" She asked. "Unless you had problems at your wedding"  
>"That's exactly it!" Ted snapped. Evangeline took off her glasses.<p>

"Tell me about your wedding!" She said, folding her arms across her lap.

"Okay gladly" Ted said. "As Julie Andrews said in that really gay musical of hers let's start at the very beginning" He cracked his knuckles. I hate it when he does that, but maybe that was somehow supposed to make up for that Sound of Music reference, since cracking one's knuckles seems like a very manly activity at least to me. "I guess I'll start with my proposal to her."

"What about it?" Evangeline asked.

"She cried" Ted said disgustedly. "I see" Evangeline says. "And I don't mean in a good way. She did not cry because she was happy or any of that shit. She didn't even give me a yes or no answer, she just plain cried.

"You were fucking drunk" I snapped, "And you just broke up with that other girl, Vic-Whore-ia or what ever her name is. I was your rebound, and you threw up you fucking threw up right after you proposed to me." I couldn't help repeating what I said after our wedding word for word."Vychtouryah" He snaps, "Her name was Vychtouryah you fucking bitch."/p

"Let's not get angry?" Evangeline said calmly. "Why not get angry, this is fucking marriage therapy, aren't you supposed to get angry at marriage therapy, isn't that kind of the whole point?" Evangeline just sat there with her hands on her lap. "It's not good to be so angry, it's good to talk it out rationally" She says. She then turned to me. 

"Brooke, why did you get his girlfriends name wrong when you knew very well that was not her name?"

"Because I fucking hate her!" I snapped crossing my arms tightly across my chest sticking out my bottom lip in a pouting motion. "I hate to say this Brooke, but calling her Vic-Whore-ia, sounded a little bitchy don't you think? And a little bit judgmental considering you never met the girl, she could very well be a virgin and not a whore at all, and she may also be a very nice girl." "She's not!" Ted interjected. "She's not a nice girl or a virgin."/p

"ANY WAY!" I said condescendingly. "I was Vychtourya's rebound. Her fucking rebound. As soon as he broke up with her, he was down on his knees proposing to me, It was probably the same ring he used to prepose to that fucking bitch. Of course I cried" I said. 

"Okay fine" Ted says tossing his arms up in the air angrily, "It was the same ring! Fine that was an assholish dick move on my part. I apologize" Evangeline nods woodenly.

"That does not sound like a real apology" Evangeline said. "You know very well that you should never apologize unless you really are sorry"/p

"Good to know!" Ted snapped. "Because I sure as Hell am not really sorry!" Evangeline sat there patiently. "But then I proposed to her about five weeks later, and god damnit I did buy a new ring and a god damn expensive one at that" Ted said. His teeth were grit with anger.

"And?" Evangeline asks putting on her glasses,

"She said YES!" He snapped. Evangeline took off her glasses once again in order to blink her eyes a couple of times, she was purely confused. "The problem was. She obviously didn't want to get married" "Why do you say that?" Evangeline asked. "She basically ruined our wedding. That fucking whore" He said.

"I suddenly felt like I am not a part of this conversation. For all I was concerned I was no longer in the room, she only wanted to talk to Ted.  
>"Hold on a second Ted" She said at one point. She took off her glasses. So annoying how she kept taking her glasses off and putting them back on. "Brooke sweetie, are you okay?" She asked me. "Yeah why?" I asked startled "Yes why?" Ted repeated. "I mean with your husband tearing you apart and everything!" Ted throws his head back in exasperation once again. "<p>

God why is it that people are always taking Brooke's side? And when I say Brooke's side I don't mean the fancy chocolates."  
>"Evangeline blinked her eyes once again and took off her glasses, and I didn't blame her for a second, that was fucking obscure of Ted.p 

"I really don't understand what chocolates have to do with anything!" She said

"Forget it!" He snapped. She then turned to me.

"How are you feeling about all of this?" She asked. I really did not know what to say. What I really wanted to talk about is, what happened to me at the wedding and how none of it was my fault, and that I seriously thought I was sick, but I didn't want Ted to worry about me, if he worries about me, he might want me to go to the hospital and that might ruin things even more. If he found out that I was sick then he'd feel guilty and I did not want that, nor did I want to ruin our honeymoon, which was in a couple of weeks so I assumed we'd be over it by then.

"Everything's fine" I lied, I then smiled even though on the inside, I felt sad.

"Do you feel that you ruined the wedding?" Evangeline asked. Tears weld up in my eyes. All I can do is nod my head. It was all I could do to not cry at therapy. "I really don't want to talk about it" I said. "I Don't think you understand the point of therapy" She said to me, taking off her glasses again. She just shouldn't wear glasses if she can't decide whether or not to keep them on or not.

"When you go to therapy you're supposed to talk about your problems"

"Well" I said, staring at her. "I didn't want to go to therapy in the first place FYI. I didn't even get a say in it in the first place" I snapped, "Ted just dragged me and said 'C'mon we're going to couple's therapy. We're not even married and already he's sending me to couple's therapy, he doesn't even trust us to work it out on our own"

"How can we work anything out?" Ted snapped, "You don't even want to talk about it, you want to pretend it didn't happen, well guess what? If that's how it is, this marriage is never going to work."

"Ted" Evangeline said, "Why don't you try using some feeling words with Brooke. Just yelling at her like that, is going over her head, it's not the way we handle things at couple's therapy. Why don't you say something like, I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but that really hurt your feelings the way you acted at our wedding

"Wait a sec" Ted snapped, "I'm supposed to say, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you hurt my feelings?" Evangeline just stared at us with her mouth open, breathing through her mouth. "How in the world is that affective?" Ted snapped. Evangeline puts her glasses back on. /p 

"Never mind that" Evangeline says, clearly stating that Ted has won. "Tell me more about your wedding" She said. "What exactly did she do? I know your pissed off, but what exactly did she do that pissed you off so much? Besides the crying thing when you proposed to her drunk" Ted put his finger to his chin, and put on his thinking face. "Where do I start?" He asked. "Well first of all she had a lot of trouble dealing with putting on my ring. I've gone to a lot of weddings, and never have I seen anyone have that much trouble with that." 

"I'm just clumsy" I said staring down at the floor.

"Shut up Brooke!" Ted snapped. "Why did you tell her to shut up just now?" 

"Evangeline asked, purely confused. "Did you mean shut up as in oh my god? Or did you really want her to shut up. I can understand that your pissed about how she behaved at the wedding, but why did you tell her to shut up just now? What did she say that deserved that response?" Ted continued to look very angry. He face palmed once again. "I'm just clumsy, I just had a clumsy moment. That's just her go to excuse for every thing these days, every time she falls or drops something or whatever, or spills vanilla black tea in her lap. Let me tell you something. I've known Brooke since high school okay? She was on the powderpuff football team and the gymnastics team, not to mention she's always been killer at ultimate frisbee." "What's your point?" Evangeline asked, blinking her eyes in confusion once again. Ted gave her an ultra condescending look. "Well DUH!" He said, "My point is that she's not clumsy. She's very co ordinated, but you wouldn't have known that from the way she dancing during the bride and grooms dance."

"Oh dear" Evangeline said, "What happened?" I couldn't help noticing that Ted was tearing up a tiny bit. He is so embarrassed about crying in front of people. The last time I saw him cry in public was when he was shit drunk "Let's just say she had a bunch of clumsy moments. I know that you're going to probably ask if she was drunk, but I'll tell you first hand that she absolutely was not. That was way before the bar opened, she didn't have anything to drink at dinner. She was fucking sober." "What do you think was going on?" Evangeline asked.

"You really want to know what I think?" Ted asked, his voice sounded like a combination of worry and anger. "I think she was trying to sabotage our wedding" He snapped, going back to just pure angry. "Is she usually that kind of person?" She asked. "Is that something she'd do?" "Not usually!" Ted snapped, folding his hands in her lap, "But it was something she did" Evangeline turned to me.

"Is that true Brooke?" She asked me. I just stared at the ground and shrugged. "I don't really want to talk about it" I said again, sounding like a broken record player I assume. "

"YES!" Ted answered./p

"I was asking Brooke" Evangeline said./p

"Well obviously she's not talking" He snapped. "She has nothing to say about it,

"Well you better make it quick" Evangeline says, "Time is running up" "I think I've said all I need to say" Ted said. Evangeline looks down at her watch.

"Well what do you know, time's up, better get going" She says flapping her hands in a pushing moment. "Andoiulee, Andoiulee!" God there is just something about how she said that, that really bugged the shit out of me.

"Ted and I sat in silence for the first couple of blocks. I was the first one to break the silence.

"Andoiulee, Andoiulee!" I say mimicking Evangeline angrily.

"Ted rolled his eyes. "I really don't understand what chocolates have to do with anything" He replied, also mimicking the therapist. 

"I was shocked, I had expected him to get mad at me, but instead miraculously, he was angrier at the therapist. I laugh nervously. "I don't want to hurt your feelings but you really hurt my feelings at the wedding" I said nervously.

"Ted laughed grudgingly. "How about the way she kept taking her glasses off and putting them back on? What the fuck was up with that?" He asked. "Did you notice how tiny her nose was?" I asked, "And how far her mouth was from her nose" Ted nodded. "I did notice, and what about the fact that she didn't do coffee" He cleared his throat. "Let's try this again. What kind of Tea do you want?" I laughed again and that time it wasn't so strained. We were comfortable again even if our bond was based on making fun of poor old ugly Evangeline. "I can really tell from the look on your face that you didn't like that, it hurt your feelings didn't it, how did it make you feel. Why don't you share some feeling words about it?" I said. Ted laughed again. I was really starting to miss that laugh "I hate to say this Brooke, but calling her Vic-Whore-ia, sounded a little bitchy don't you think?" Ted replied. Before I knew it, we were laughing our heads off, I started to get nervous that after we finished making fun of Evangeline, we would go back to not talking to each other. We pulled up to our driveway, and for some reason I thought for sure, we'd go back to hating each other. I knew for a fact that our mutual hatred for Evangeline was not going to fix our already strained marriage. Shockingly Ted took my hand. "C'mon Brooke" He said, "Let's have some make up sex" After that things were back to normal, it was a start to a really good relationship, at least that's what I thought. Also I was able to keep the strange symptoms of clumsiness at bay, maybe it was just nerves all along. But then once we got to Mexico, the symptoms of clumsiness showed their hideous faces once again.

"So now, here's what we got. A very short and pathetic excuse for a don't talk on the plane. Ted and I just sit in silence. I have the aisle seat and am staring out the window looking at nothing. I really wish I could tell my husband how I'm really feeling, but every time I try to, my throat feels all closed, and my body get's all sweaty. Ted appears to be asleep with his earbuds placed in each ear and his Ipod on his lap. He is still very much pissed. My brain feels like it is in a foggy mist once again, and I do not like it. I would like it much better if it was to be expected, if I knew what was causing it, if it were drug related but I don't know what is causing it, and it is not drug related. My entire body breaks into a cold sweat but at the same time a hot sweat. I do not realize it yet, but I am crying. I mean really letting it out crying, A full body cry. I am not crying silently, loud deep sobs cause my entire body to shake uncontrollably. I realize I have woken Ted up. He groans loudly. "I'm sorry to wake you" I sob.

"You all right?" He asks me. Surprisingly he is not super pissed. As a matter a fact not pissed at all. Worried

"No!" I sob. "I don't feel well, I want to get off"

"Is everything all right?" One of the stewardess asks.

"Apparently not" Ted says. My head feels more foggy and misty by the second, my hands start feeling like balloons again, but this time not inflated balloons, this time more like deflated balloons.

"What's the matter with you babe?" Ted asks.

"I don't know!" I moan. Tears stream down my cheeks. The stewardess stays by my side. A woman from across the Aisle stands up.

"She can have one of my Sonata's" She says.

"No!" Ted snaps, "There will be no sedating my wife." \

"It's a short lasting drug, it should wear off in an hour and a half" The woman says, "The flight is a couple hours" "Do you have anything stronger?" Ted asks, I don't understand him, one minute he's telling the strange woman not to sedate me, and the next he's begging her to give me something stronger.

"I do have a couple of Xanex" The woman says, "Is she a first time flyer?" She asks Ted, "I mean like no offense or anything"

"No" Ted says, "She's flown before many of times." He then turns to me. "What's going on?" He asks me. "What's wrong?" Tears continue streaming down my

"Take this" the woman says, handing me a white pill. I pop it in my mouth and drink the cup of cranberry juice cocktail.

""Atta girl" She says."Now just take some deep breaths" She tells me. I try taking a single deep breath, but I feel like there is no air in my lungs, my chest feels tight. "I can't breathe" I complain.

"You can" She says, "You're okay, you're just having an anxiety attack" She pats my hand.

"I don't think she's having an anxiety attack" Ted says. "Brooke what's wrong babe?" He asks me. My sweater suddenly feels too itchy, and maybe a little too tight."Are you all right dear?" The lady who gave me a xanex asks me. "I can't breathe" I moan once again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Ted/strong/span/p

"I stare at my wife, her face is turning all purple and blue. Now I am in full panic mode. "What's wrong babe?" I ask jostling her. I feel a fear like no other fear I have ever felt. My seat is starting to feel very itchy. Unfortunately I am unable to leave my seat because, there is turbulence and because I have a window and it's not so easy walking over her when she can't seem to move. She has her mouth and her eyes open and looks like a dead fish. "Brooke come on!" I say, giving her chest compressions "Breathe. Brooke breathe!" along with the turbulence, Brooke's condition get's continuously worse. Her arms lay limply at her side. "Breathe!" I shout again. "HELP!" I shout to no one in particular. "Somebody HELP!" I wake up a whole bunch of people. "Is there a doctor?" No one answers. I don't care about the fucking turbulence, I am not about to watch my wife die, on the airplane with out any known cause. "Somebody HELP!" I shout again. Tears roll down my cheeks and before I know it I am bawling. I am relieved to see that she is making progress, very little progress but progress none the less. She is breathing small shallow breaths, but at least she is breathing at all, her eyes are now closed instead of being open like a creepy dead fish. Apparently the Xanex has kicked in. The turbulence stops. For a split second I am convinced that she is okay. Her breathing is almost back to normal, but then seconds later, she is barely breathing at all. I shake her. "Brooke!" I shout. Tears stream down my cheeks, I am usually too proud to cry in public, but this is not one of those situations.

"Excuse me" A bland looking man in a suit and tie says, "Were you the one who was just screaming for a doctor?" "Oh my god!" I say, more tears rush down my cheeks. Tears of relief this time.

"Are you a doctor?" God what a stupid question, I'm sure he wouldn't be coming over to ask us if we needed a doctor, if he wasn't a doctor himself, or maybe he wasn't maybe he's just kind of an idiot or something. 

"I am" He says, "I'm actually going to a conference in Los Angeles" Man do I ever not care.

"I didn't ask!" I snap not trying to sound like a complete asshole, I just couldn't possibly be more interested in his conference in Los Angeles. But I hope I didn't sound like a complete asshole, since he is going out of his way to help me. "I'm sorry" I apologize (Duh! I apologized)

"What's going on here?" The doctor asks. "I don't know" I cry, "I'm really scared." I begin hyperventilating

"It's my wife" I say, "She's sick. I think" He then pulls out his medical bag. He pulls out a tiny flashlight, pulls open her eyelid and begins shining it in her eye.

"Her pupils look fine" He observes, which is weird because she was just given a xanex. Oh well maybe xanex doesn't cause the pupils to dilate, some sedatives don't after all. He then checks her pulse. "Weak" He says.

"What do you think is wrong with her?" I ask, "All I can say right now is, her pulse is weak and she's very lethargic" He then pulls out his stethoscope and places it gently to her chest.

"Is she okay?" I ask immediatly.

"I'm afraid not" The doctor says. "She has severe bradycardia" He says.

"And that means?" I ask, unable to help my self from being impatient. "It means her heartbeat is very slow and infrequent" "What are you going to do? You can do something about this can't you?" I ask. "I think our best bet is to get her to the hospital." "No!" I moan. "This is not good" She continues to be asleep, I've heard that Xanex is supposed to be a seven hour drug, so she'll be asleep for 5 more hours after the plane lands. "So there's nothing you can do? NOTHING?"

"I'm sorry" The doctor says, "I think she needs the emergence room"

"Are we landing soon?" I cry. The flight attendant answers the question. The button dings, and she announces that the plane is landing, and that everyone must return to their seats at once. "Hey" The doctor says, "Good luck" I nod, not wanting to say something rude, because I really don't feel like being polite to the ultra unhelpful guy who calls himself a doctor, but to be fair he probably actually is a doctor, seeing only a doctor would be able to hold a stethoscope next to someone's chest and diagnose them with something like bradycardia, unless of course he is a medical student or something, or just someone who knows a lot about medicine and for some reason carries around medical equipment.

"We're almost there babe" I say to her. "Hold in there" "We will be landing in Los Angeles, very soon" The attendant announces, /span/p 

"Please buckle up your seat belts and remove all electronics." I wish I didn't agree to having her take a Xanex in the first place she is out, I will probably have to carry both her and all my luggage, plus all of her luggage. No! I think to myself pushing that thought as far away from my head as possible, that is the least of my issues. What is important is if Brooke is all right. I can worry about luggage later. I carry her over my shoulder like a bag of potatoes, the same way I carried her last night after our disasterous game of table tennis. Only this time it is not so sexy, she looks like she just rolled out of bed which is true, her bed headed hair is in a low loose pony tail and she is not wearing make up "I can't wait long enough for the line to die down. I realize that it is a full plain and that other people have to get off just as much as we do. But eventually, I can not stand it any more. /span/p

"MOVE PEOPLE MOVE!" I shout. Everyone gives me intimidated looks, but I guess seeing me carrying my ailing wife over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, as well as the luggage we had taken on the plane, changes everyone's mind.

"Go!" an old lady says, "Get out of here!"

I almost forget to get all our non carry on suitcases, but then I remember all our important stuff. I freak out completely when I realize I don't really know what to do with all that stuff, I might crack my back open carrying all this luggage, and my wife. Cracking my back however should be the last thing on my mind. Priorities. Get Brooke to a hospital. I end up having to make two trips, which I am definitely not so happy about, not in the slightest. once everything is in place I speed as fast as I can over to the closest hospital. Brooke does not make any signs of waking up. "Hang in their babe" I say to her. You're going to be all right" This is a complete lie, or maybe not a complete lie, but a lie none the less"

There is a huge gap in my memory between the events between driving to the hospital and sitting in the waiting room. It all just happened so fast. So now I am nervously sitting in the waiting room, only the word nervous wouldn't suffice. I try to let my mind wander, it somehow wanders back to the evening before our honeymoon. Then night my old neighbors and good friends of ours Mac and Kelly had taken us out to dinner at the Fig Tree, which was our all time favorite restaurant. I really should have known there was something up with Brooke, because after a week of no falling spells or any clumsy moments, she was suddenly back at it again.

"C'mon Brooke they're here!" I said as a big blue van pulled up into our driveway. As soon as she got up from the couch she tripped and fell down. Thankfully she didn't get hurt, but she did however ruin one of the soles of her bright red knee high leather high healed boots, that matched beautifully with her Vera Wang red dress and fancy red hair barrettes. "You okay?" I asked her.

"Yeah!" She said, "My foot just fell asleep there" She smiled meekly. She got herself up from the ground as if it were nothing, then realized that something was not right "Oh man, the soul of my shoe" She cried. It appeared that it had broken off completely, but I really had no time to worry about it, not then

"Just put on another pair" I told her, "They're waiting on us" She seemed really hot and bothered about her shoe, and was a real hot mess. /span/p

"I wanted to wear these ones" She cried. She almost sounded like she was on the verge of tears, yet I had no idea why, it couldn't have possibly have been about her shoes, even though they were a really nice pair.

"Here just wear these!" I said handing her a different pair, this time not a pair of high heels. Clogs.

"I'm not wearing these!" She snapped, her voice filled with exasperation "Just slip them on" I told her evenly. She then dissolved into tears. I totally saw that coming, yet I'm not sure why. She'd just been moody as fuck since after our wedding. "I'm not wearing these god damnit!" She wailed. "They're hideous." I looked down at the brown, leather pair of clogs, she's wasn't wrong they were hideous. "What's going on with you sweetie?" I asked. "You seem really exasperated, are you all right?"

"Damnit Ted" She snapped, tears of anger ran down her cheeks, "I'm not exasperated, that was just my favorite pair of boots ever." When I said she seemed exasperated, I didn't just mean that day right then, I meant all week, she had been stand offish and moody all week. "

"We'll get you another pair" I say, "Maybe we'll get something in Mexico." She then took the pair of clogs as well as her broken high heeled boot and hurled them all at the wall. I had never seen Brooke, or anyone for that matter get so worked up over a broken shoe.

"We can't replace them" She sobbed, "You don't understand, those were custom made for me, and they were so damn expensive, Whitney got them custom made in Paris" I knew that it wasn't about the shoes, but I didn't dare say anything. There was suddenly a knock on the door. I felt so terrible about keeping them waiting. I rushed to the door right away. Mac and Kelly were standing at the door, they were both dressed up very nicely. "I'm so sorry to keep you two waiting" I said. Brooke's kind of a hot mess right now" "Is there anything we can do?" Kelly asked. "I don't know" I said, "She's having problems with her shoes. Brooke was sitting on the first floor of the staircase her face was still very wet. Her mascara was running again the same way it had been at our wedding.

"Are you okay sweetie?" Kelly asked. Brooke shook her head as more and more tears rolled down her cheeks. "It's a disaster" She moaned. She had always been a bit of a drama queen, but wow. "What happened?" Kelly asked. Brooke just pointed to the wall, where she had thrown her shoes.

"Oh dear" Kelly said, "It looks like you broke your heal" "It looks terrible" Brooke moaned bitterly.

"Hey" Mac sad giving her a generous pat on the shoulder. "Nothing a little super glue can't fix" Brooke once again broke into a fit of anger.

"Super glue?" She yelled, 'SUPER GLUE? It can absolutely not be fixed with super glue god damnit" She then went all doe eyed. "Oh, I'm sorry" She said. Her mood swings seemed like they were going to be an awful lot to get used to. Maybe she was just on her period or something. "You got any super glue?" Mac asked, "We got some in the garage" I said. "I'll take this" Mac says, taking the shoe.

"So where's Stella?" I asked Kelly. "She's at the sitters tonight?" She said. "I wanted this strictly to be an adult get together" 'Good luck with that' I thought bitterly to myself, Brooke was not behaving like much of an adult. "

"She's gotta be what four years old now?" I asked. "She's going to turn 5 in a couple of weeks" Kelly said proudly. Mac returned from the garage, with Brooke's left shoe. "Good as new" He said. "Thank you" Brooke said sullenly. She then looked disapprovingly at the heel. "

"What's wrong?" Mac asked. "It's too noticeable" She complained. She then pointed out that super glue was still leaking. God damnit what a spoiled princess she was being. "Not to worry" Mac said, he then took it over to the kitchen sink and cleaned it off with a rag."Here you are Brooke" He said when he was finished "good as new." Brooke continued to appear dissatisfied.

"Now what's wrong?" Mac asked. "Skid marks" She cried. "Hey" I said, "No one's going to be looking at your feet, let's just go already"

"It's okay" Kelly said, "We're actually here a bit early." "I think these shoes are ruined" Brooke said sadly, even though her other shoe was perfectly fine.

"Oh dear" Kelly said, "How did you ruin them?" She asked. 

"I was" She said, trying to think up a valid excuse, I assume "I was doing my laundry, our laundry I suppose and my bed sheet got wrapped around one of my feet and I tripped and fell, and yeah." Yeah I suppose that was basically the story except there was no laundry involved, she just fell, why the fuck didn't she just say her foot fell asleep? Her and her lies.

"It's probably never a good idea to do laundry in high heels" Kelly said smirking. "Do you have another pair of shoes you could wear, maybe another nice pair of red heels?" 

"She has about a million pairs of shoes" I said exasperated. "I'm not really sure what's so special about these ones. C'mon let's go" "Hold on" Kelly said, "We'll find you some new ones." Brooke was suddenly in fresh tears.

""I wanted to wear those ones" She moaned, "They were just SO perfect" "Do you have any other red ones?" Kelly asked. "Just wear the clogs" I said impatiently. "NO!" She cried. "I'm not wearing those hideous beasts on my feet"

"She's not lying" Mac had said."Those are some butt ugly shoes"

"They're not that bad" I said. "I'll get her some shoes" Kelly said, "Your bedroom is upstairs right?"

"Right" I said shortly. In what seemed like hours she reappeared with a pair of sandals.

"Will these work?" She asked.

"Sure!" Brooke said poutingly, obviously they were far from what she wanted on her feet, but she went with it, and for the rest of the night the broken boots were never mentioned again. I was glad that she didn't try to wear another pair of high heels, because she had a couple more falling spells as we got to the Fig Tree's parking lot. Almost over night she had developed a severe case of week ankles. I was beginning to wonder if maybe she wasn't really trying to sabotage our wedding, maybe she really did have something genuinely wrong with her. I tried to push it to the back of my mind. Things went smoothly during the first few minutes at the fig tree, but then once we got our glasses of water, I worried, and now in retrospect, I realize that maybe I didn't really worry as much as I should have. I should have been much more worried. She took a sip of her water, and suddenly her face turned red and purple the same way it had at her wedding when she choked on her wedding cake. As pathetic as it may sound I acted like a war veteran returning from Vietnam, PSTD about our wedding started to occur. She began coughing.

"Brooke you all right?" Mac asked pounding her hard the back. I recognized this from the wedding, she was choking all right. 

"Mac you know CPR?" I asked

"Yeah I know the Hiemlich menuver" He said, he then began giving her chest compressions the same way Garf had done at the wedding. Brooke started coughing up huge chunks of ice. "You all right?" Mac asked her again.

"Yeah I think so" She said. She then leaned over and vomited water like a drowning victim.

"What?" I ask, I have been very rudely snapped out of my reverie, not that it is by any means a reverie I want to relive in any way shape or form.

"We're going to run some tests on your wife, we need to ask you a couple of questions." A male nurse is telling me, /span/p

"Has she woken up yet?" I ask.

"Unfortunately not" The male nurse says

"When we were on the airplane, the lady across from the aisle gave her a Xanex" I tell him, "When?" He asks, "About three hours ago" I say, "It should have warn off by then, how big was the dosage?"

"I don't know" I say, "I didn't see her give it to her"

"I think she's going to be okay" The doctor says,

"I don't think so" I say, "She's not going to be okay. She's not okay at all" The nurse writes this down, it is so nerve racking to be talking about personal things like this with a doctor or nurse rather in the waiting room where other people can probably hear us. "Can we go somewhere in private?" I ask. "Sure of course" The male nurse says.

"She's not waking up?" I ask, I am in a state of panic now.

"She hasn't" The doctor says, "I want to see her" I cry, "I want to see my wife"

"Hang on" The nurse says, /span/p 

"Who says I can't see her?" I snap, "Listen, what's your name?" "It's Ted, Ted Sanders" I say, "We're going to have to keep her overnight" /span/p 

"Overnight?" I cry, "I'm sorry" He says, "I'm going to ask you some questions, try not to freak out"

"Don't tell me not to freak out!" I snap and am astonished by my own anger.

"It's going to be okay" He coaxes me.

"How could you say that?" I cry. "You can't talk to her, she's asleep, she can't give you any answers" 

"Which is exactly why I'm asking you" He explains putting on his glasses. I realize that, that was kind of an off thing to say, maybe I'm just in such a huge state of panic and anger that I can't get a single straight thought through my head. I really hope he doesn't want to check my head or anything like that. "I can't tell you how she's feeling" I say evenly, "Because she won't talk about it, she just sweeps it under a rug" The nurse nods. "Sweeps what under a rug?" He asks.

"She's been weird since our wedding" I say, I now feel even more terrible about ever even thinking she was trying to sabotage the wedding, but I suppose to my defense, what else would I would have expected, she did cry about my proposal. Oh my god, I think to myself, I was fucking drunk and I proposed to her of course she fucking cried. I am such a fucking asshole. I wish I could take it all back, now she's in the emergency room and hasn't woken up. "Is she going to be okay?" I ask as fat tears run down my cheeks. "I don't know" He says, "I can't tell you" "Fuck" I cry. "FUCK!"

"You might want to keep it down" He hisses, "There are children in this ward" I wipe off my tears. "Please tell me she's going to be okay" I then begin having a sobbing fit. "Please" "I understand that you're upset" He says, "But you're going to have to give me some rational answers," I clear my throat and wipe my tears. 

"Well first of all, she kept dropping the wedding ring, she just suddenly over night became a butter fingers. She like lost all her motor coordination" "That's not good" He says, "No damn right it's not" I sob, "Then she got even worse when it came to our dance, she just kept falling and bumping into things, she kept saying she was having clumsy moments, but she is not clumsy, that's just not who she is. She's so coordinated, so what gives?" The nurse looks at me as if he's had an aha moment. "She may have something wrong with her inner ear" He suggests, "Or" He puts on his glasses, "She may have a serious brain infection, motor clumsiness can often times be a hallmark symptom of Encephalitis"

"Oh my god!" I cry. "You really think so?" I don't really know too much about Encephalitis, but from what I do know it is a serious brain thing." "I think that may be a very good thing to test her for, go on" He says, I guess he assumes I have more to say. "She choked on her wedding cake, I don't know much about Encephalitis, is that a common symptom?""Choking on wedding cake?" He asks. I have no time for his humor or whatever that is supposed to be, or maybe he's really dumb enough to think that is what I meant "Choking" I say trying not to let my voice sound too harsh.

"It very well could be yes" He says. My heart races in side my chest, my stomach drops the way it does whenever I go on the screeching eagle ride at the amusement park, my shirt feels like it is sticking to my skin. My throat becomes very dry. I have to swallow a bunch before I can speak again.

"After the wedding she was doing really well, although I guess she did spill hot tea all over her during a meeting with the therapist,"  
>He nods his head slowly, "But actually now that I think about it, she really hasn't been doing fine" "Which is it?" The nurse asks, "you're going to have to be straight with me here son" "She wasn't doing well" I say. "She had more clumsy moments, she always laughed them off and tried to be cute and funny about them, and like I said earlier swept them under a rug" "I see" The nurse says, there is an annoyed heir about him. 

"I guess I just pretended she was doing fine just now because she made no big deal of it, she was just so, so, so nonchalant about it, I should have recognized it before, I should have known she might have something seriously wrong with her, I should have convinced her to go to the hospital right away. Then things took a turn for their worst on our honeymoon, she got so sick, she couldn't stop losing her balance, she couldn't even hold onto the ping pong racket. We cut the trip a day early, and she got really bad on the airplane, thank god there was a doctor on board, he diagnosed her with bradycardia" "Thanks for telling me" He says slowly, "You think you got something?" I ask, "Well before we do anything, we're going to try to rule out any serious brain infections, and that includes Encephalitis, Meningitis, and West Nile Virus" My shirt becomes all sticky again, I can not stop sweating, and that screeching eagle ride feeling in my stomach returns.

"Excuse me" A doctor says. "You're Brooke's husband is that right"

"Oh my god" I say,/span"Is she okay?" "She's fine, her heart beat is back to normal, and she is awake, she's eating some applesauce" That is all good news, the fact that she's eating applesauce is a little irrelevant and was to tell you the truth something I could have easily gone without hearing, but whatever. "So she's okay" I say, relief spills over me. "Her pulse is unusually low, so we might have to keep her over night, and as my nurse has informed you, we will have to run some tests" "Oh my god" I cry, I hope I don't sound too mushy about all this, but I really can't help it. "Can I see her?" I ask. "You better make this fast" He says, "We got tests to do, thank you for your help Ted" He says

I rush into her hospital room. "Are you all right?" I ask throwing my arms around her. "No!" She sobs. "No I'm not Ted. I'm sick"

"Wait what?" I ask, she can't possibly know that she's sick already. "You don't know that for sure" I say, even though I am certain that she obviously is.  
>'Times New Roman';""I can know that" She says, "There's been something wrong with me since the day of our wedding" She struggles a lot with her little cup of applesauce. I almost want to spoon feed it to her, but I am not that type to be all mushy and sentimental. The nurse sticks his head in the door. "Excuse me" He says, "I'd like to ask your wife a couple of questions, I may have to ask you to leave" I hold Brooke's hand tightly,<p>

"Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of me." "I'm going to ask you to leave" he repeats I reluctantly leave. I stand next to the door with my ear pressed tightly against it. "How are you feeling?" I hear him ask my wife. "I'm looking for specific answers. The voices sound muffled due to being behind the door, but I have a pretty good idea of what they were saying.

"I feel like my head's in a foggy mist" I hear her say. There is a long pause, I assume that maybe he is busy writing something down, but I do know one thing and that is the silence is not a good thing. "My hands feel like inflated balloons" I hear her say. "Interesting way of putting it" The nurse says, I can swear I hear him scribbling away with the pencil and pad of paper.

"Excuse me!" A night nurse says. I am so astonished that I jump, I have gotten to thinking that there is no one else in this hospital, just me, Brooke, and the nurse. "What are you doing there son?" "I'm um, just leaving yeah" "Is that so?" She asks. "Okay fine" I say, "I'm staying, I'm trying to figure out what's going on with my wife, she's in that room right here" "I'm really sorry to hear that" She says, "That's really too bad, but I'm going to ask you to leave." "I need to know what's going on" I say, "I know you're really freaking out and everything, and I can't say I blame you and everything but it's hospital policies. I know she's your wife and everything but you need to go sit in the waiting room, just like everybody else" "Fine!" I snap. Just then the door swings open and the nurse steps out. "We're going to have to run some tests" He says, "What kinds of tests" I ask "From talking to her, it sounds like it's one of the brain diseases I suggested. You should get some rest, why don't you go home?" "I'm staying here" I say


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 1: Brooke **

I am scared to death when I find myself in a hospital bed, it's really weird how fast things happened, last thing I remember, I was sitting on the plane struggling to breathe, as the woman from across the aisle was telling me to take deep breaths, now suddenly I am in the hospital bed with tubes hooked up to me. It suddenly dawns on me. I'm sick. I must be. The doctor stands next to me and hands me a cup of applesauce. I can't eat. My stomach is tied in huge knots.

"Nice to see you awake, how you feeling? You all right?" "What happened?" I ask. "Your husband brought you in" He explains, "He was carrying you over his shoulder and really freaking out, he said you were just getting back from your honeymoon" He clears his throat "I just sent my nurse to speak with your husband in the waiting room," He tells me, "We're going to run some tests, you were out for quite a while, so the nurse couldn't ask you any questions and we needed answers right away, he went outside to talk with Ted is it?" I nod. Ted can not give him any accurate answers, because I have not been able to give him accurate answers, I have not wanted to.

"tests?" I ask, "What kinds of tests?" "We don't know yet" The nurse says, "we're going to have to talk to your husband and see what he has to say. I try to sit up straight in my bed. My hospital gown feels particularly itchy right now. Tears begin stinging my eyes. I blink back unshed tears

"I'm not going to cry" I announce, making a promise to both myself and to the doctor, he smooths out my blankets.

"You are very brave" He tells me, even though I am as scared as shit. More unshed tears fill my eyes.

"I'm not going to cry" I say again blinking my eyes. "We're not going to judge you if you do." The nurse says, "Well I'm not" I say. I want him to think that I am going to be brave about all of this, I want him to think that maybe I'm just being optimistic and maybe that both tests are going to turn out negative and it will all be okay. The truth of the matter is, I can not cry because I am in a complete state of shock. Maybe I have cried myself out already and everything anyway, so there are no tears left for me to cry. Either way, I'm not going to cry. "Maybe you're just in a little bit of shock right now" The doctor suggests. I nod my head slowly. Just then the door opens and Ted comes flying into my room

"Are you all right?" He asks me throwing his arms around me. Suddenly all the shock has somehow warn off and I am able to cry again,

"No!" I sob, "Ted I'm sick" I sob and sob and sob,

"You can't know that for sure" Ted says stroking my hair.

"I'm in the hospital for gods sake" I snap. "The nurse is going to run a couple of tests" He tells me. Now I am in a complete state of panic.

"What kinds of tests?" I cry.

"He's going to talk with you first" He tells me, "But he's pretty sure it's Encephalitis"

"Oh god!" I say, I cover my mouth and continue to sob fitfully. I have no idea what Encephalitis is, I've actually never heard of such a disease in my life, all I know is it sounds frightening. "What is that?" I ask still sobbing.

"It means swelling of the brain" The doctor tells me.

"Oh God!" I sob again. The nurse then peaks his head through the door.

"Good to see you awake" He says. "Your husband has answered quite a few questions about your delicate condition" He tells me, and I really hate the way he says it. I am delicate, I break easily. I am pathetic. He then turns to Ted, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave" He tells my husband. Ted holds on tightly to my limp hand.

"Whatever you need to say, you can say in front of me" The nurse shakes his head.

"I don't think so son" He says. Ted reluctantly walks out the door. "What did he say?" I ask, I am unable to stop the tears from falling, I have promised everyone in the room that I wasn't going to cry and here I am blubbering like an idiot. "Well" He says, peering down at his yellow note pad, "He says you've been falling a lot"

My stomach suddenly turns a somersault and the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up. I suddenly become defensive just like I have so many times before. "Clumsy moment" I say almost instinctively. The nurse gives me an irritated look,

"That answer may work at home with your husband, but is not going to work in this hospital"

"I'm sorry" I said pitifully, "force of habit" "No reason to get all defensive" He says "And you don't have to be embarrassed, the reason you're here is so we can figure out what's wrong with you"

"Okay yeah" I say, "I've been falling a lot but I've always been kind of a klutz" I kind of try to smile even though on the inside I am feeling sad as shit, but at the I am so scared to death of being grilled by a professional like this. He puts on his glasses,

"Not according to your husband" "Wait what?" I ask I guess I have kind of spaced out. He clears his throat, "You have amazing coordination" He says, "You're an active participant in Gymnastics" He says, "And you've excelled in other sports as well"

"So?" I ask, I notice I am starting to sound defensive again. I clear my throat. "You have to let this clumsy chic of yours go, and maybe admit that you need a doctor." Tears run down my cheeks. "I was" I say, "I was hoping I could get out of having tests" I cry, "

You do understand you have to be honest with me" I let out a loud single sob.

"I just don't want to get tested for something as scary as what was it Encephalitis you said?"

"Well on the other hand" The nurse says, "Wouldn't it be nice if we ruled that disease out?" "I suppose you're right" I say, "From what your husband said, it seemed like a textbook case of Encephalitis"

"Oh god!" I cry again. I do not like crying so much, I'm sure nobody does, but I can't stop.

"Am I going to die?" I ask. The doctor gives me a bleak look but he doesn't answer my question. I am at my whits ends. "Maybe you can help me try to rule out Encephalitis" Just the word it's self sounds terrifying, horrifying even. I begin shivering uncontrollably.

"How are you feeling?" He asks me

"Bad" I sob, and I can't stop sobbing. He looks at me sternly. "I'm going to need some better answers then that" He says, "Let's be more specific" I sob so hard my body is shaking. That scary feeling, that my hand is ballooning returns.

"My hand feels like it it's blown up like a balloon" "Wow" He says jotting down notes. I look down at my hand, once again it is normal.

"What else?" He asks "My head feels foggy I know I was given a Xanex and that it takes a long time to wear off, but I've been feeling this fog long before that."

"So you feel like you're drugged all the time?" "Exactly" I say. The whole room feels like it's spinning, my legs feel like someone has placed a bunch of hot needles in them, it is so sickening that a huge shock absorbs my body, the kind of shock a person get's from hearing nails on a chalk bored. I shudder uncontrollably

"Brooke hey" The nurse says shaking me, "Are you all right?"

"Hot needles" I cry. Suddenly.

"Can you explain that to me?"

"My legs" I say as fat tears roll down my cheeks. I cover my mouth as if I am about to vomit which I really feel like I'm going to.

"Would you like a bucket?" He asks me. I nod. He hands one to me, I then begin vomiting the strawberry daiquari sobe drink I had gotten at the vending machine at the airport, as well as the peanuts, and cranberry juice cocktail I have gotten on the airplane.

"You all right?" The nurse asks me. I shake my head. I then throw up a second time and then a third. The terrible dizziness increases about 50 billion times.

"I think Encephalitis sounds like an almost confirmed diagnosis" He says. "I'm going to break the news to your husband and then we're going to run a couple tests" "A couple?" I cry, "What else am I being tested for?" "

We want to rule out any other brain infections" He then walks to the door.

"Hang in there" he tells me, he walks out the door leaving me sobbing in my hospital bed. The feeling of the room spinning returns. I vomit again but this time I miss the bucket. I suddenly realize a new sensation. The hot needle's in my legs are now replaced with the feeling of nothing. They are completely numb. I let out a loud blood curdling scream. A night nurse is at my bed side in a flash.

"You okay ma'am?" She asks.

"I can't feel my legs" I cry, "They're numb" I cry and cry and cry and cry. She strokes my back. "And it's not just that" I moan, "I ruined my entire wedding, and honeymoon"

"Would you like me to give you something to calm down?" She asks. I nod.

"What do have?" I ask. I really wish the Xanex hasn't worn off. "Here's a valium" She says placing a tiny pink pill in my hands. For some reason I don't pop it in my mouth right away, I just lay in bed crying hysterically, with the pill tightly held in my fist. Luckily the night nurse presses the red button right away. Just then the doctor and his nurse come rushing in. The nurse is carrying a couple of syringes, more then a couple for that matter, I can tell for a fact that those are the tests.

"You called us?" The nurse asks. "I did" The night nurse says. "She says she can't feel her legs" "Well that's not good" The doctor says. He seems even more sure of himself then he has before. "Have you taken your valium?" The night nurse asks turning to me. The valium. I have forgotten all about the tiny pink pill balled up in my fist. I shake my head and open up my limp hand, it falls to the floor. The night nurse picks it up from floor and pops it into my mouth like I am a helpless 0 year old. She holds a cup of water to my mouth.

"C'mon girl drink" she advises me."Drink, drink, drink, Atta girl" she says.

"All right let's get this over with" The doctor says, which I have to admit doesn't sound very professional. His nurse then presses the needle into my arm. I have never by any means had a problem with shots, yet I found myself bawling hysterically, I think it is more about what the shot represents then the shot itself. The night nurse gently strokes my arm with her finger. "It's going to be okay" She coaxes me. "The pill should start kicking in any minute now" I think it should have kicked in the moment I took it. I suppose it did end up working all right, because the next thing I know, the nurse is standing in front of my bed nudging me.

"You're free to go Brooke" "W'hat?" I asked weakly. "I said. Your tests all came back negative" He says, he is smiling widely. "Isn't that great news?" I really don't know if it's such good news or not, now I just have something wrong with me and I can not put a name or face to it, on the other hand I don't have something scary with a really complicated name like Encephalitis.

"Yeah I guess that's great news" I say.

"What do you mean you guess?" He asks, "I thought you'd be over the moon about this"

"I guess, I'm just a little drowsy from the medicine" I say. "It should wear off in a few" He says, "Your husband is waiting for you in the waiting room" "Thank you" I say quietly I let them wheel me into the waiting room. Ted is trying to sleep, key word trying while sitting up in a chair, he has his arm tightly placed on the arm of the chair. One of the nurses nudges him. "What?" Ted asks, he seems really cranky about being woken up and I can't say I blame him. "Your wife is ready to go" he says. Now all of a sudden Ted is fully awake.

"Brooke oh my god!" He says, he slowly helps me out of my chair. "Are you all right?" He asks throwing his arms around me. I slowly back away.

"I got tested negative" I tell him.

"Wait a second" He says, "That's good news isn't it?" Tears fill my eyes. I sharply turn around the other way. "Isn't it?" He asks reaching out, touching me on the shoulder and turning me around. I shake my head slowly. "No!" I say.

"What's wrong Brooke?" Ted asks. "Why aren't you happy?"

"Her pills are starting to wear off" The doctor says, "I'm sure when it's all warn off, she'll be overjoyed" "What did you give her?" Ted asks almost accusingly. "We gave her a valium" The doctor says, "It's known to cause people to be a little bit weepy as a side affect" It's not that, it's not that at all. It's like I'm living in an episode of the show Mystery Diagnosis.

"What's wrong?" I repeat. "I have something really wrong with me, and I can't put a name to it"

"Oh" Ted says, and that's all he can say, no soothing, hopeful words. Just oh. "Should we go home?" He asks. I am really annoyed that he doesn't have anything else to say.

As we get into the car, I realize for the first time that it is the holiday season. Christmas is just around the corner, I didn't realize how close our wedding was to Christmas, it just never occurred to me. Let's just say we did nothing for Thanksgiving. I suppose we were too busy getting ready for our honeymoon that we forgot to celebrate it. The whole city of Las Angeles is covered with Christmas lights. A whole community of people are working together to decorate the gigantic Christmas tree children are all lined up to sit on Santa's lap, and everyone is strolling around the block for the annual Christmas stroll. It should all put Ted and I in the Christmas spirit yet it doesn't. As a matter a fact it's only making me more depressed. Nothing says Christmas spirit like getting tested for serious brain damage and even worse not getting a diagnosis. I stare out the window in silence. "You okay?" Ted asks me. I shake my head. "Hey you don't have Encephalitis" He says trying to cheer me up. "Aren't you even a little happy about that?" I suppose I'm a little happy but really not that much actually. In fact I'm really not all that happy at all. "No" I say. "Ted you don't get it" I say tightly.

"If it's not Encephalitis or any of those other disease's it's obviously something." Ted is silent for a really long time. The car is filled with an eerie silence the same eerie silence that has haunted us the day of our wedding. "Hey come here" Ted says. He then hugs me closely. I suppose I have cried out all of my tears, because I really feel like crying but can not shed a single tear. "It's okay" Ted says to me. He drops a kiss on the top of my head. "It's going to be okay"

The next day, I go into work like it is a normal day. "I think you should take the day off" Ted tries to convince me.

"I gotta go in" I say, "I have a really important gig it's Christmas and all." It's not something I'm particularly excited about, we do stuff like that every year, where we have to dress up in sexy Vera Wang christmas outfits and pose for the camera so we can get pictures for next years calendar, it get's so boring every year, but it's sadly important that everyone in the Vera Wang agency be there, because it's kind of an annual tradition. As a matter a fact it is not just the Vera Wang agency, it is everyone the female division of every single modeling agency in LA. Christmas is a huge holiday for the modeling business and if anyone should know that it's Ted.

"You can barely stand up straight" He says, "Let alone walk, and especially not drive"

"I'll take the sub" I say, "I gotta go in today, I'm already late"

"Brooke listen to me" He says stroking my hair, "Take the day off" I jerk away from him and head out the door.

"Brooke" He calls after me. I begin heading out the door. I'm surprised I have made it all the way to the subway station without having another falling spell.

"Brooke you're at least 10 minutes late" Candy says, "Let's hurry up" She says clapping her hands.

"C'mon girls, let's all line up" Just then the door swings open.

"Excuse me" A girl with a very thick European accent says,

"I'm new to this agency." "Great" Candy says happily.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Victoria" She says.

"Everyone" Candy says, "I'd like to introduce a new model this is Victoria, what's your last name again.

"Czchevkek" Victoria says. "I'm from Russia, well I've been in America for a couple of years now, but I'm new to Vera Wang" It suddenly dawns on me. This is Vychtouriyah, the same Vychtouriyah who Ted dated and broke up with. The Vycthouriyah who was my rebound, no wait, I was HER rebound. Just then I feel the same feelings I felt at the hospital, on the airplane, in the basement of the Hilton and most importantly at my wedding. Once again the room is spinning and my hands are ballooned. I suddenly lose my balance like I have so many times before, I fall sideways crashing into all the other girls and we all fall over like a stack of domino's.

"What the fuck klutz?" The girl next to me says, I don't recognize her either she's from a different modeling agency or I don't know every single person in the one I'm in. Or maybe I am just so out of it, that I just can't tell anyone apart. As I slowly help myself up from the ground, I can't help but notice everyone is angry at me. "Nice going Klutz" Another girl says.

"Hey!" Candy says. Clapping her hands. "Get it together." She continues to clap her hands. "Brooke" She says motioning for me to come over. "I'd like to speak with you in private" She turns to the rest of the models. "All right girls" She says, clapping her hands again, "Start lining yourselves up for our first photo, we'll be back shortly." I follow Candy back to her office. I clear my throat.

"What do you want to speak to me about?" I ask her.

My voice is shaking with nervousness I can tell. "First of all, are you all right?" She asks. I suddenly feel my heart pound across my chest.

"Yeah I'm fine" I say nervously.

"Are you sure honey?" Candy asks, "You've really got me wondering."

"I just had a clumsy moment" I lie, I've been saying those words so much that it has lost it's meaning. "It seems live you've had a lot of clumsy moments" Candy says, I forgot that she was at our wedding.

"I'm really worried about you" She says. She nervously taps her fingers against her desk, I can tell for a fact that she is really nervous. "I'm not sure how I'm going to break this to you but, I think I'm going to let you go.

"Let me go?" I ask, "What do you mean"

"This isn't an easy thing to do Brooke" She says, "You're a great addition to our agency and everything, it's just that modeling is all about coordination and balance, and you don't seem to have any of that these days. Don't forget I was at your wedding" I blink back tears.

"So I'm fired?" I ask. She might as well just come out and say it, I know that's what she's trying to tell me. "Basically" She says. I feel the room start to spin again, it's really freaky how that feeling just comes and goes. I place my hands to my temples. "Are you okay?" Candy asks. Without saying a word, I bolt towards the door. I rush to the nearest little girls room and realize that the icky hot needles have returned, I know any minute I am going to go back to the point of feeling complete numbness. The feeling is so sickening that I vomit right in the sink. I am unable to make it to the bathroom. The cream of rice cereal mixed with applesauce and raisins, rushes out of my mouth like hot lava. The door swings open.

"You okay?" A voice asks. I know right away that is Vychtouriyah. She already has one of the most unique voices I've ever heard. I slowly wipe my mouth. We are standing right across from each other and it is the most awkward thing I've ever experienced. I just vomited in front of the girl who was my rebound. Or wait, I was her rebound, I don't know why I keep forgetting who was who's rebound. But I somehow have the sickening feeling that maybe Vychtouriyah is my replacement, maybe Candy was plotting this whole thing all along. I vomit in the sink once again.

"Oh my" Vychtouryah says, "You okay? What did you eat?" I wish she didn't ask, I don't want to think about what I had eaten for breakfast. I want to ask an equally rude question maybe something on the lines of "What happened to your face?" When Ted said he was dating a Russian model, I pictured a skinny tall blonde girl with the perfect teeth and a perfect face. She has a beautiful body, but I swear the girl is a complete butter face she almost looks like a cave person. I do not say that because truth be told despite everything, I don't think she's all that terrible.

"I got fired!" I cry. "Candy fired me!"

"Oh, I'm sorry" Vychtouryah says. Damn right she's sorry. She's probably really happy I got fired and now she's has a place in the Vera Wang agency. She doesn't appear sorry. "Now I only have one O in my name?" "Wait what?" Vychtouryah says. "I'm Broke!" I cry. I realize now what an idiotic thing I just said. I have plenty of money in the bank.

"Wait, you're Brooke? As in Brooke Shy? As in Ted Sander's high school sweet heart?" She asks, I'm surprised she put it together and got the connection

"Guilty" I say nodding my head.

"Whoa ho" She says, "Ted's told me all about you" I am too busy being miserable to even engage in the conversation. "Hey" She says, "What is wrong?" Ted made her out to sound like a total bitch but she really doesn't seem to bitchy to me.

"Nothing I'm fine" I say.

"You don't seem very fine" Vychtouriyah says. I then realize that my legs are all numb and jello'y again, I become so frustrated I punch my fist through the glass mirror. I had no idea how strong I was, but I have ended up shattering the glass. Shards fall everywhere.

"What the fuck Brooke?" Vychtouriyah cries. "What's the hell is the matter with you?" My body shakes like crazy as I grab a huge piece of glass from the mirror. I firmly take hold of it and begin carving it into my skin.

"Brooke no" It's really not what it looks like, I am not one of those weirdo' s who slit because of depression, I am depressed and everything, but that is not why I'm slitting, I just want to know that I feel something in my legs. Unfortunately I feel nothing, it is like I am carving into something that is not a part of me. I let out a loud shriek. "You need help. You need serious help" Vychtouriyah says, "Hey don't judge me!" I snap, "This isn't what it looks like, I am not a slitter." "Brooke you just slit open your entire right leg" Vychtouriyah says. I try to get up, but it's hard to stand when my leg's are so jello'y. I slowly collapse to the floor.

"Oh my god" I cry, "I, I can't move. I can't walk" "May I see your cellphone?" She asks. "It's in my purse" I am once again overcome by an enormous crying spell. "I'll call Ted" She says.

"Call Ted?" I cry, "Call Ted, why don't you call 911?" "I'm sorry" Vychtouryah says, I just kind of freaked out a little bit there, I really wasn't thinking." 'Damn right' I think to myself. Vychtourya nods her head. "Right on it" She says.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Ted**

I am listlessly sitting on the couch watching animal planet, or well let's just say not watching it, although I do have it on, I am paying absolutely no attention whatsoever, it is 5:00 now, Brooke left at 9:30 in the morning and her shifts usually end at 3:30. Where on earth can she be? I should have been firmer with her, I should have followed her out the door when she left and dragged her home. I'm not sure why but somehow the idea of letting her out of the house seems almost 50 billion times scarier with an unknown disease then it would with a known disease. I'm not sure why it took me so long, but now I realize why Brooke is so unhappy, it's down right nerve wracking not to have a name tagged to whatever's wrong with her. when my phone starts going off. Right away I see that the phone call is from Brooke. I am so relieved that I can't stand it "Brooke" I cry over the receiver

"Ted it's me" The voice on the other end of the receiver is not Brooke's voice it is, could it be? Vychtouryah! Why the fuck is she calling me and more importantly, why is she calling me on Brooke's phone? "I'm sorry she says, I wasn't sure I wanted to call you or not, I know it's been very awkward and everything, we haven't seen each other in months and last time we say each other things were really ugly" I am as confused as can be.

"What's going on here?" I ask, "Brooke, you're ex girl friend you know? She is sick" Vychtouryah says.

"She is in hospital, she was taken in by helicopter" Holy shit! I think to myself, she must be really really sick if she had to ride in a helicopter. Helicopter's seem like their only used for serious accidents, and really serious illnesses. "It's been like eight hours" Vychtouryah continues on. "and like I said, I wasn't sure whether I should call you or not" Oh my god, I think to myself, Brooke's been in the hospital for eight hours. something must have happened during the photo shoots, I'm assuming that was the last and only place she went today, besides the hospital. I can't help feeling the slightest bit responsible. I knew it was a terrible idea for her to go out today, like I said before I should have been more firm with her.

"Wait a sec" I say, something seems very fishy, my ex girlfriend knows that Brooke is in the hospital? How on earth could she possibly know that, how does she even know Brooke personally.

"Wait a sec what?" Vychtouryah asks. "How do you know about all this?" "I was there I saw the whole thing, she vomited in the sink, then she punched her fist into the glass, and then" There is a long silence. "Then she cut her leg open, with one of the shards that is, then she said she couldn't feel her legs and couldn't move like she was paralyzed or something" When did she see all this? I can't help wondering to myself, when could she have possibly seen all this? It starts getting fishier and fishier by the second.

"At the agency" She says. "Vychtouriyah you moved to San Francisco" Vyctouriyah let's out a laugh of utter frustration.

"Oh my god Ted" She says, "You really are dumb, you've always been dumb, it's never been about smarts with you." That's really not fair. Obviously I'm just not thinking straight because I am fucking worried. How could she just go and drop that horrible bombshell about Brooke being in the hospital and not expect me to react? "I can't believe I have to spell this all out to you" She says, her voice is now on the verge of tears.

"I got a job in LA, I switched modeling agencies duh!" "I see," "So she got to the hospital at what time?"

"10:30" She says. Now I am really steaming with anger.

"Why the fuck didn't you call me then, why did you have to wait 7 hours?" I snap.

"Oh my god Ted" She cries. "Do you really seriously think that would have been an easy thing for me to do?" "All right fine" I say not wanting to argue with her any further. "I'll be there in a bit" I search everywhere but I cannot find my key's anywhere. I tear down the entire house looking for my keys, only to find that they are safely attached to my key chain which is around my ring finger.

"Damnit!" I shriek. No time to be embarrassed or to even question whether I am in my right mind or any of that shit. I need to be at the hospital with my wife. I panic when I realize that maybe hospital visits are going to be a normal part of everyday life from now on. I rush out to my car. I don't care about the speed limit, I drive as fast as I can, I am unable to pay attention to the fact that a police car is at my tale end, or maybe it is just that I don't give a fuck. "Oh shit" I yell loudly. I pull over like a good Samaretin. The cop motions for me to come over. Just my god damn fucking luck it is the exact same cop that busted our frat when Mac and Kelly called them to say we were being too loud. "I'm going to have to write you a couple tickets" He says. "God damnit!" I snap, "I can't do this right now. My wife's had a medical emergency, I have to visit her, I have to be with her" I am crying and their's really nothing more embarrassing then crying in front of a police officer, but I cannot stop.

"I'm very sorry to hear that" He says, "But I still have to write three tickets, for the three demerits" "First of all you sped, and you ran a red light, and you didn't pull over right away"

"Are you fucking serious?" I snap. He raises his eye brow and his mouth forms a straight line.

"That will be four demerits" He says, "Let me see your drivers license" "Fine" I say reluctantly handing it over. "Nice to see you again Teddy" He says smiling. "So I'm off the hook?"

"Hell no" He says. "That will be $400 sir"

"Fine!" I say, "Whatever, fine" I throw a wad of cash at him. "I really got to go, this aught to cover it" I say. "Hold on there son" He says, "Drive safely, or next time it's going to be more then just a ticket" "Fine" I say hastily, "Can't this wait?"

"Whatever" He says, "Have a good rest of the night, and Teddy?" "I go by Ted now" I say. I know with all the anxiety I am feeling about my wife, the last thing I need is to be annoyed that the cop just called me Teddy, but I can't help myself, just hearing the name Teddy is shudder inducing. "Fine" The police officer says. "Be safe, do you think you can do that for me?" "Yes sir" I say lamely. My phone suddenly goes off again. It's Brooke again.

"Brooke?" I ask.

"Sorry no" Damnit it's Vychtouriyah again. I guess she still has Brooke's phone.

"Where are you?" She asks. "I'm on my way." I say, I then get into my car and drive, luckily no other cops are there to pull me over, but I do have a hell of a time finding a parking spot. My phone blares off again. It says Brooke again but I'm not going to fall for that, "Hey me again" Vychtouriyah says.

"Are you there yet?" She asks. "Just parked my car" I say, I head over to the emergency room. I can't believe she just expects us to go back to being good friends as if she didn't walk out on me and tell me she wanted a real man. I think I'm probably about as much of a real man as they get, so I have no idea what she could have been talking about. As I enter the ER, Vyctouriyah, is the first person I see. She is sitting in the waiting room, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. She appears to be on the verge of tears.

"Ted" She cries, "Oh thank god Ted you're here" With that she get's up from her seat, throws her arms around me and sobs. What does she think she's doing? "Oh Ted!" She sobs, she melts into my body sobbing. It's hard to back away from her when she appears so vulnerable. I do not want to comfort her, first of all, she's my ex girlfriend and I'm married, secondly, she was a complete bitch when she broke up with me so how dare she expect me to be kind to her? And thirdly she's only known Brooke for a day, not even, she's only known her for maybe two hours at most, so what gives her the right to sob about her like they are really great friends all of a sudden? "Oh Ted hold me" She moans. It is really weird, she must have known Brooke and I were together, other wise she wouldn't think to call me, but I suppose she did refer to her as my ex girlfriend. 'Your ex girlfriend you know' I back away very fast.

"Damnit Vychtouriyah" I snap. "NO! No I won't hold you! On top of how bitchy you were to me, and this making it all about you shit when it has nothing to do with you, I'm married, doesn't the ring on my finger give that away at all? Brooke, my ex girlfriend you know is actually my wife god damnit. Vychtouriyah wipes the tears from her eyes.

"Oh Ted" She says, covering her eyes. "I had no idea, I didn't know"

"It's okay Vychtouriyah" I snap irritably. "How would you have known that? And what gives you the right to cry over her as if the two of you are best friends ever?" "It doesn't matter" She sobs, "It was very disturbing, she's so sick they moved her to the ICU." The intensive care unit. My eyes turn as wide as dinner plates and I mean that in the least literal sense possible. I suddenly jolt away from her and start heading to the ICU, which is god fucking damnit on the other side of the building on the fifth floor. I do not want to take the elevator, the last thing I want is to be stuck in a tiny room with other people, while I try to or rather pretend to wait patiently while everyone get's off. I quickly turn around to face Vychtouriyah.

"I suppose I owe you a pretty big thank you" I say. "Thank's for finding my wife, and I'm sorry I got mad at you for waiting so long to make a call" "By the way" She says, she hands me Brooke's phone, "Take this" I take it right away. It is already 5:30 and 5:30 is apparently rush hour in the emergency room. It is also the time when the housekeepers start serving dinner and I suppose also around the time when a whole group of new people are rushed in on stretchers. I have to weave my way through the crowed. I try very hard not to bump into everyone, it would be very rude of me and also quite a mess if I bumped into one of the dinner treys and made everything spill. Screw that! I think to myself, Brooke is in the ICU god fucking damnit. I hurry passed the gift shop, I almost consider getting her a little something like maybe a teddy bear, but their's really nothing more corny and hallmark original movieish then getting someone a teddy bear when they're sick. I bolt over to the far end of the hospital where their is a stair case. The good thing about being a model is it really keeps a person in shape. I am able to run up all four flights of stairs without losing my breath, all though I am slightly out of breath when I reach the fifth case of stairs. I huff and puff like the big bad wolf over to the front desk. "I'm here to see Brooke Sanders" I say, "Brooke Sanders eh?" The receptionist says. She then begins scrolling down her computer.

"Room 580 E Wing" She says. "You're in luck, visiting hours have just begun. "E wing?" I ask panting. Just my luck, it is on the far end of the ward. As I scout out E wing and am heading towards Brooke's room I notice a female nurse is monitoring the hall.

"Excuse me" I say, "I'm a little lost here, could you tell me where Brooke Sanders is?" I am really confused because the rooms are only labeled 500 to 517. "Where is 580" She giggles a little,

"I'm sorry" She says, "It's in kind of in an obscure location. Follow me" When we get to room 580 a male doctor is standing outside. It says on his name tag that he is a neurologist. My stomach turns a back flip. "Oh no!" I think. "Oh fucking no"

"Excuse me" He says, "Are you here to visit Brooke?" "Yes" I say, "I'm her husband."

"There's something I'd like to show you" He says. He takes out a couple of slides of her brain which he says are EMG scan. I Cover my mouth. "What does all this mean?" I cry. "It means she has Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis other wise known as ALS" He says. "ALS?" I cry, "What even is that?" "It's more commonly referred to as Lou Gehrig's disease you've heard of that haven't you?" "I have not" I say, although I am very vaguely familiar with the baseball player Lou Gehrig. "What's going to happen to her?" I cry. "Is she going to get better?" huge lumps form in my throat. He doesn't answer right away, and that is really making me nervous. "Would you like to see her?" He asks. I guess that question is going to be left unknown for the time being.

"Yeah" I'd like that. I learn that I am crying again, I open the door, Brooke is sitting on her bed, I expected her to be rocking back and forth on her bed bawling her eyes out, but she is not. She is just sitting their very still, with a blank look on her face. "Hey" I say waving my hand in front of her face. She doesn't say a thing. "Brooke you okay?" I ask. She looks right through me and I am scared to death that maybe this is because of her disease. I know that it's affecting her brain, but I don't know how, or what part of her brain is affected, but I am almost certain she is gone. Panic rushes through me.

"I'm just trying to process all this" She finally says. "I just feel so numb, physically and emotionally." I realize for a fact that she must be in terrible shock. "I feel cold, nothing" She says, her voice comes out sounding dark, cold and dreary. It is the same eerie sadness I recognized from our honeymoon or maybe on the other hand, I do not recognize it. I don't think I've ever seen her so sad and vulnerable. There is also just something about her hospital room that is adding to the whole sadness factor, it is just so empty, the walls, beds and night stand are all the same color, a depressive grayish white. "So I guess the doctors told you about your disease" She nods her head slowly. "What did they say?" I ask. She then closes her lips and stares out the window, her eyes are very empty. She is an empty shell of a human being. "Brooke?" I ask,

"When did they tell you?" I ask.

"A while ago" She says. She's not going to give me answers it doesn't seem like and I need answers, I'm going to have to be her full time care giver god damnit. I need to know what the fuck is wrong with her. Thankfully the neurologist is still outside in the hall.

"What is Lou Gehrig's Disease?" I ask him instantly. I really don't feel much like being polite. I really don't care that he is in the middle of a conversation with one of the RN's. I am usually better with social skills, but right now is not one of those moments.

"Excuse me young man" The RN says, "That was very rude" I really don't feel like apologizing.

"You really expect me to be polite right now? What in the fuck is Lou Gehrig's disease?" I apologize instantly.

"Hang in there son" The neurologist says. "I'm busy talking" I nervously begin biting my fingernails. What have I gotten myself into with this marriage? My leg jolts on complete accident and I end up kicking a wall.

"Hey, don't do that son" The RN says, "The walls are very thin"

"I'm sorry" I say folding my arms across my chest, "I really didn't mean to do that"

"Fine" He says, "Well you did and now I'm telling you to please not do it again" The RN then just continues chatting nonstop with the neurologist. I can not make a word out of what they are saying, but I know for a fact that they are talking about my wife. I tune them out completely even though that is the absolute last thing in the world I want to do. In what seems like hours the RN get's up and leaves in order to start his next shift.

"All right son" The neurologist says. "Talk to me"

"What's wrong with my wife?" I ask, "Like what happened to her?"

"I'm afraid she just has a serious case of bad luck"

"Like I've never even heard of Lou Gehrig's Disease" I cry pressing my hands gently on my hips. "What even is it?" I am so anxious to get the answer that it's not even funny. "What your wife is suffering from is a degenerative brain disease," There is something very unsettling about the word degenerative, it is so often used as a slur against people who are stupid. "So she's like stupid?" I ask suddenly realizing that I have been using my lizard brain. "Oh God" I say, "That's not what I meant at all, that was a terrible question"

"No worries" He says, "Her condition is one that is affecting the motor neuron's in her brain as well as the spinal cord" Now it all makes perfect sense. She wasn't trying to sabotage the wedding at all. I swear I will never assume things like that ever again. "How did this happen to her?" I ask, "And more importantly why?" For as long as I've known Brooke, she's been about as healthy as you can get, the closest thing I've seen to her being sick was when she was hungover or roofied. "She's never been sick a day in her life" I say, which I'm not sure is true or not, I'm sure she's gotten plenty of head colds like everyone else in the world she's not some magical being or something.

"That's the thing about ALS" He says, "It can happen to anyone at any time" I panic. Maybe this is all just karma, maybe she was somehow getting punished for her awesome health. I push that thought far away from my mind, it's stupid.

"But she's going to be okay right doc?" I ask. "I'm going to have to be realistic with you here son, I don't mean to scare you or anything, I'm just trying to prepare you. She's going to get progressively worse" "Like when?" I ask, "In a matter of days, weeks years?" "It is different in every patient" He says. "But is guaranteed that it's going to happen"

"Please tell me theirs a cure! Please? Please?" I beg. I feel like a stupid idiot practically on my knees begging. He stares off into the distance. I know this can't be good. "Oh my god, there is no cure is there?" I cry. "So what am I just supposed to wait until it get's the point where she turns into a complete vegetable. He clears his throat "That's actually one of the most interesting things about Lou Gerhig's disease" He says.

"What is?" I cry. "It affects the parts of the brain that control voluntary movement, and it pretty much shuts down the entire body, but one part of her brain she will not be losing is her thinking brain, she'll continue to be very smart and with it" There's something about that, that makes the whole thing seem even sadder. It makes me feel terrible that she is going to have to watch her entire body shut down and be fully conscious and aware then entire time. "So there's really no cure?" I ask,

"There are millions of drugs that will be used to slow down the process, but I'm afraid no one has come up with a cure yet. The good news is, if her disease is under control, she could still very well live a very fulfilling life. There have been many successful people with the disease. Are you familiar with Stephan Hawking?" I have heard of him briefly, but it had never crossed my mind that he had the same disease, my wife was going to have. "Yeah" I say, "Isn't he like one of the smartest men alive" "Proves my point very nicely" "How much about her disease, does she know?" I ask, "Not very much yet" He tells me, "I think maybe it's best for me to just let it sink in that she has a terrible disease" "You got to break it to her now" I tell her, "I'm sure she's just as curious as we all are" I say this even though I am really not so sure my self whether it has sunk in for her. "So um, is she going to get to go home? You got her diagnosed why is she in the ICU?" "I hate to say this" The doctor says, "But she's really not doing well? She's in terrible shape, her heart rate's really low, she can't even breathe without help. I'm afraid we're going to have to keep her over night" He says. That's pretty much the story of my life these days, Brooke has some medical emergency and has to stay over night in the hospital. Oh my god! I suddenly think, that's going to be the story of my life forever. What have I gotten myself into with this marriage? I wonder to myself for maybe the fifty billionth time.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Brooke

Vychtouriyah puts her hand on my shoulder. "A helicopter's going to come pick you up" She tells me, "Hang in there" I choke on my own saliva.

"Wait what?" I ask. "Why a helicopter? Why not an ambulance?"

"I don't know" Vychtouriya says, "Maybe because it's a really big emergency" I break into fresh tears because the idea of riding in a helicopter sounds unreasonably excruciating. Vychtouriyah tries to comfort me by stroking my back, I jolt away really fast. I do not want her comforting me, or even touching me.

I instantly feel kind of bad because she is honest to god a perfectly decent human being. I really want to hate her because instinctively I know I'm supposed to, but she's being so nice to me that I can't. She hands me a couple of tissues. "Thanks" I say.

"One for your eyes and one for your leg" She says, she begins wiping the blood off, it continues pouring out of my leg and it's too be expected, I did just slash it with a very sharp shard of glass, and I realize at once what a stupid idea that was. I am starting to become dizzy, I mean even dizzier then I am already feeling from the blood loss, and let's just say the feelings in my legs have not returned. I let out another blood curdling scream. I'm surprised that no one else heard me scream or that no one else is using the bathroom for that matter. No, I am stuck in there with only Vychtouriyah. The same Vychtouriyah who I pictured as being a jealous hater, but maybe I'm the one who's the jealous hater of her, and who knows? Maybe she's just trying to be polite, maybe when it's all over she's going to go gossip about me to all her new friends that used to be my friends.

"Shh shh shh" she says, she then wraps her arm around my shoulder and I let her, I fucking let her. "It's okay" She coaxes.

"No!" I shriek. "I can't, I can't, I can't" I am suddenly fixated on those two words, "I can't" Vychtouriyah gets up and gathers a bunch of wet paper towels from the dispenser as well as a couple of dry ones. She very slowly wipes up the excess blood on my leg with one of the wet towels.

"Wow girl" She says. "I cannot believe you did that, not that I've never seen a model slit before, they can be such messes of human beings, but they mostly slit their wrists, not their entire leg, good god girl." Didn't I tell her what was going on, I'm pretty sure I did, doesn't she have ears "I just want to feel something in my legs" I repeat, not understanding why that is such a difficult concept for her to understand. Right away the door swings open.

"What is going on Brooke and Vychtouriyah?" Candy asks, a couple of other girls who stayed late are very closely behind. Unfortunately they just so happen to be the two girls who had called me a fucking klutz. Candy is right away spotting the broken mirror, she then see's the bloody shard of glass sitting next to me on the ground. God damnit I am caught. "My god Brooke what did you do?" I am too busy crying to answer her. The blood is oozing out of my numb leg.

"Oh my god Brooke" She says, I can tell by the sound of her voice, that she feels very guilty, and why shouldn't she? "This isn't what it looks like" I sob. "I can't feel my legs, I was trying to feel something" The two other girls seem very uncomfortable, one of them is in tears.

"All right girls" She says, to Vychtouryiah and the other two, "Go ahead and clear out, you are free to go" "I called a helicopter for her already" Vychtouriyah says, "I'm coming with her" I right away think I know what she wants" She knows Ted is going to be there, she wants to get back with him. I really should have told her that I was married and I am a stupid idiot for not. "You will do no such thing" I snap bitterly, "You are not coming with me" I wipe my tears. "I mean, I'm sorry fine you can come" "Brooke sweetie" Candy asks placing her soft hand on my shoulder. "Can you get up?" I shake my head. "I can't feel my legs" I say again, I can't believe I have to spell it out for her again.

"I think she's seriously paralyzed" Vychtouriyah cries. "Well first off, let's get this wound fixed." She holds a blue towel under the faucet. "Vychtouriyah clear out" She says. She then tightly wraps up my wounded leg. "It's not what it looks like" I say again.

"I know sweetie" She says. "Do you feel anything now?" She asks. I shake my head and let tears spill down my cheeks. My leg should feel very wet right now, it should at least feel cold or hot depending on the water temperature she used, but I can't even feel that,

"C'mon" She says. She then scoops me up in her arms and carries me like a new born. I swear she is really strong. Vychtouriyah and the two other girls is waiting out in the hall for us. "The helicopter is here" She announces.

"How strong are you?" Candy asks Vychtouriyah. Vychtouriyah looks confused but Candy doesn't give her any time to recover. "Here" She says handing me over to Vychtouriyah, "You take her"

"Brooke, Vychtouriyah, Wait" says one of the girls, I think she is either black, Asian or Costa Rican it's really hard to tell.

"I'm sorry I called you a klutz okay?" She says, she seems really upset. "I, I didn't know it was so serious" "Hey don't worry about it" I say. I can see why she was mad. It is making me very dizzy having Vychtouriyah carry me outside, if this is what's making me dizzy then I don't know how I'm going to handle the helicopter ride. I begin sobbing.

"It's okay" Vyctouriyah says. Who does she think she is telling me it is okay? It is not okay. The helicopter stands outside the building. A male and female paramedic are standing outside. "I got her" Vychtouriyah says. "Let's get her on a stretcher." The female paramedic says. I am shaking really hard, so hard that it takes all four of the paramedics to hold me down. "Wait" Vychtouriyah calls out. "I'm coming too"

"Fine" The female paramedic says. She turns to me, "It's going to be really loud in the helicopter, so I'm just going to get some information from you now. What's your name sweetie?" She asks. "Brooke Sanders" I say, still shaking uncontrollably, I am unable to talk "How old are you Brooke Sanders?" She asks me, I don't really see why any of this matters but I suppose, maybe it's just a routine part of her everyday career.

"I'm 25" I say still shuddering. "Brooke Sanders" She says, "Will you hold still while I take your vitals?" "I don't know if I can" I say, "Well just try your best then" She says, "Are you cold sweetie? Would you like a blanket" I nod "Here you are" she says, "Just try to relax" she places a stethoscope to my chest. I shudder. "Cold?" she asks. "Just a little" I say. which is a huge lie it is freezing "What you getting?" The female paramedic asks.

"Bradycardia which means" "Slow heart beat" I'm able to get out. It's becoming harder and less comfortable to breathe by the second. "Very slow, you are one smart cookie" she tells me, "You graduate from medical school?" "Not exactly" I say still breathlessly as ever, "Well that's pretty good, I'd like you to roll over on your side" I do as he was told, she presses the stethoscope to my back, I shudder again.

"Sorry to startle you. You okay?" "Yeah, I'm just cold" I lie. "Could you take a deep breath?" I attempt to breathe, my chest feels tighter by the second. Tears of frustration run down my cheeks. "You okay?" She asks again. "I can't "I moan. I huff and puff, "You can't breathe?" She asks. I shake my head. "Do you think you can try again?" She asks, I shake my head, as if breathing is the most excruciating thing in the world. "That's okay sweetie" She says, "Let me take your temperature, could you open your mouth for me?" I reluctantly open my mouth and let her place the thermometer under my tongue.

"Close your lips please" She instructs. I do what I am told. She pats me on the cheek. "This will take a while" She says, "Why don't you count backwards from 20" I do as I am told. "All done" She says removing the thermometer from my mouth. She shakes it and frowns as she looks at it.

"Do I have a fever?" I ask breathlessly, "No sweetie" She says, "No fever, but you're temperature is actually a little bit bellow average." "What does that mean?" I ask, "Like what's wrong with me?" She doesn't exactly answer.

"Your friend told me you lost some feeling in your legs" She then takes out a little hammer.

"This is a reflex hammer" She tells me, She taps me lightly on the knee. "Did you feel that sweetie?" She asks. She needs to stop calling me sweetie, it's really unsettling. I shake my head, I didn't feel a thing. "I'll try again" She says, she gives me another tap, this time a little harder, still nothing. "Nothing" I say. She continuously scribbles down notes. She then hands it to the male paramedic "Hey doc" the second male paramedic says into his radio. "We got a caucasion white 25 year old female, she's suffering from low pulse rate, bradycardia, difficulty breathing, low body temperature and loss of sensation in her legs" He is silent for a while.

"U'huh" he says. "Okay" he is silent again, "Okay I'll let them know" He then turns off his radio and steps out of the helicopter "That was the head of the ER" He says, "He says he'd like to transfer you to a neurologist" My mouth suddenly goes all dry.

"A, a what?" I ask, "A doctor that specializes in disorders of the nervous system" He answers. "No!" I sob. "Please no!" "Hey no time left" another female paramedic says, "We got to get her to the hospital ASAP!" The four paramedics start carrying me onto the stretcher. Vychtouriyah sits in the back seat with her arms across her chest.

"Is she okay?" She asks the paramedics. "Afraid not" One of the males says. He turns to the rest of the crew, "All right looks like everybody's here let's go" I feel a twist in my heart, I can not fathom the idea of being in a helicopter. I don't want to fathom it. I already feel exceedingly dizzy while they are lifting my stretcher "I let out a loud singular sob. "It's going to be all right" They assure me. Once they get me in the helicopter, I am already bothered by the loud noise and shaking of the ground. I feel a splitting migraine, I let out another single sob, but it goes unnoticed. "Everyone in?" The paramedic at the front wheel asks.

"All in" The paramedic says. I am shaking so hard my teeth are shattering, I'm afraid if I keep the chattering up much longer my teeth will fall out. "Would you like another blanket?" He asks me. I nod. The sounds of the helicopter are getting more and more excruciating by the second. "All right time for take off" The pilot announces. Everything is literally spinning out of control, it feels like going on an amusement park ride after being really drunk and stoned. That was something I did quite a lot in college and it was always really fun back in the day, maybe it also had something to do with the whole knowing why I was so out of control. But this time, who knows why I am feeling so out of it, apparently it is a brain thing apparently I am being sent to a neurologist, just that thought alone causes the room to spin even harder. It is just like the time I went on the octopus (Spider?) ride with Whitney and Brittany after taking a bunch of pot, alcohol and some other shit, maybe a little robotussin. Hey we were idiots back then, but that was Freshman Year of college, I'm not sure how, but somehow I ended up being the only one who threw up.

"B'Bucket" I stammer. "Got one right here" Vychtouriyah says. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and I can't figure out why other then the obvious fact that it is disturbing. I let a male paramedic place me to upright position while Vychtouriyah holds the bucket up to my mouth. As sick as I feel, I am unable to throw up, I can't get a single thing out. It's one of the worst things ever. "I can't" I cry. It's weird, I had no trouble throwing up earlier today.

"False alarm?" The paramedic yells to me. "Yeah" I say, I really feel like gagging, so it is shocking that I haven't thrown up. "That's good" The tiny room is spinning so hard that it looks like there are multiples of the one paramedic. I try closing my eyes. Shit that makes it even worse. I open my eyes again and grasp on to the bucket. I know for a fact that I am going to throw up this time, but I don't, not really any way, unless you count a tiny thread of saliva. My stomach throbs. I think maybe I feel even worse then I had felt on the airplane. "We're landing" "No!" I cry. "No, No, No!" "It's okay" One of the paramedic's says, "Deep breaths" I find myself completely unable to breathe, like extreme shortness of breathe times 50 billion.

"Breathe sweetie" The female paramedic says, "You gotta breathe" "I can't" I sob. "We're almost there" She keeps re assuring me. I think somewhere during the moment we landed I must have passed out. The next thing I know, I am back in the hospital, the tube placed in my nose is making me really feel like gagging, like the nausea needed to have gotten any worse.

"Hello Brooke Sanders" A tall brunette man dressed up in a suit says to me. "My name is Dr. Taylor, Timothy Taylor, I'm the neurologist, you can call me Tim if you'd like" I gulp. Such a frightening word neurologist. "I got some of your general information" He tells me. "Are you up for some exams?" He asks. There's something about that word that just scares the shit out of me, I've always had severe test anxiety, whether it was a calculus exam, the SAT's the ACT's, standardized testing, a blood test, or an IQ test. Tests are frightening. "What kind of exams?" I manage to choke out, my throat is feeling very dry.

"Will this involve needles?" I ask, not that I have any problem's with needles or anything.

"No" He says, "No needles" And speaking of needles, suddenly the feeling of hot needles in my legs returns with a vengence. "Oh god" I cry. "Needles" "Nope" He says, "No needles, this is more of a hands on kind of exam" "No, no, no" I say, "Needles, my legs" I then burst into sobs. "Your legs feeling tingly?" He asks me. I nod. A singular tear rolls its way down my left cheek. "I hate to tell you this kid" He says,

"But that's normal" "What?" I ask. "Feeling tingly after numbness" He says, "It happens, just means it's woken up" "It's not the normal tingly" I explain. "It's way more intense." "You mean like pins and needles?" Now that I think about it yes, exactly like pins and needles. "That can be a very common symptom of neurological damage."

"Oh god" I say putting my hand over my mouth. "Brooke?" He says, "Would you mind stepping up from this table for me?" "Why?" I ask. "I have had a number of patients who complain about pins and needles, and for a lot of them it get's worse when they stand up"

"Can you get up from there?" He asks. I dangle my legs. "You all right? You need help?" He asks. "Thanks" I say, I let him stretch out his hand and pull me down from the table. As soon as I stand upright, a shock like no other rushes through my body. It is not just my legs that feels the shock, it is my entire body, it feels like a hot or maybe cold electrical knife is being stabbed through my body.

"Oh my god" I cry, "Oh god" "You all right?" He asks again. I shake my head. He jots down a couple of notes on yellow paper. "I, I need to sit down" I cry. He pulls up a chair for me. "Have a seat then he says" I slowly sit my self down and an even bigger shock rushes through my body like I have been struck by lightning, I imagine it would feel something like that, "Oh shit!" I cry.

"Oh shit" My whole body feels like it has been zapped and burnt. It nauseates me, but once again I am unable to vomit.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I'll be okay" I lie. He pulls up a chair and sits across from me.

"So, ready for the exam?" He asks. I think I know what he probably wants me to do, "I'm probably supposed to count backwards from 100, walk across a line of tape like it is a tightrope, stick my arms out in front of me, name the president of the united states, and name all the state capitals is that right" He chuckles.

"You got a smart head on your shoulders girl" He says. "That is a general neurological exam, but this one's going to be a little different. I'd like to test your motor neurons. This is a procedure I have many of my patients do I'm going to do a full examination of your motor skills from head to toe, well actually in this case from toes to head." I gulp.

"You ready Brooke?" He asks me.

"Ready as I'll ever be" I say. "That's good enough" He says.

"Let's have you remove those hospital stockings" He says, I have no idea why I even have to wear those things, they're so unnecessary and not to mention, so uncomfortable, maybe they are partly responsible for all the pins and needle sensations but I somehow doubt it. He lifts up my right foot and pulls my leg in an upward position. The pins and needles sensation increases another 50 billion level. Kind of reminds me of that shocking feeling you get when you are freezing cold and jump into hot water. That kind of shock only worse.

"Oh god!" I shriek. "Sorry hon" He apologizes. A single tear runs down my right cheek

"I guess" I say, here goes nothing.

"This is going to tickle a bit" He says, which I already could have guessed. It tickles all right. I suddenly let out a random spout of laughter. "I'm sorry" He says,

"I warned you" I suddenly am overcome by gut wrenching laughter. I have never laughed so hard about being tickled in my life, and it wasn't even in my most ticklish under the arm pit spot. I start laughing so hard my chest feels tight, yet I can not stop, I can't help it. I honestly can't help it. I am suddenly panting for breath, but the uncontrollable laughter won't die down.

"Hey" Tim says jostling me. "I'm not even tickling you anymore, why you still laughing?" Maybe he thinks I'm doing this on purpose in order to get his goat but the truth is I honestly can't help it.

"I can't help it" I manage to get out.

"You can't can you?" He asks. I shake my head. By the way I am laughing one would very possibly assume that I am getting tickled to death, but I am not. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Tim looks very concerned. He looks from me to his notepad then jots down some notes. After what seems like a really long time I am finally able to stop laughing, it is after all not a serious matter, if the neurologist is concerned then it must be something really bad. "All right no more tickling then" He says.

"Let's try a different tactic. He grabs what I recognize as the percussion hammer, the one I had just seen before I was helicoptered to the hospital. "All right" He says, "I'm going to lightly tap your toes with this percussion hammer, you with me?"

"Sure" I say. I don't feel like rocking to boat at all, so I don't say a single word about how he seemed worried about my fit of hysterical laughter. Maybe that really was something to be worried about, but I am too scared to find out.

"All right serious business now" He says, he gently taps my big foot, it doesn't seem to want to move, my foot feels numb and heavy just like my legs earlier today, I don't know where that numbness had come from, after all I had clearly felt something earlier when I had that chronic laughing spell. "You can't wiggle it?" He asks. I shake my head, it won't move at all, it just stays limp.

"So you couldn't move it forward" He says, "Why don't you try moving it up and down, can you do that for me?"

"I'll try." I say, "Atta girl" He says giving me a generous pat on the shoulder. I start moving my toe in a downward position and it ends up curling under, it is too weak for me to set it straight. Tim jots down more and more notes. I make another attempt to move my toe up and down, but it doesn't seem to want to stay up, every time I try it goes back to curling up again.

"All right moving on" Tim says, "I'm going to check your feet." I am so out of it that I have totally spaced most everything out, but now, now he's going to test my swallowing abilities, which means he's going to push on different parts of my throat and make me swallow on cue. Can anyone swallow on cue? Seriously. Gag! He places his index finger on the front middle part of my neck.

"Swallow" He says. I try to swallow but it is especially hard with the doctor pressing on my throat. "Very delayed swallowing reflex"He observes.

"That doesn't sound good" I cry. "Let's see what we get for the other parts of your neck" He then places his index finger very hard against the very upper part of my neck. It really feels sensitive there, so sensitive I jump. "Sorry to startle you" Tim says. "Ready, set, swallow" He says, right away I am unable to swallow right away, and I somehow don't think it has much to do with motor neurons unless of course it does.

"Again that was very delayed"

"Oh no" I say. I can not think of anything else to say.

"not to worry though" He says, "it's not bad enough to cause alarm, what does cause alarm however, is the difficulty you had with the movement in your feet and ankle area" "I hate to say this but you failed every part of the that test" "I don't think this is good Brooke Sanders" He says,

"You may have ALS, but we need to jump through another hoop before we can finally confirm the diagnosis. "What kind of hoop?" I ask, I know I am trembling like crazy once again. "In order to confirm ALS, I'm going to need to do an EMG of the activity of motor neuron's in your brain." I don't know what ALS is nor do I know what an EMG is but I am terrified to ask. "I'm going to real quick order the test" He says, he picks up his pager, "My nurse will be in here momentarily." he let's me know, I am aching to ask the question,

"What is ALS," but I am very afraid. I don't remember ever feeling so afraid in my life. It is too late, the words suddenly slip off my tongue.

"Well Brooke I'm glad you asked" Dr. Tim says. "ALS or Lou Gehrig's Disease, is a condition that effects the motor neurons in the brain and spinal cord"

"Am I?" I ask, my tongue feels really dry, "Am I going to be okay?" I ask. "I'm going to have to be realistic with you" He tells me. "No" He says. "It's what we like to refer to as a progressive degenerative disease" All those new medical terms sound frightening to me. I swallow hard. "Which means what?" I ask. "Degenerative means a disease that causes the brain or in the case of an ALS patient the neurons in the brain to start dying, and progressive means it will happen very gradually. As I've said before, you have a lot of weakness in your feet area, but the weakness will gradually make it's way up to your body." So that must have been why he preformed the test from toe to head, maybe he suspected ALS all along. "There's something else that concerned me" He says.

"What's that?" I ask even though I really don't want to know. "It's a very rare symptom of Lou Gehrig's Disease, but often times patients are unable to control things like laughter. They also may have a strong sensitivity to things like being tickled." Tears fill my eyes. I knew he was concerned about that, but I had no idea why, but apparently it IS a symptom to something. A symptom to the frightening disease I have. That same feeling of shock seeps through my body once again, this time more like 10 electrical knives are stabbing me through the back.

"Hopefully, you will test negative for this." Just there is a knock on the door and the young nurse lets herself in. "I got the test you ordered" She announces. She pulls up a chair and scoots up next to me. "Have you done this before?" She asks. I shake my head.

"All right Brooke" She says, "Here's what we're going to do." She takes out a needle. A very long needle I must add. "This is just like a blood test" She tells me, "Same kind of procedure anyway, only this is one where we test the nerve cells through your muscle, you can think of it as a blood test that goes much deeper into the body, and their's more needles, I see that she has other needles too. I gulp." The next thing I know I am being hooked up to needles which are hooked up to a machine of some sort. The machine I just hooked you up to is called an

"oscilloscope, it is used to record the nerve activity that's going on." I gulp again.

"You okay?" The nurse asks me.

"Too many needles" I say. "This won't take long" She says, "I promise" And she is right, It doesn't take long at all. "You're all ready to go Brooke" She says, "You did very well, we'll have your tests in about an hour, why don't you wait outside in the waiting room" Vychtouriyah is scrunched up on a chair, her face is wet with tears.

"Their's something you need to know" She cries. "The reason I came with you on the helicopter is because" She stops mid sentence.

"Because what Vychtouriyah?" I ask. "Because I feel responsible?" "What why?" I ask. "I mean what does any of this have anything to do with you?" Vyctouriyah blows her nose loudly into the tissue. "When Ted talked about you, I felt so jealous of you that I really started to hate you, to despise you as a matter a fact, and sometime's I would fantasize about you having a deadly disease, it made me feel better, but honestly I didn't want it to come true. And now it did, and it's all because I wished for it, I didn't mean any harm, I was just jealous because" Her lip and chin both start to quiver. "Because I always wanted what you had with Ted, but I never came close. You're obviously his favorite that's why he got married to you" I want to say something comforting like that it wasn't her fault and that, that really wasn't the way things worked in real life, but instead the exact opposite is what pops out of my mouth. "Fuck you Vychtouriyah" I say. Vychtouriyah looks flabbergasted. "Oh shit, I'm sorry" I say. "It's really not your fault, and maybe you have nothing to feel sorry about, maybe their's nothing wrong with me" Although I say this, I do not believe it at all. For some odd reason, I keep saying the exact opposite of what I planned on saying, I just want to kick myself. Just then the nurse pokes her head through the door. "Brooke Sanders?" She says. "I just got your test results" I get up and Vychtouriyah follows me, I guess she is just as curious as me about my diagnosis./span/p

"What you got?" I ask. "Positive" She says. I suddenly feel that shock rush through my body once again, but that isn't the only terrible feeling, my head feels all static like static on the TV screen, everyone's voices become lost in the static. Maybe I haven't heard her right, maybe she really said negative. "Wh'what?" I ask. "Positive" She announces her voice sounds all muffled and has a kind of puppet/robotic feel to it. I really wish I was sitting down, black splotches are meeting the front of my eyes. "Are you okay?" Vychtouriyah asks me, putting her hand on my shoulder, her voice too sounds flat and robotic and muffled due to the horrible static. Before I know it I can feel myself start to fall backwards and I am unable to stop the fall. I land down very hard on my head and I am out 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 4: Ted

I have to say, this has got to be the worst Christmas eve in my life and believe me I've been through a long line of shitty Christmas eves which I'd rather not get into at the moment. How terrible for me to find out that my wife has a (How did the doctor put it?) degenerative brain disease on Christmas eve. Worst Christmas present ever for both of us. The doctors have declared it bed time for all the patients, which means I will not be seeing Brooke until she get's released at 11. Brooke's doctor has asked me to sit in the waiting room, and here

I am tuned into AMC's all day marathon of it's a Wonderful Life. What a fucking lie, it is not a wonderful life it's a terrible life. I've never actually seen the movie, but I know the basic gist of it. Some guy meets an angel who shows him what life would be like if he was never born. I swear that classic has been done to death. My mind wanders off and I begin to wonder what would happen if I was in George Bailey's place. Maybe if I never existed then Brooke wouldn't have Lou Gehrig's Disease. I mentally scratch out that thought. The reason why she has Lou Gehrig's Disease has nothing to do with me or whether or not I exist. The only thing stopping her from getting the disease would be a little thing called the Butterfly effect, which was featured in a different movie starring Ashton Kutcher. But there was no butterfly effect in the movie

"It's A Wonderful Life" In that movie it all had to do with the absence of one person and even more sadly, there is no butterfly effect in real life, well there is of course it's been discovered by many great scientists, but time travel isn't possible in this day and age. Even if it were possible, there is most likely no way going back in time could cure her disease. Apparently it was just meant to happen no matter what. Chills run down my spine. I have totally spaced out the movie, but it looks like it is at the end. George Bailey has just gotten his second chance of life it looks like and is running around the neighborhood saying hello to everyone and everything. "Hello House! Hello Snow!" I look down at the time,

"It is only 8:00" How am I going to be able to sleep? The movie plays over and over the way it always does on Christmas, and with each play, I pay no attention. I guess I did end up falling into a dreamless sleep, because the next thing I know someone is jostling me. One of Brooke's nurses presumably

"Your wife is ready to go home" she tells me.

"Oh yeah thanks" I say, I quickly realize that my life will never be the same. Christmas day is depressing for a lot of people for a lot of reasons, but this Christmas is already on it's way to being the most depressing ever. The nurse taps me on the shoulder.

"You remember where her room is right?" She asks me. I shake my head. I do in fact remember what number her room is, but it is in such an obscure location.

"All right follow me" She says. I slowly open Brooke's door. She is all dressed and looks beautiful, she is ready to go, but it appears that she hasn't moved a single centimeter since the last time I saw her. She is rocking back and fourth and I know right away that her state of shock has warn off and now she is traumatized. "Brooke hey" I say waving my hand in her face. Her eyes look very empty.

"Hey C'mon" I say, "We're supposed to be at Christmas dinner at 1:00." Brooke continues to not say anything. "She's in shock still" The nurse tells me. "It may last for a couple days" "You mean emotional shock or physical shock?" I ask, because maybe if she is in physical shock it would be best not to take her home. "Just emotional shock" The nurse said,

"It happens to a lot of patients, but when she get's over it you're going to have to be prepared for her to start showing the five stages of grief" I vaguely remember learning about the five stages of death from the death unit of high school health and human development. Denial, Anger, Depression, Bargaining, Acceptance, or maybe it wasn't in that order, maybe anger came after depression. All I know is there is going to be a lot of grieving in the Sanders household. I my self am feeling pretty numb about all this as well, maybe I too am in shock. "Brooke, hey babe" I say, "Can you hear me sweetie?" She still doesn't respond. I clap my hands in front of her face. She doesn't even blink. "Brooke sweetie" The nurse says, "We gotta sign you out" Brooke stares at her bare feet as the nurse and I slowly help her into her slip on shoes. Her feet are very limp, dead almost "C'mon sweetie" the nurse coaxes her. "Should we get a wheelchair?" The nurse asks. The idea of her riding in a wheelchair freaks me out, because I know that that is going to become the reality. "N'no" I say hastily. "I got her" I scoop her up in my arms. She is as light as a feather, which doesn't surprise me at all. Her eyes are wide and disturbed. Once we get to the parking lot, she asks (no demands) that I put her down.

Wendy and Steve Shy live a couple suburbs outside of Las Angeles. I think the last time I was over there was the time I took Brooke to prom. It was the house Brooke grew up in, and as far as I know they still live there, at least they hadn't said otherwise on our invite. Brooke and I are in complete silence and it makes a whole lot of sense. What is there to say to someone who just got diagnosed with a life threatening illness? I remember from the death and dying unit that there are things you should absolutely never say and one of those things is,

"I know how you feel" it is something a lot of people slip up and say just for the lack of other things to say. I am not going to say that to Brooke because I don't know how she feels. I have absolutely no idea what she's going through, I can kind of get a sense of how she might feel, she is in shock. Making small talk is absolutely out of the question. How do you make small talk with someone who is potentially dying? "Do you want some music?" I ask, I suppose that counts as small talk but I let it go.

"Sure" She says staring blankly out the window. I clear my throat as if to say something else, but my throat closes up on me. An "I'm sorry you're sick" Would have been an appropriate thing to say but I'm almost scared to talk about it. All right fine, I'm really scared to talk about it, there's no almost about it. "Do you want the oldies station?" I ask, I know that is one of Brooke's all time favorites. my voice comes out sounding very dry. Brooke just stares down at the ground and shrugs. I flip through the stations until I find the oldies station. Elvis Presley's version of Deck the Halls blares from the car radio, but tis the season NOT to be jolly. Tis the season to be depressed and miserable. The whole town screams Christmas at the top of it's lungs, which I suppose makes sense seeing that it is Christmas day. The neighborhood is filled with carolers going door to door and singing merrily. I didn't know people actually still did stuff like that in this day and age. I seriously didn't know that caroling was still a thing. We finally pull up into Wendy and Steve's driveway. The entire yard is covered with christmas decors all 8 of Santa's reindeer are replicated in some kind of bronze wire and are standing in the front yard, covered in bright christmas lights. It is enough to make anyone nauseated. That is not even the half of it. Their are huge colorful lights on the facade of the house. The smell of Christmas dinner is amazing, some kind of roast, twice baked potatoes, fresh out of the oven pumpkin, and cherry pie as well as a nice evergreen scented fabreeze. It would amazing if I was actually happy, but I am not so instead it makes me feel nauseated, overwhelmed and a bit dizzy. I help Brooke out of the car and act as a crutch for her. Steve meets us out at the door way.

"Brooke, Ted" He says in his reserved as ever tone. "So nice of you to come" He doesn't sound super excited about the Holiday season, but then again, he's never been one to get excited. He is the most level headed guy I know. Instead of giving us a hug, we are met with a hand shake. He turns to Brooke. "You okay Brookie Dough?" He asks, tagging on the super annoying nick name, "You're limping" "I'm not" She says. "I'm fine." "What happened to her?" He asks me. He gives me his patented sleazy smile. "You do something to her?" He rolls his eyes. Apparently that is his idea of humor. "Just playing around with you son" He says giving me a hard punch in the back. "You're a good man, you wouldn't hurt my daughter would you?" "No sir" I say. "You better not" He says. His voice sounds very threatening, I have no idea if he's joking or not anymore, he's not the joking type obviously and that was a tasteless thing to say. How could he even suggest I hurt her? How could he even joke about it? And if he's not joking about it he's obviously being serious.

"Come on in you two" He says holding out the door for us. "Wendy's making leg of lamb, which is Brookie Dough's all time favorite Christmas dinner, isn't that right Brookie Dough?" Brooke just stares at the ground and shrugs again.

"Why so quiet?" He asks. She doesn't say a word. "C'mon in" He says. Apparently Wendy has gone all out with decorating, their is a gigantic tree covered with all kinds of decorations, including very bright lights it looks like they got it specially installed. There is a gigantic somewhat frightening Christmas Wreath hanging above the fireplace, something about it seems unsettling. There is a yule log in the fire. As we follow Steve into the kitchen, I notice that Wendy is very busy. "Wendy" Steve says,

"Brooke and Ted are here" Wendy turns around. She gives both of us a huge hug as well as a big smackaroo on the four head. "So nice to see the two of you she says. Brandy and Susan just got in yesterday. I think they're upstairs right now. She leaves the kitchen for a while and calls up the stairs to them. "Brandy, Susan, Brooke and Ted are here" Brandy walks down the stairs very slowly, she has always been a very (Pokey would be the nicest way of saying it) Person, she seems to be in no hurry to see me or Brooke, but I suppose she and Brooke didn't exactly get off on good terms the last time they saw each other. Brandy's hair is wet, most likely she just got out of the shower. She is wearing a boring old Micky Mouse T-Shirt that is way too big for her, and a pair of rugged old jeans, I'd say she would look like she just slipped out of bed, but she obviously washed her hair.

"Seriously Brandy!" Wendy scolds. "That's what you're wearing to Christmas Dinner?" "Yep" Brandy says dully. "For heavens sake Brandy" Wendy snaps, rolling her eyes and sighing at the same time. "You must have something nicer then that, we have company."

"It's only Brookie Monster and Teddy Bear" Brandy says rolling her eyes.

"Look Brandy" Wendy says, "I know you two are probably still angry at each other, but she is still a house guest and it is still Christmas eve, now go upstairs this instant and put on something fancy." "No this is fine" Brandy says folding her arms across her chest. "You're sister and brother in law got all dressed up, look at them don't they look lovely?" Brooke does look exceptionally beautiful in her velvety blue Vera Wang dress, her hair is pulled back in an old fashioned blue ribbon that is tied in a perfect bow. It matches the color of her dress. I usually don't dress in suits or comb my hair back, but I figured it would look nice. "Where is Susan anyway?" Wendy asks. "She's taking a shower" Brandy says curtly.

"Right now?" Wendy hisses. "But we have guests over, could she have picked a worse time to do that?" "Look mom" Brandy says, "We got in late last night, we slept in could you like maybe just chill the fuck out or something?" "I've never heard you talk like this" Wendy says, her voice is full of shock. "It must be that girl you married, I always thought she was a terrible influence on you." Brandy rolls her eyes and sighs at the same time. Tequila follows her down the stairs. I am once again shocked by how tall she is maybe she has gotten a couple feet taller, or maybe I just hadn't seen her in so long, and I just forgot how tall she is. She isn't exactly dressed for Christmas either, she is just wearing her normal punk goth chic, the chains and everything. Wendy folds her arms across her chest. "Hello Susan" She says bitterly. "Fuck you bitch" Tequila greets her. "Nobody calls me Susan" "Well it's your name isn't it?" Wendy asks folding her arms tightly, "I don't believe in calling someone by a name that is not their own." "It's my name you fucking bitch" She says, "I got it legally changed when I turned 21 bitch" "Tequila is a type of alcohol" "Well yeah so is Brandy" Tequila says. Wendy sighs, "Well people actually name their kids Tequila, lot's of girls are named Brandy And Tequila is a very terrible type of alcohol at that. Susan is a perfectly decent name." "I don't do sensible" She says bitterly. "And I'm not going to put on any god damn sensible cloths either" "Look Susan" She says,

"While you're a guest in this house, under my roof, you need to dress appropriately and all this black and chains is not going to suffice, go put on some nice cloths." "Hey" Steve says, "Give her a break" He turns to Tequila.

"Just lose the chains and the jewelry" He tells her. Apparently Steve is the less conservative. "Fine!" Tequila says, she the heads upstairs and gives us all the bird. "Our appetizers should be ready now" Wendy announces. The smell is nauseating. She heads into the kitchen. She comes back shortly carrying what looks like a dinner in itself. Not at all what I expected from appetizers "My famous bacon crusted cornish game hens" She says smiling widely. "And my famous lentil curry" Neither of those seem like they would go together.

"Damnit Wendy" Steve says, "Why do you always have to make so much food, no one's going to be hungry for dinner" "It's Christmas" Wendy says, "It's all about stuffing your face." "That's thanksgiving" Steve said. "I told you to go light on the appetizers. What's wrong with the cheese and crackers I bought in the pantry" "Cheese and crackers? Are you kidding me?" Wendy asks, "That's peasant food" Brandy and Tequila come down the stairs, neither of them have really gotten dressed up, Tequila has just removed all her jewelry and Brandy has added some jewelry.

"Really girls?" Wendy asks. "They look fine Wendy" Steve says. "Really Brandy" She says, "You have such a beautiful face, couldn't you at least put on a little make up? And Tequila couldn't you put on a little less?" "They're fine Wendy" Steve snaps. I feel so far removed from this conversation it's not even funny. I have always felt that way around Brooke's family. Brooke picks at her cornish game hen. "Brooke sweetie" Wendy says,

"You're not eating, are you all right?" "No!" Brooke says stirring her lentil curry around the plate. "You're not?" Wendy asks. "What's wrong?" "I'm sick" Brooke says staring at her plate. "I have Lou Gehrig's Disease" She says, everyone puts there utensils down and falls silent. "Please say something" Brooke says. No one says a thing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 1: Brooke**

I can't stand the awkward silence coming from my family. "Please say something" I beg. It would be nice to hear some kind words from either of my parents. My mom blinks back tears. She has never been one for crying in public "When did you find out?" She asks "Yesterday" I tell her. "On Christmas Eve" My mother doesn't say a word. I let out an uncomfortable sigh. "On top of that I was fired from my job" "You were what?" My mother asks, somehow that has gotten her full attention. "Candy fired you?" "Seriously mom?" I ask, "Did you not hear what I said, I have Lou Gehrig's Disease!"

"I know honey I heard you" My mom says, she always has a way of sweeping huge things like that under the rug, but for some reason the fact that she thinks Candy firing me is a bigger deal, comes as a huge shock. Priorities she really needs to get them straight. "Modeling has been a huge part of your life since middle school" She says, "Do you want me to talk to Candy?"

"No mom" I say, my entire body is shaking. My mom throws her head back. "I mean who does she think she is firing you just because you have a disability?" My own mother is missing the point. Chronically.

"She didn't know" I tell my mom, the bitter taste of anger falls off my tongue with every word. Why is my mother doing this to me? She has always had a way about her with trying to build my confidence, and pushing me to be the absolute best person I could be. I have always been her favorite kid. By far. My mother never pushed Brandy into stuff like that. She never had much expectation of Brandy at all. My mother has said many of times that I was the only thing right in her life, Brandy, her marriage to my father and pretty much every decision she made in her life was a huge mistake. Being the only thing right in her life apparently means I have to be this is just cruel and unusual. How could that possibly be her first response? "She fired me because of my poor balance" I tell her,

"The modeling career is all about balance and all at least that's a huge part of it. If she doesn't think I can do it then I can't" "So you're just going to let this disease take over your life?" Ted interjects. He looks about ready to strangle my mother, I would love to do the same, if I had any strength, but I don't. "It's a really serious disease, she could like die" Ted says his voice full of exasperation. "Don't you dare suggest I don't know that" Wendy says, "I know that all right" "Really mom?" I ask. "We probably shouldn't have come over from Christmas dinner. I'm so sorry the one thing you actually have going for you in your life can't be perfect, I'm sorry you literally have nothing going for you" My mother places her hand against her chest, I know I have said something really cruel about my mother, but now that I got started I can not stop. I have really hurt her feelings just now, and am kind of ashamed to say, I'm glad I have.

"Brooke apologize to your mother" My father says. "And Wendy, you apologize to your daughter, what a horribly insensitive thing to say, she's just gotten diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease" "I know that" Wendy says, "But that shouldn't stop her from modeling. There are lot's of disabled people who make excellent models. Lou Gehrig's Disease never stopped Steven Hawking from becoming the amazing scientist he was, nor did it stop Lou Gehrig from pursuing his life long career as famous baseball player. "He actually had to stop playing because of the disease" Ted says, "At least that's what her doctor told me" "You don't seem the slightest bit surprised" I tell my mother. "You don't seem to care at all" My mother looks like she's just been shot in the face with a paint gun. She however recovers very quickly.

"Eat your cornish game hen" She says, "You love them" "I put my fork down"

"I'm not hungry" I protest.

"Well you better be hungry" My mother says, "Because this isn't even close to the first course, we have Oatmeal soup, then my famous Waldorf Salad, then the rabbit ravioli and rabbit saddle and then finally the main course. My mother does this kind of cooking every single year for Christmas, cooking in courses, and every single time not a single person is hungry for the main course. For the record oatmeal soup is every bit as disgusting as it sounds like it would be, despite the fact that my mother says it seems weird but is actually really wonderful. Not true. Not even a little true. I don't even know why she even cooks in courses. She's not French or Italian or any of those European heritages. She is a very proud Irish woman, I'm sure that is not how they do Christmas dinner in Ireland, or how she celebrated Christmas growing up.

"May I be excused?" I ask pulling my chair away from the table, my mother opens her mouth as if to say something but I do not wait for the response, I very clumsily take off and head upstairs, falling up every single one of them. I make my way to my old bed room, and sit on the edge of my bed covered with a pink down comforter with covered with bright red roses. The way my mother is acting about my disease should have caused a huge crying spell, yet I am feeling as numb as I had when I got the diagnosis.

I stare around my room. My mother really out did herself with the design. It appears to be any little girl's dream bedroom, fancy Victorian queen bed, complete with a head and foot board a frilly mattress and even a canopy. On top of my bed, sit a pair of cuddly white deluxe teddy bears, and a big heart shaped pillow and about 9 other pillows. There are beautiful frilly white drapes, fancy white dressers, and a beautiful black toy chest. There is also a very fancy off white scallop lamp shade, an antique. There is a large oval mirror frilled with a beautiful kind of gaelic decoration. On the bed stand with my lamp shade sits an old antique music box, an even older jewelry box, and a wind up snow globe that had been in my mom's family for generations supposedly. The walls are a kind of a dull shade of pink, similar to my bed spread and are printed with little fairies and cherubs.

On the ceiling hangs a glass chandelier. There is also a beautiful old fashioned wardrobe filled with dolls made of the finest porcelain. The carpet is also pink, I'd say maybe a couple of shades pinker then my walls and bed spread. The cupboards are filled with all kinds of books from the baby sitters club series, to Jane Austen to Charles Dickens, to classics such as Little Women, Black Beauty, and The Secret Garden, to the huge selection of little golden books I had as a kid, to my old deluxe Disney collection. On the walls are fine printed pictures from modeling days, and pictures of me and Ted posing as Prom King and Queen. We looked so happy back then. in my closet is my bright red prom dress safely placed on a wooden hanger, and safely tucked away on the top shelf of my closet is my prom queen tiara, all sparkly and perfect. There is something very saddening about this room. There is a huge lump in my throat and I can not swallow it. I was a kid who got everything she wanted.

My mother would have given me the moon and the sun if she could (And how cliche does that sound?) Her whole life was devoted to me. And now in return, I got Lou Gehrig's Disease. I suddenly get the sickening feeling in the very pit of my stomach, that it is my fault. I have been agnostic for almost all my life, there was a time period when we actually went to church, but not any more, my entire family is agnostic. I do not believe in God so right now, I feel it is my fault, even though I know that there's no way possibly it's my fault. I suddenly hate this room. It belongs to a perfect little girl, my mother's little princess. That's what I've always been to her, her little treasure. But now, I have just proved to my mother that I am not that perfect little girl. I am sick. I know way deep down that it is not my fault that I am sick, but the shame hurts all the same. The room spins around me, making it all the more sickening, and to be fair who wouldn't be completely disgusted by this get up. It's seriously enough to make anyone nauseated, I can't believe I slept in this bed room for 17 years. My room at home is nothing compared to this. There is a knock on the door followed by my sisters voice. "Brooke, may I come in?" "Sure" I say apathetically. Brandy let's herself in and then sits down next to me.

"You okay little sis?" She asks me. I shake my head. Brandy straightens out the sheets a little. "Mom, really does care that your sick." Brandy says, "She really is upset" I fold my arms tightly across my chest.

"No she isn't" I say staring down at my lap. "She's just upset because the one thing in her life that is perfect, is so well not perfect. So crippled". Brandy rubs my back. "I've known Mom three years longer than you have" She says,

"And I know for a fact that she doesn't like to show her true feelings" "I know what she's feeling" I say bitterly. "She's disappointed in me" Brandy falls silent for a really long time. We both fall silent. "If I were the one to get Lou Gehrig's disease, she wouldn't give a flying fuck" Brandy finally says. "She never liked me, and as much as I hate to admit it, she never wanted me in the first place. You were the only one of us kids who wasn't a mistake, you were always part of the plan" "But I guess it wasn't part of the plan for me to get Lou Gehrig's Disease" I say bitterly.

"Well no" Brandy says, "But mom always liked you the best Brookie Monster, as far as I know she couldn't give a damn about me, and don't even get me started on our brother" I suddenly feel like a jolt has gone off inside me.

"Wait a second" I cry. "Brother?" "Well technically he was our half brother, he wasn't mom's mistake he was another woman's mistake, let's just say our dad kind of got around before he settled down with mom. He's quite a bit older then you and I. Dad had another wife before he married mom, and I guess Brock was just a product of that marriage. He was a terrible kid, starting fires stealing, lying, cheating on exams" Brandy says. 'Brock' I think bitterly to myself. The name sounds suspiciously like my name and suddenly I think I realize what my parents were trying to do. They were trying to start over. "Why didn't I know about him?" I ask, this is a very strange Christmas Eve. First I find out I have Lou Gehrig's Disease then I find out I have an estranged brother. "Oh god" Brandy says putting her hands to her face. "I've said too much. Forget I said anything" "I can't just forget" I say. Brandy sighs heavily. "All right the reason why you don't know about our brother is because he was disowned and sent to live at a group home down south when he was 12 years old, which was the year before you were born" So I thought right, it was no coincidence at all that my name is the feminine version of his name. The year after they disowned him was the year I was born after all. They probably really wanted another boy they could name Brock 2.0. So I really was the replacement. It feels really icky. "You all right?" Brandy asks apparently sensing my discomfort.

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" I ask. "Because it most certainly does not. Don't you get it? Brock? Brooke? They're practically the same name" Brandy places her index finger to her chin, "The fact that dad got mom pregnant right after they sent him to boarding school?" Brandy still appears very confused. "Do you think that's just a coincidence?" I feel tears stream down my cheeks and I am shocked because I thought I was so far removed from crying. I let out a loud sob. "I'm his fucking replacement!" I wail. "I guess if I put it that way. Oh man. Don't worry you're nothing like our brother." "That's not the point!" I wail. "The whole point of my existence is to be that horrible excuse for a person's replacement" "Hey wow" Brandy says, "Think of how he must feel" "He probably doesn't even know about me" I snap. "But now" I say wiping my tears, "Now I kind of want to meet the guy" The words sound foreign on my tongue and I have no real idea as to why I might have said them, but I would really love to take it back now. "He's not such a bad guy you know" Brandy says, fingering through one of my thick spiral curls, she pulls it and let's it spring. "No?" I ask. "He had a lot of problems, but one of my first memories of him was when I was three years old and he must have been 12.

I was learning to ride a tricycle for the first time. I fell down on the curve and split my chin right open and skinned both my knees, I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe. And then there was Brock. Brock was pretty much a life savor that day. He picked me up, let me ride in the basket on his bicycle. Then he took me home, washed out my wounds, put band aids on my knees, and even preformed stitches in my chin and comforted me. Brandy's eyes are starting to fill with tears. But unfortunately, he could just never seem to catch a break. Everything he did was wrong, even that day, he got in trouble for taking me out on my tricycle without any adult supervision "Is that why our parents disowned him?" I ask. "Nah" Brandy says, "That was more when he started getting into street drugs, and started stealing and lighting fires and all that. I suppose there was also the time he lit my Barbie Dream House on fire"

"Shit that's terrible" I say. "Yeah!" It is. "What's also terrible is the whole set up with our family. Brock's obviously the least favorite, and you're obviously the favorite and me, I'm just the middle child who everyone ignores." I let out an uncomfortable shallow sigh. "If it makes you feel better, I'm probably not the favorite kid anymore" "Yeah I guess we're all three of us just a bunch of screw ups" Brandy jokes, and this is totally not the time for her to be joking. I did not get Lou Gehrig's Disease on purpose and that is what she is making it sound like. "I'm sorry Brookie Monster" Brandy says, "Mom still loves you the best, that's why she always pushes you into great stuff" "I know she loves me" I say the tears are starting up again. "But she's so fucking disappointed in me, I really feel like I failed just now" "Ah C'mon" Brandy says, we both fall silent again for a while. "I think this seems like a family emergency" Brandy says, "Wouldn't you say?" "Does that mean?" I ask, "Yes" Brandy says, apparently she knows exactly what I am getting at. "hand me the yellow pages?" "You're really going to try calling him?" I ask. "As crazy as it sounds" She says. I clumsily walk over to my book shelf, there are several phone books I had kept along the years. "This isn't going to do" Brandy says, looking at the latest phone book. She grabs on to my hand.

"C'mon Little Sis" She says. "Where are we going?" I ask. She doesn't say anything just smiles a smug smile. "You'll see" She says. "Seriously where are we going?" I ask. "Will you keep it down?" Brandy hisses. "Sorry" I say quietly. She points to a square on the ceiling and pulls down a rope and a staircase appears. "It's all in the attic" She says mysteriously. "We have an attic?" I ask. "Why didn't I know about the attic?" "Mom and Dad have no idea I know about the attic, but one day I caught my dad going up there, and discovered that we have a secret passage. All of Brock's stuff is up there," she says, "Everything old pictures, old birth certificate, you name it, you ready to head up there?" I suddenly feel weak at the knees again. "I' I can't," I moan grasping my left ankle. "Can't walk?" Brandy asks. "Here no problem." She says. She then scoops me up in her arms the same way Ted had done earlier. She runs up the stairs and it is making me dizzy all over again. She is not doing a very good job at "Steering" At one point I hit my head on the banister. I know that eventually this is going to become part of the reality, getting carried around places that do not have accessible ramps and what not.

"Sorry" She says hastily, "You all right?" "Yeah I'm okay" I lie. For some reason the "Ride" up the stairs seems longer than it probably really is. The attic is dark and creepy. It does not much help when Brandy turns on the light. There are spiders, mites, roaches, centipedes and earwigs crawling every which way. I am usually not squeamish in the slightest, but this is disgusting, there is also a disgusting smell of must. I for some reason react to all this in a really squeamish manner. I tightly grab Brandy around the neck with both my hands. "Oh for God's sake Brooke" Brandy says, "You're choking me. Stop being such a baby." She sets me down on an old rocking chair, walks over to a shelf and pulls out a huge box, one that has been gathering dust for a really long time. She blows on it and dust flies everywhere. "Here we are" She says, handing the huge box over to me. I open it and even more dust rushes out. The first thing Brandy pulls out is a huge envelope with the words Brock Matthew Shy written on it. She blows off the excess dust. "You ready?" Brandy asks. This feels really mysterious. "What you got there?" Brandy asks. I blow the dust off a manilla envelope. "Brock's school reports" I say, "Preschool to Senior year of High school, apparently he's never gone to college" Brandy blows off the dust of another thick manilla envelope.

"What you got?" I ask her. "Christmas cards" Brandy says, she flips through the pile. "Looks like he's been sending cards since the year he was kicked out." She lets out a huffy sigh.

"Dear, Mom, Dad and Brandy, I am having a shitty time please get me out of here. It is only the second day of living with these people and already they hate me. Can I please come home for christmas this year? I promise I'll be a really good boy this year, just please get me the fuck out of here" I bite down hard on my lip, I don't know whether I should feel bad for him or not. It would suck to be disowned.

"He was kicked out on Christmas?" I ask, because apparently this is a christmas card. Maybe it is just how my parents do things, maybe they are planning to disown me as well. "The date says december 3rd, 1991," And speaking of Christmas, it seems a little pathetic that Brandy and I are upstairs in the attic opening the remains of our missing brother instead of opening presents.

My Dad's younger sister Aunt Kathy has a reputation in our family as being the best gift giver in the world. It's so true, all of my favorite things I've gotten were from Aunt Kathy. Unfortunately the thing about Aunt Kathy is she lives all the way on the other end of the country so her gifts usually come late. Every year she seems to out do herself. Brandy continues reading the letter out loud. A huge lump forms in my throat, too big for me to swallow. My parents have gotten all the letters yet they chose to keep them all hidden away in the attic to gather dust. A cold chill rushes up my spine as fast as quicksilver. That's what it's going to be like to be disowned.

Of course Brock probably did something way worse then suddenly get Lou Gehrig's Disease, but still disappointment is disappointment, and I know for a fact that they were disappointed in me. I keep telling myself over and over again, that it is not my fault that I am sick, but that brings me no comfort. I still have to suffer the same amount of shame my brother had to.

I flip my fingers through the thick stack of papers, each of them dated in the top left hand corner and signed by a team of professionals at the bottom. As I read through the reports, it feels as if I am looking through an abnormal psych text book of some really disturbed kid's back history. Year 1984, Union Beach Nursery School, the top of the paper reads. Brock hits a classmate over the head with a block after she wouldn't give him her snack. He also verbally abused the new classroom helper and chased one of the instructors with a ladder, when she told him it was nap time. "Wow!" Brandy says, "That's really frightening" I suddenly realize that I have read the report out loud. I'm not sure how It is I didn't know that. "He is a very bright little boy, but he does not apply himself" Brandy rolls her eyes. "Is that ever a cliche" She says, "We get kids like that every year, very smart kids that do not apply themselves and he was only in nursery school, he may have turned himself around, keep reading"

"You think so?" I ask, "Because it sure doesn't sound like he did from then on. It sounds to me like he got worse. He was disowned for god's sake." Brandy falls silent for a long time, "What did the teachers suggest?" She asks. "They said, all he needs is a more structured environment." I see that the next document is from the Montesorri School, the same Montesorri Brandy and I had attended. Apparently that's the school everyone sends there kids in order to become perfect little angels, with perfect little halo's over their heads. I'm sure it didn't work out so well with Brock. I flip through the stack until I end up finding one with the words, Orange Hill Montesorri, sure enough that was where Brandy and I had attended, I'm surprised the school even took us after having Brock. I skim down. "He was kicked out in less then one week" I say. Brandy rolls her eyes.

"What a surprise" She says, "What did he do?" "He purposely pulled the fire alarm. That sounds pretty minor in comparison to what he had done at his previous nursery school. "But that was when he was what 4?" Brandy asked. "You never know" I say , "He's probably a first class criminal now" she is loudly flipping through paper after paper. "Here's one from 2011" She says. I scoot myself closer to Brandy. At the bottom of the letter. There is a picture of a well built muscular man, with blonde hair down to his shoulders, I have always hated long hair on guys, a ripped up t-shirt that reads the devil made me do it and a sinister look in his eyes. He has a beyond creepy grin plastered upon his face. I am nauseated by the picture. I can see there are many hard liquor bottles in the background, and he is standing outside what appears to be nothing more then a cardboard box. I have mixed feelings about this, the guy's obviously homeless,

it does suck to have no where to go on Christmas, as cliche as it sounds, but then on the other hand, he's homeless, and it's probably for a pretty good reason. He has about at least a dozen gold teeth in his mouth, so I guess he has some money on hand, probably stollen. "We really shouldn't be doing this Bran" I say backing away slowly. Brandy glares at me, turning my veins to ice once again. "I think it's sick of mom and dad to keep this from us" She says bitterness falls from her lips. She has gone full ice queen. "You have no idea how hard it was for me" She says, "I had all these memories of him, I thought I was nuts Brooke. But now I know that I'm not. I was not imagining that we had a brother" Now that I think about it, I do remember there have been a couple times when we were little, that Brandy would mention our imaginary brother. I thought she was nuts myself, or else very imaginative. I breathe heavily, I feel like my rib cage is going to collapse any minute now. "Mom and Dad had no right to keep him from us, and they sure as hell had no right to belittle your disease the way they did" "Brandy?" I whimper. "He's our brother Brooke" Brandy says, "He deserves to be in on this, just as much as everyone else does."

"Why?" I wail. "He's never heard of me, why do you think he'd give a damn? Mom didn't care about me, and neither did dad, why would this stranger who I'm just finding out about today care?" Brandy's lips are moving but she is clearly at a loss for words. "So what?" I stammer. "Are you going to call him?" "Shh" Brandy hisses. "For Gods sake Brooke not so loud, I'm sure their's a phone number somewhere" "Brandy" I whimper, "Didn't you say mom and dad disowned him? Doesn't that mean they clearly never want to see him again?" "Well this seems like a situation where they really have no choice" Brandy says, noisily rustling through the pile of papers. "Here's one from a year ago" She says, "Maybe there's someway to contact him there," There is another picture of Brock, he doesn't look any better, then he did in the last picture, the only really clear way I can tell he is older is because of a few age wrinkles here and there. They are standing outside a makeshift trailer park, which is a huge step up from living ina card board box, which I suppose is pretty darn presumptuous, for all I know that was not his home at all. Maybe it was just some random card board box that just happened to be in the background. There is a girl in this other picture. He has his arm wrapped around her neck almost as if he is choking her. Her mouth is smiling, but her eyes are saying the words get the hell away from me. I back away like a backwards spider spinning up it's web. Or maybe like a spider has landed on me. "We are not calling that guy" I say. "Look at this guy, he's disgusting, he looks like he's about to kill that girl" Brandy rolls her eyes and sighs. "You've always been one for melodramatics Brookie monster" she says. "He's not choking her he's" Brandy looks closer at the photo. She then quickly places it in her lap. "This is going to sound really weird Brooke" She says, "But the more nasty stuff I hear about this guy, the more I want to meet him"

"No" I say shaking my head. I take one look into Brandy's eyes, and I know that she is serious. Brandy's always been a serious person, but there are times that she is as serious as the plague, and now is one of those times. "Hey don't forget Brookie monster" She says fingering through my ringlet again (ew that sounded gross) "You were the one who said you wanted to meet him" Chills rush up and down my spine for some reason when I realize that she is right. I suppose I did let something along the lines of wanting to meet him slip off my tongue. "So?" Brandy asks, "Should we give it a go?" I know that there is no arguing with Brandy. Brandy is three years older and three years bossier than me, usually what she says goes. Though I have grown up with getting my way from my parents, there was never "Getting my way" with Brandy. All I can do is beg and plead. Suddenly I hear our mom's loud shrill voice. "GIRLS!" She calls. "Great" I say lamely, "I wonder how long she's been calling us." Brandy takes the roll of dominant big sis once again. "I'm trying to comfort my sister" she calls down the stairs to our mom. "For god sake, she's just been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease" "I've been calling you two for a couple of hours now" Mom says, "Where might you be" "Damnit" Brandy hisses. "We're just" She seems at a loss for words. "We're in the bathroom" I tell her, I'm sure she'll believe it, my crying in the bathroom and being comforted by someone has been known to happen many of times.

"Okay girls" She says, "But just giving you two a heads up, the ravioli is getting cold and it tastes no good heated in the microwave, and how very rude of you two to go and disappear like this in the middle of dinner" "Brooke has Lou Gehrig's Disease" Brandy says again, i've had the diagnosis of Lou Gehrig's Disease for less then an entire day now, and all ready Brandy is playing the card. She's been using it way more than I have, but to be fare, I haven't used it once. "Just make sure you two don't miss the final course" She says.

"It's the most important part of Christmas dinner" I listen very carefully to the sounds of her turning around, that way she won't see what we're up to. "C'mon" I say hurriedly. "No need to rush" Brandy hisses, "There's a phone number on this greeting card" I don't even mention that it is really weird of a person to write down their phone number on a season's greeting card, unless, unless maybe he wanted us to call. "Brooke hey pay attention" Brandy hisses. She reads me the number. "Now put this in your phone" "Me?" I ask, "If anyone should call him it's you, he's never heard of me" I can just imagine the conversation in my head. "Hey Brock, I'm you're enstranged sister, your much much younger sister, the one who you never met or even heard of, I'm dying of Lou Gehrig's Disease" That should go over just peachy. I honestly don't know what Brandy is thinking. "All right, all right" She says, "I'll put it in my phone" "Brandy what are you going to say?" I ask. She stands very still. "Brandy?" I ask again, "I' I don't really know" She says, punching in the number, "But I'll think of something" "Girls!" Mom calls, "I'm about to serve dinner, how do you want your meat?" "Mom" Brandy says again using her dominant voice, "Brooke and I need some time alone. You wouldn't understand it's a sister thing" I'm sure mom would not understand a sister thing, growing up with two much older brothers. "Oh for gods sake" mom huffs, "What on earth can you two possibly be doing up here, that is so time consuming."

"Not hungry" I call from down the stairs, I hope that she get's the point now. "Do you want me to come up here and see what you two are up to?" She asks, I can't believe the way she is saying this like, Brandy and I are two little girls who have gotten caught opening their Christmas presents before Christmas day. "No!" We both holler. "Well all right" Mom says, "Just get down here before the food get's cold" We make our way out of the attic and try as hard as we can not to make too much of a racket. We then hide out in my bedroom.

"All right" Brandy says, "I'm going to do this" She clears her throat several times. "All right" She says, "I think I'm ready" I get myself comfortable, by lying on my stomach on my bed. There is a period of silence, where all that can be heard is the ring tone. I am anxious about whether he picks up the phone or not, and I can tell Brandy is feeling the same way. "Hello" I here a thick southern drawl over the other end of the receiver, he is clearly inebriated, in the back ground I can hear a woman's voice, she is yelling something about her mother's china, there is a heated argument going on and I can tell. I don't think Brandy knows that she has her cell phone on speakerphone and I think it might be pointless now to break it to her. Brandy swallows a couple of times before she speaks. "Hey Brock" She says, her voice sounds muffled. "This is going to sound really weird, it's me, your sister Brandy" She takes a couple of deep breaths, tears are now freely running down her cheeks. Weird, she wasn't crying before, but I guess there is just some kind of emotional bond between her and Brock that I don't know about She sniffles loudly. "We need you here" She says tearfully.

"There's a family emergency" Brock says something inaudible, but I suppose it's not to huge of an assumption that he is asking where we are. Brandy blinks back a couple more tears that have gone unshed for the time being. She then gives him our exact location. I cover my mouth as a way to resist the temptation of telling her that she has just made a terrible mistake. I'm not even sure right now, how I know it's a mistake. I can just tell already. Brock continues to be inaudible and Brandy keeps uh huh'ing. She gingerly hangs up the phone. "He's coming" She says. "W'wait from where?" I ask, "There living in a small suburb west of LA" Brandy tells me, "He and his girlfriend or wife or whatever she is"

"Oh my god" I cry. I cup my hands over my eyes. "Please no" "Brooke it's too late" Brandy says, more tears are splashing down her cheeks, "I already called him. Something as big as Lou Gehrig's Disease? We can't keep that from him" "What are you talking about?" I ask, "Our family isn't exactly the greatest at keeping things from people, oh fuck I mean, scratch that, our family is too good at keeping secrets from us. Why should this be the one thing that's not a secret." "Brooke" Brandy says tearfully. "We have a brother. And he's coming to see us. He really does care about the family. I mean isn't it obvious the way he's sending all those christmas cards. He actually wants to see us. "What are we going to tell mom and dad" I ask, stuffing my face in a fat pillow. "I got it taken care of" Brandy says, she wipes the tears from her eyes, and I follow her down the stairs.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Ted**

Brooke and Brandy walk down the stairs in a single file. Both of them appear red nosed and teary eyed, and I can already tell this is not a good thing. "All right girls" Wendy says, giving both of them a generous stare.

"No nonsense! What were you two up to just now" Neither of them say a word. I've never really thought about it long and hard, but this is the first time I've noticed the family resemblance.

They as a matter a fact look more like sister's then I've ever seen them look like before, which is especially odd seeing how differently they are dressed. Brooke all dolled up in an old fashioned gown, and Brandy all hipster with the barley combed through stringy hair, clad in a Micky Mouse shirt. Her demeanor simply says fuck you Christmas, and I couldn't be in more agreeance with her demeanor. The sisters have identical troublesome looks plastered on their faces. "Well?" Wendy asks, giving them both an icy glair as she corners them the way a shark would corner its prey. Brandy clears her throat. "We uh, we have a friend coming" Wendy's face becomes more relaxed.

"Well that's great girls" She says, "I've made so much food, the more the merrier, who is this friend" The two of them clam up. "He uh" Brandy finally said, "You uh, you don't know him" She rings her hands around in a creepy autistic sort of way, which I kind of always wondered if she might be. "Oh I see" Wendy says, still glaring icily. It is making me all sorts of uncomfortable and tense. The girls go to sit down. "Hold up" Wendy says, "I'm not through with the two of you" They continue to look uneasy.

"How do you know this fellow?" "From online" Brandy says shuffling her feet nervously. "Wait, wait wait" Wendy says huffily. "You found him on an online dating sight didn't you? That's a very cruel thing to go and do, when you have a well not perfectly good girlfriend by any means, but a girlfriend named Susan. Besides I thought you were, you know" "Lesbian" Brandy says rolling her eyes.

"Yes that" "Good lord" Brandy says, "We didn't meet him on a dating site, we met him on a chat room, yeah." Wendy raises one eyebrow. "A Chat room" She asks, doesn't ask actually, she states it. "What kind of chat room would the two of you be going on? And what makes you think you can trust this person enough to give him our address?" Brandy clears her throat. "It's not as much as a chat room as it is a forum" Wendy looks baffled, "I don't understand girls" She says, "What sort of forum?" She looks from Brandy to Brooke.

"It's about Lou" Brandy nudges Brooke really hard in the ribcage. She nervously twists her face around. "Um yeah she's right" She says, "Lou Gehrig's Disease, I met this guy on a forum for people with siblings with Lou Gehrig's disease" She smiles nervously. "Hold up" Wendy says, "Something sounds very fishy about this, you couldn't have been on the forum for very long obviously you just found out today that your sister has Lou Gehrig's Disease" "Right!" Brandy says. I can tell by the look on her face, that she is very much unable to dig herself out of this hole. "Um there was just something about him and I that really clicked. He has a sister exactly Brooke's age with the disease"

She rings her hands. This whole story sounds fishier by the second, a very unlikely coincidence. "How on earth did you contact this person?" Wendy asks. "What kind of person gives his phone number or email on a forum?" "Actually lot's of people give their emails on forum's" I chip in. Wendy ignores me just like she's been doing. It's as if I am not here. "Well then girls" Wendy asks, "How on earth does this guy know where we live." "Uh" Brandy says and drawls on like that for a while. Fortunately she is saved by the ringing of the doorbell.

"I'll get it?" I offer. "Oh don't be so ridiculous Ted" Wendy says, "You're just a guest in this house, it's not your job to get it. I'll get it" "n'no" I say, "I insist" "oh well all right" Wendy says turning away dramatically. I swear everything she does is done dramatically. I open the door. Two people, a man and a woman are walking up to the doorstep. They seem just about as unhappy with each other as you can get.

"Oh come on Brock" The girl says to a long haired man. "These people are your family, they really wanted to see you. Why are you so scared?" The man who I suppose is Brock, turns to the girl who I assume must be his girl friend. "Well my family and I we don't exactly get along" "Oh Brock" The girl says, "I don't want to sound all corny or anything, but it's Christmas! Tis the season for family's to get together and all that jazz. You're lucky you're family is healthy." Brock turns and shakes his girl friend.

"Didn't you hear the message FAMILY EMERGENCY" The girl quickly turns away. "You're hurting me" She says sternly, "If your family wants you to be here then it's pretty clear that they didn't really cut you off" "Look Kim" Brock says, "You wanted to come here more than I did" "Well maybe half of that was because I didn't want to eat the same old Top Ramen for Christmas Dinner, don't you think it's nice that for once we got invited to something? Don't we deserve better than top Ramen on fine china? Even if it is fine China it's still the same gas station food we eat every day, because you can't keep a job!" "Well I don't see you getting a job" "What are you talking about?" Kim hisses, "I have two part time gas station jobs,"

"Family emergency" Brock says again, "Don't you get it Kim? They completely cut me off, and now conveniently enough, they need me because their's a family emergency?" "Brock look" Kim says sternly, "We have no heat in our house, we're dirt poor. This is a hell of a lot better than nothing, come on let's go" I stand there lamely smiling at the two of them. I suddenly realize that Brooke has, an uncle? Cousin, or maybe even. Brother?"

Brooke never during the whole time we've dated mentioned a brother. "Hey you deaf?" Brock asks me. "I said let us in already" Kim nudges him hard in the rib cage. "Why do you have to act like such an asshole all the time?" She asks.

"Sorry" I say. "C'mon in" I don't know it now, but I have just made the mistake of the century. "Mom, Dad?" Brock says, he sounds really frightened under his tough boy demeanor. My stomach does a forward flip and then a back flip. The guy really is Brooke's brother, she has been keeping him from me all these years, now I'm starting to wonder what else she's been keeping from me all these years. Wendy and Steve's full attention is on their son. Both of them go all bug eyed and drop their silverware. Steve marches up to him. "When we kicked you out of the house 25 years ago, we were pretty firm with you. We said NEVER come back again, I don't think there was any way we could have been more clear"

"B'but!" Brock stammers, "Brandy invited me here!" "Brandy Jane Shy!" Wendy snaps. "I am so disappointed in you. I can't believe I fell for your stupid lie. You tricked me. And you tricked me damn good"

"Hi Mom!" Brock says meekly. "Don't you ever call me Mom again!" She snaps, "I am not your biological mother and you know it, as a matter a fact I am not your mother at all. You were disowned a long long long time ago as you very well remember."

"Well for your information!" Brock snaps, "I was summoned here because apparently there is a family emergency! Is there really a family emergency or was it a huge mistake to come here?" Brandy screws her face up and clears her throat. "It's our sister" She says, "She has Lou Gehrig's Disease" "Wait!" Brock says, "I have another sister?" Now this is really throwing me through the loop, and to make the whole thing even more uncomfortable than it already is, I feel even more like a useless bystander, like someone who is just looking in on a family fight.

I know I have been married into this family (Really recently I might add, maybe this family is just slow to warm up to new kin) but I still feel like I am not a part of the family. I can tell that Tequila and Kim must feel the same way. It is a Shy family thing and all three of us are smart enough to stay the fuck out of it. I got to hand it to Brooke, between the two of us she definitely has the more dynamic family. I was born the only child of very white bread parents, who were never much into drama, that's why they weren't super enthusiastic about me joining a college frat, they were supportive and all, but never really liked to be involved, which was kind of weird because they were both College legend greek members before they settled down and got boring. Apparently they didn't want to see me follow in their footsteps.

I guess maybe they just lived out their glory days in college and already did all the exciting things they needed to do. I really wish we had been invited to Christmas Eve at their house, it would be boring, but hell it would have been more comfortable. We got invites from both sets of parents, but Wendy was so much more convincing then my very nonchalant mother. I swear Wendy was on her knees begging us to come. My parents have gone vegan somewhere within the last couple of years, so we probably would have had something on the lines of nut loaf for dinner. We'd probably then spend of the rest of the night sitting comfortably on the couch watching "It's A Wonderful Life"

"Why didn't I know I had another sister?" Brock asks, very rudely interrupting me from my wishy washy state of mind. "Because Brock" Wendy says tightly. "Why would you have known that? We had Brooke after we disowned you"

"Wait Brooke?" He asks. "Wow real subtle WENDY. I see exactly what you did there and it's sick"

Wendy moves her lips but nothing comes out of her mouth. "What?" Wendy asks. "What are you talking about? What was I apparently trying to do?" It is Brooke's turn to speak up. "Don't play dumb" She says poutingly, "I think you know what you did" She folds her arms tightly across her chest, and stares down at her feet. Wendy stares from her oldest son to her youngest daughter. "Oh come on you two" She says, "Don't be ridiculous, I really like the name Brooke, it has always been one of my most favorite names, now don't make this into anything more than it has to be" It seems to be the first time Brock has discovered Brooke. It is not such a hard thing to do, Brooke has been so quiet ever since the beginning of her illness, it's very easy to forget she's in the room "Brock?" Brandy says lamely, "This is our sister Brooke. Brooke, this is our brother Brock" The two of them shake hands woodenly. Brock suddenly goes all bug eyed the same way Steve and Wendy had when he first came in.

"Brooke Shy?" He asks. "Y'You're THAT Brooke Shy?" Brooke appears more timid and uncomfortable by the second. "W'what Brooke Shy is that?" She asks. "The one from the Internet" And now the plot thickens. "From the Internet Brock?" Kim snaps. Brock scratches the back of his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She snaps. "Are you seeing someone online?" She moves in a couple steps closer. Brock laughs nervously, and I don't mean just tiny giggles, he gives out a loud chest laugh, I swear it's one of the loudest laughs I've ever heard. "It's not like that at all Kim" He says. "I found the website on complete accident when I googled myself, the question do you mean Brooke Shy popped up?"

"You googled your self?" Kim snaps, pure hatred is falling from her glossy lips. "What kind of an arrogant freak google's themselves"

Apparently Kim isn't all that computer savvy. "Actually" I say in a lame far away voice that doesn't sound much like my own. "A lot of people google themselves, it's kind of a common activity on the internet" Kim completely ignores me, I really do feel invisible, or maybe a little bit like a goldfish in an aquarium, like there is a big wall standing between us that separates me from the rest of the group. "What website did you find her on?" Kim asks. Brock scratches the back of his head again. He seems to have a habit of doing that quite a lot.

"Just JOGO/JUEGO fotolog. com" He says. He sounds as guilty as ever. "That, that pron sight?" Kim asks. "I didn't know" Brock says, "I really honestly didn't know" "Honestly?" Kim asks. "No offense or anything, but isn't it really obvious. Didn't you notice that there are like a total of ugly people on there? Zero normal looking people?" "It's the honest to God truth Kim" "Well all righty than" Kim says through grit teeth. "If you're so big on telling the truth all of a sudden, then let's hear you tell the truth on this one. How much time do you go on this website?" She asks "Only one time Kim" He says, "Do you believe it?" "Do you jack off about her?" She asks "Do you?" She asks. "Of course not Kim" He says, then let's out another uncomfortable full chested laugh. "Aw C'mon Kim" Brock says. "I'm a guy, guy's get turned off by that, I'm only human" Kim shrugs her shoulders and turns away. "Kim!" Brock says grabbing her by the arm and turning her sharply around. "My god Brock, don't do that" She snaps.

"Is that all? You're just looking at porn. I'm not upset that you're looking at porn or anything. I thought you were seeing another girl online. I know guys do that. I'm glad you were honest with me, and I'm really sorry that you're sister has Lou Gehrig's Disease"

"You got another chair WENDY?" Brock asks. Wendy folds her arms tightly across her chest. "I think I made myself crystal clear" She says. "You're not invited. Kim you seem like a very fine young woman" She says turning to her. "You're welcome to stay"

"Yes Kim" Steve says, "You're such a beautiful young woman, you could have any guy in the world, what the hell are you doing with my son? Don't you think you deserve a lot better?" Brock's face turns bright red. "I'm not that bad kid you disowned long ago." He says, "I'm a totally different person now" He then very sappily places his hand to his heart. "I'm a changed Man" He says. Steve glares icily at his disowned son. He then turns his full attention to Kim, "Where'd you two meet anyway?" He asks. "At a group therapy class, both our therapists recommended for us."

"See dad" "Steve!" He says icily" I swear that guy is frightening, so frightening that it ignoring him right now would be the best thing. "I'm in group therapy" Brock says, "Isn't that a sign that I'm doing better and you know wanting to do better" Both his parents give him disapproving looks.

"Good lord" Wendy says face palming."C'mon Ma" He says apparently forgetting that she had very recently told him never to call him that. "Wendy!" She snaps. "My name is Wendy and don't forget that, I am not Ma or Mom or Mommy or Mother or Mama to you. You're mother is Diane Walters, she died during your birth of Pre Eclampsia. For your information Mister, I didn't even want you in the first place. The only reason I took you in was because I was so in love with your father that I was willing to take all his leftovers and unfortunately, you were part of that whole leftover package. I always counted down the days till you left for college, if you went to college that is, if not I counted down the days till you were officially and adult "

The way Wendy says all this especially the first part, I know she really needs for Brock to think it's his fault that his mother died. "Thank you" He says angrily, "As if that whole being unwanted business wasn't something I didn't hear enough of every single day" He keeps trying. "Wendy" He says clearing his throat. "This must be a huge misunderstanding, Brandy invited me over and I thought we were all on the same page here, I thought you all needed me here." Wendy continues to fold her arms across her arms with a look of despair and anger plastered upon her face. He shoots Brandy the same look he is giving his parents. "You are so right" Wendy says bitterly. "We are not on the same page,

I will have a talk with Brandy later" Brandy makes a nervous gulp. I try to make an escape in the back of my head. I am at my parents house. It is boring, but to tell you truth nutloaf, It's A Wonderful Life, and a little makeshift gas station Christmas tree sounds just amazing to me. Anything to get away from this drama. Cross that out. Not drama. Soap Opera. A lot like the Soap Opera my mother used to watch when I was growing up.

I don't know the name of the Soap Opera. All I know, is that it was dubbed "Mommy's Show" That made me all the more curious to watch it, a forbidden show. I had my own shows like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Batman and Robbin, Beevis and Butthead, Freakazoid, Transformers and Power Rangers that my mother never watched with me, but somehow the fact that she called it "Mommy's Show" was really made it all the more intriguing. As you might have guessed as lame as it may sound, I was really excited when my mother finally declared me old enough, to watch Mommy's Show with her. I never found out what the show was actually called, and from that day on, I always think of it as "Mommy's show" for all I know and what little knowledge of soap operas I have, that is what it's called, and that whatever it was really called didn't matter. I hated it, it was really sappy and corny and very well for lack of a better word gay, yet at the same time I couldn't stop watching it. (Although I stopped watching once I got to High School)

I guess you'd call that the train wreck effect or something along those lines. Any who, this whole scene with Brooke's brother is something straight out of "Mommy's show" A couple of sister's being re'aquainted with a brother they didn't know they had and all that jazz. The show always had guest appearances in practically every episode. And that is exactly what I feel like in this soap opera. The Guest Star.

"The Shy Family" Guest starring Ted Sanders. Co Starring Kim Not sure what her last name is, and Susan Anderson. So That's it in a nutshell, I am a guest star in this family's drama. Now, all I can do is sit back and watch. I have never been much of a watcher. I am a doer for God's sake. I was the leader of my Frat for God's fucking sake. Brooke is my fucking girlfriend. So why the fuck am I not used to her family yet? Why the fuck do I feel like I'm going to freeze in their presence? I'm just not, and I just do. That's it. "

I care about her" Brock says, "She's my baby sister, and she's dying" Just then Wendy slaps him hard across the face. Brock looks shocked. "No!" She snaps. "She is not your sister! She is your half sister! And don't you dare forget that! Not even that. As you probably well know, she was born after we disowned you. Therefore she has no relationship whatsover to you"

"I love her" He blurts out lamely, which I know can't possibly be true. "No!" Wendy snaps, "You just think you do because you're in lust with her. You weren't there for her birth, you weren't there for her first word, you weren't their for her first day of Kindergarten, and you sure as hell weren't there for her wedding" "All right! I get it" He says, "But I am here now!" "Yes" I interject, once again my voice sounds a little out of bodyish.

"Isn't it enough that he's here the day she got her diagnosis, and on Christmas for god's sake. "No!" Wendy snaps, "You walk out the door this instant." Now she is getting physical, she grabs him by the arm "Kim, you can stay." She says giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. "How Am I going to get home?" He whines. "Hitch hike for all I fucking care" Wendy snaps. Brock does not leave, he stays, he sure as hell stays all right. As a matter a fact he grabs a chair and sits himself down at the table and begins helping himself to the food. Steve slaps his hand. "Not for you boy" He snaps, "Don't even think about it" "Oh okay" He says, "I see what this is all about" "Oh do you?" Wendy asks folding her arms across her chest. "It's either me or her" He says pointing to Brooke. "You obviously chose her, because obviously you can't have both of us. As far as I'm concerned it was never me and Brooke, it was me or Brooke?" Wendy's mouth is open but no words come out.

"Don't play dumb with me" Brock says angrily. "We never did get to finish this conversation did we?" "What?" Wendy asks, blinking her eyes in utter confusion. "Yeah that's right" Brock says bitterly, "Just keep on pretending you don't know what I'm talking about. That's really going great for you" "What am I supposed to say?" Wendy asks. "How close was she to being Brock 2.0?" Wendy looks continually more shocked by the second.

"Not close at all. Isn't that right Steve, we knew we were getting a baby girl 6 weeks into the pregnancy, after seeing my 6 week ultra sound" "Yeah so those 5 weeks before? You were really considering naming it Brock 2.0" Brock asks "That's ridiculous" Steve says, "Who names their kid 2.0?" He and Wendy have a nice laugh. Brooke fiddles at her plate. "How close was I Mom? To being Brock version 2.0?" She asks, setting both elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands. I guess she and Brock see eye to eye on this whole thing. "No elbows on the table Brookie's and Cream!" Wendy says. It couldn't possibly be more obvious right now that Brooke is the favorite, I mean all three of her family members (Excluding Brock of course) Have three separate pet names for her. In one night, I have heard her get called, Brookie Dough, Brookie Monster and Brookie's and Cream. It's all a little sickeningly sweet if you ask me. My parents were not into the sappy nickname thing. Not at all. I was called Teddy by both of my parents, and when I was in trouble Theodor, and now that I'm older they call me Ted like everyone else. Steve looks really upset like he is going to flip his lid any second.

"C'mon Wendy" He says, "Just tell the kids the truth" "There's no truth to tell" Wendy says. "Nobody replaced anybody." "C'mon Wendy" Steve says. "We both know it's true" Brooke's face goes completely pale. "It's true?" Both Brooke and Brock ask in accidental unison. Perfect unison, I must add. "No" Wendy says. "Admit it Wendy" He begins counting down from 10.

"Fine it's true!" Wendy says, now she is crying. Brock places his hand on Brooke's shoulder. "Damn Brooke You all right?" He asks. Brooke shakes her head slowly. "No!" She says, "How about you. Are you okay?" "You are a sick and twisted monster Wendy" Brock shoots out. "I see why you don't want me here, you never wanted me!" His voice is starting to break as if any second now he's going to start bawling. "I agree" Brooke says folding her arms across her chest. Wendy's face crumples and tears leap out of her eyes.

"See what you've gone and done?" Steve snaps, "You made your mother cry, or rather you made that person who's not your mother cry. Get out" His voice sounds really scary. "I don't care if you're a changed man. I wouldn't care if you were the most important man alive. You are NOT my son! GET OUT!" That does it Brock immidiatly bolts out the door. I'm not sure why, but for some reason I feel obligated to comfort him, I don't just yet. I just sit at the table feeling completely stunned. Kim goes over and puts her hand on Brooke's shoulder.

"Are you all right Brooke?" She asks. Brooke says nothing, she just stares with the same exact look she had in her eyes at the hospital right when she found out about her diagnosis. Poor Brooke must be having the worst Christmas in the history of the universe. First she get's diagnosed with ALS, then she finds out she has a crazy older brother who was disowned and now she finds out that she is HIS replacement.

"Merry Christmas!" Brandy drawls, and I don't think there could have been better perfect timing for that. As Kim and Brooke go upstairs to have some "Girl time" I decide to check on Brock. He is sitting on the porch bawling, just bawling. I swear I've never seen any cry as hard as this super manly looking man sitting right next to me. "You okay man?" I ask putting my hand on his shoulder. "I tried so damn hard" He moans "so hard to change for them. I tried so hard to be likable. I joined a god damn fucking church for gods sake, That? That is something I'd never do." He gives out a frustrated laugh through all his wailing and bawling. "The things you try to do to impress your parents. I could be the most successful person on the planet and they'd still hate me" Once again I feel like an outsider. It does not feel good feeling like an outsider. He lays his head on my lap and for some reason I let him, even though the thought of cradling this crazy badass tough guy who very possibly has a criminal record somewhere disconcerting beyond belief. The fact that he is really letting it out bawling, makes him seem almost human, like beyond his tough exterior he is nothing but a terrified little boy betrayed by his own family. "I'm a failure of a human being!" He moans throwing his head back like a wounded animal, as tears run freely down his cheeks. "If my parents don't love me why should I love myself. I don't. I fucking hate myself. I'm a fucking bad boy, I have nothing going for me. Nothing god damnit" "You have a girlfriend who really cares about you." I volunteer. It is the first time in a while that I've heard my voice.

"What do you know?" He sobs, "She doesn't know the real me. Our whole relationship is based a lie. A whole god damn web of lies for gods sake. She doesn't know the whole story, she really does think I'm a changed man. I am not a god damn changed man. Want proof? I'll prove it right now. He then marches right up to Wendy and Steve's fancy Mercedes, the one they had let me use to take Brooke to prom in. "Brock no!" I shout, as I watch the car burst into flames. I have no idea how he's done it, I didn't see any gasoline or matches, he just started on fire just like that. Apparently Kim has been watching the whole thing. In an Instant she is outside. "What the fuck Brock!" She snaps,

"You lied to me, you said that guy who set fires was gone! That it was a thing of the past and now here you are setting a fire. God damnit" He looks into Kim's betrayed eyes. "All right fine" Brock says. "I lied. But I'll tell you the honest to god truth right now. You want to here it?" Kim stares at him icily. "I did not set their car on fire" Kim throws a bunch of Brock's stuff at him. "I just saw you!" She says icily. "Now take your stuff and get the hell away from me" Brock moves closer to her. "C'mon Kim" He says "You can't honestly believe I set my parents car on fire, I mean I didn't have any gasoline or matches or any of that you stupid ditz. "Don't call me that" Kim snaps. "I don't know how you did, it, but I fucking saw you and so did Ted here, I'm going to tell your parents" Brock then comes up to Kim and slaps her really hard across the face. "You tell anyone about this and I swear I'll kill you" Kim drops to her knees crying possibly even harder then Brock had been. "You okay?" I ask her. "Gimme your phone" She says still crying. "I don't feel safe around him. I'm calling the police"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 Brooke**:

I stare up at the ceiling, becoming dizzier by the second. It is true. I am the replacement of that rotten product of Steve's first marriage. I didn't even know my dad was married in the first place.

Demons. This Christmas is full of them. As I look around the room I realize something. I hate it. I hate my bedroom. It is sickening. It's all based on a complete web of lies, just like my whole relationship with my parents. It seems really fake, the teddy bears, dolls and posters all seem to have kind of a robotic feel to them. I stare at the picture of Ted and I at senior prom, we look almost like a pare of puppets. Now I am scared. I don't know whether this is a symptom of Lou Gehrig's Disease, or if it is a symptom of betrayal, I am not even sure if it matters or not. The pins and needles in my leg become more and more intense. I can here shouting outside.

Kim is tearfully calling the police and telling them that she no longer feels safe around Brock. Brock is tearfully apologizing.

"Kim. I'm sorry god damnit. I would never hurt you,

"You already did!" Kim sobs, her voice is full of betrayal. "I'll never do it again" I would come out and join all the drama, except for the fact that I am immobile due to pins and needles, dizziness and just the general worsening of Lou Gehrig's Disease." A terrible thought suddenly crosses my mind. It is all because of me and my Lou Gehrig's Disease, that this whole fiasco had to happen. And now I just want to be alone, the only ones I want to have any connection with are the anthropomorphic pictures that the chipped paint on my wall and ceilings have made. I know there's a word for it, I just don't know it. There is a sharp knock at my door. "Brooke open this door this instant" My mother says. I pretend I don't hear her.

"Brooke Veronica Shy" She snaps. "I don't have anything to say to you" I tell the ceiling. "You must want your favorite eggnog cheese cake" She calls up to me. How can she just go on pretending everything's fine, how does she think she can make up for all of this with eggnog cheese cake?

Don't get me wrong, it is super amazing and everything, but it won't make up for the fact that I have Lou Gehrig's Disease, or that I have a psychotic brother, or that the only reason for my entire existence was to replace that psychotic piece of shit. Obviously everything is so not fine. Apparently I did not lock my door. My mother lets herself in and sits on the side of the bed.

"Christmas was quite a disaster this year wasn't it?" She asks. The tone of her voice is very passive aggressive. "I don't want to talk to you" I say staring up at the ceiling. "There's quite a lot we need to discuss" She says smoothing out my blankets.

"I think you've said everything you needed to say" I tell her then roll over to my side. My mom lies next to me, the way she used to when I was a little girl and had a nightmare. "Kim called the police" She tells me, "Brock physically harmed her" "Oh my god" I say,

"Is she okay?" "The important thing is, Brock's out of the picture for the time being, he's been sentenced for 14 years in prison for physical harm. But of course up until now, he wasn't in the picture" I cover my face with my lacy pink pillow. "Oh shit mom, I'm so sorry. Look there's so much for me to think about it. Could we please not discuss it now? I want to be alone" My mom lifts the pillow up from my face.

"Well if you don't want to talk about it now, then when would you like to talk about it?" She asked, "Because believe me Brooke Veronica Shy, this is absolutely not going to go un talked about. "I don't know" I say re stuffing my face in my pillow.

"How about tomorrow?" She suggests in a way that I cannot say not to. "Why don't we have lunch in fact? I'll make reservations at Drago Centro's fine dining" She says, using her evil weapon, she knows very well I can't resist the awesomely amazing finest italian restaurant in all of LA. They are especially famous for their hand made four cheese tortellini, it is melt in your mouth good and I am not even a big fan of tortellini, usually it's icky and the texture reminds me a lot of ears filled with a shit ton of wax.

Drago Centro's tortellini's are different. They are to die for as a matter a fact. My mother is evil for suggesting that restaurant when I want to be as far away from her as humanly possible and am dying to hold the conversation off for as long as possible. just plain evil. I would like to stay mad at her for as long as possible. To stew in my own juices for a while. "No!" I say curtly. "I don't want to" I fold my arms across my chest.

"Brooke" She says sharply. "We're going!" "It's been a long time since we've had any good mother daughter bonding time. It will be fun. Oh and before we go to lunch, I think we should stop in and give Candy a little talking to." "No!" I say again. "Please don't" I don't want my job back. Not even in the slightest. My mother gives me the stare and I know that when she gives me that stare it is going to be bad. I can not say no to her when she gives me the stare. "Oh all right fine" I say grudgingly. "I'll make reservations right now" She says.

"Super" I say. My mom straightens out my blankets again. "It's going to be okay honey" She says, "You'll see" "It is not!" I say, apparently she has no idea that that is a terrible thing to say right now. So let's see about this, I have Lou Gehrig's Disease, I lost my job, my family pretty much hates each other, my brother's a psycho path, I just found out the real reason of my existence, and my mother is clearly very disappointed in me, but despite all that, it's all good. I guess the whole process of making reservations takes a whole lot shorter then I realize, or maybe Drago Centro's is much faster to take reservations than I remember. My mom is instantly in my room. "We have reservations for 12:00" She tells me. "Maybe it's best that you stay the night" I think if anything I deserve to stay the night, after getting diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease for gods sake. "Fine" I say staring at the blank ceiling. "I'll let Ted know" "Fine" I say again. There is really nothing else to say.

I guess I must have fallen asleep and I must have slept pretty darn well, because the next thing I know my mother knocks at the door and let's herself in, which in my own expert opinion totally defeats the whole purpose of knocking.

"Wake up Brookie's and Cream" She says, using the annoying nickname on me, the nickname she's been using on me since I was six and probably for even longer than that. I groan.

"Really Mom?" I ask. My mother's face is my alarm clock that morning, as she stands right beside my bed.

"C'mon Brookie's and Cream" She says tagging on the super annoying nickname, the one that I never liked. "It's a brand new day, full of so many brand new opportunities" I yawn widely, "Mom it's only" "11:00" She says, "You've gotten your well worth of beauty sleep, no time to waste" She pulls the covers from my bed. 'Wow' I think to myself, 'Have I really slept that late' usually I don't let myself sleep that late.

"Get into your nicest cloths" My mother says throwing me my black dress from Candy herself. "We want to make a good impression on Candy don't we?" She asks. I groan inwardly. I have somehow forgotten that Candy was part of the deal. I have somehow forgotten how much it means to my mother that I got my stupid job back. The glaring light shows through my window.

"Fine!" I say grudgingly, yanking the dress away from her. "My Goodness Brookies and Cream, be careful with that, it's a really nice dress, you don't want it to get a tear. I roll my eyes.

"Be polite to Candy" She says, "In fact be on your best manners. Act like your at a job interview" "For craps sake Mom" I say, "It's not like I'm interviewing with some completely new person, Candy knows me perfectly well. I'm not trying to make an impression on anybody" "Well aren't we cranky?" She asks rhetorically folding her arms tightly across her chest.

"Not to worry" She says, handing me the paper to go cup that has been resting on the top of my dresser. "I went through the liberty of making you a breve" 'Liberty my ass' I think bitterly to myself as I roll over to my side. My mother made me a Breve, every morning before I went to school ever since I developed a taste for coffee, before that it was always steamers. Princessy? Yes maybe a little.

Well okay maybe a lot, but I am my parents little Princess. I put on the fancy black dress she has picked out for me, and she helps me with the little buttons, which I clearly cannot handle by myself with my useless right hand. I guess my mother is sort of accepting my disease, she knows that I am unable to perform day to day tasks like buttoning my dress but on the other hand, she still has ridiculously high expectations for me.

She then takes the hair brush from my night stand and begins running it through my soft blonde hair. It makes me sad, and I can tell it makes her sad as well as I notice her eyes fill with tears. She goes even more over board with the whole thing when she brushes my teeth for me, and apply's all my make up. Realistically however, I can't do any of that stuff myself. What is unrealistic is that she expects me to still be able to model and probably still be able to actively participate in gymnastics and ultimate frisbee and all that, she hasn't come out and said any of that, but I am terrified to ask.

We say nothing in the car, which is fine by me. I suppose Mom must be holding off our big conversation for the restaurant. I take it as an opportunity to listen to Sunday Lane on my Ipod. We pull in front of the agency in what seems like hours.

"C'mon Brooke" My mother says opening the door for me. I do not feel like getting out of the car.

"Brooke sweetie for God's sake, we're here!" "I'm not going to get my job back"

"Just watch me" She says unbuckling my seat belt, making me feel all the more helpless. I roll my eyes.

"C'mon Brooke" She begs, "It's all I can do to make up for last nights little atrocity, which really isn't fair seeing you were just as much a part of it as me, but nevertheless, we're going to get you your job back. I can't possibly tell my mother that I don't want it back. After all here she is going through all the trouble. As we walk into the building I try to make myself as invisible as possible, which is actually very easy for me, considering the amount of weight I've lost due to ALS. The one who I am worried about is my mother, Wendy just has a huge larger then life presence to her. When Wendy Shy enters a room, it is never something to go unnoticed. Thankfully the girls are too busy with a photo shot to notice us. Thank God! Unfortunately our invisibility does not last. As my mother calls attention to herself.

"Is Candice Collette Here?" She asks, "Can I please speak with a Candice Collette?" I am so embarrassed, I stand behind my mother making my self look all the more invisible. Girls are staring, hopefully they do not see me, and if they do they will not associate me with Wendy.

"Candy's in her office" One of the girls says. My mother suddenly gets the sense of being followed. "Brooke sweetie" She says,

"Stop trudging behind me, that is not the way you're supposed to walk with people" I'd never heard that as a rule, but let me tell you something now I have gotten the girls full attention. If they hadn't known I was here before, they sure as hell know it now.

"Thanks a lot Mom" I moan under my breath. "For crying out loud Brooke" She says. "And get that pouty look off your face. Smile" She can't seriously expect me to smile can she? There is nothing in the wold, I feel less like doing than smiling. I give the best fake smile that I can give. "That's my girl" My mom says petting me on the head like some kind of animal. We make our way up to Candy's Office. Wendy pounds very hard on the door. "C'mon in" Candy says. She is doing some paper work, and I can tell that she is pretty darn busy.

"Hello Candice Collette" My mother says. "I'm Brooke's mother Wendy Shy" She holds out her hand. Candy shakes it reluctantly. "Please call me Candy" She says. I can tell she is intimidated. I stand beside my mother staring helplessly at the ground. "What's this I hear about you firing my daughter?" Candy begins licking an envelope and sealing it tight. "Let's look as this as more letting her go" She says, "She couldn't do any of the work, her balance was off, her gait was unsteady, she was breaking a lot of things" "Would it make any difference if I told you my daughter has a serious medical condition?" My mom asks.

"No, I uh didn't know" Candy says, "She did give us all quite a scare when she was helicoptered to the emergency room" "She has Lou Gehrig's Disease" My mom says as if it's the most obvious thing ever. "Oh good heavens" Candy says, "Brooke I'm so sorry" My mother folds her arms across her chest looking very smug.

"Now who's sorry about firing my daughters ass?" "I really am sorry Wendy" Candy says, "But if she can't do the work, then it's best we let her go" "Brooke's been modeling since she was in middle school" My mother tells her. "You can't fire her, as a matter a fact you did not fire her, nor did you let her go? Do you know why?" Candy stares blankly at us blinking her eyes. "It's because she quits god damnit, she fucking quits" "Huh?" I ask, it really takes me by surprise seeing I have had no intention of quitting.

"You see, Brooke does not get fired. Nobody fires my daughter. If anything doesn't work out for her, then she should be the one to decide not you. My mouth opens but it is too dry for any words to come out. I have always thought that my mother hated quitting. I suppose she hates being fired even more though.

"There are some part time model jobs" Candy suggests, "These jobs are way less strenuous, there are also back up jobs, maybe she could fill in for another model" "My daughter will do no such thing. Please give her, her old job back. Modeling means the world to my daughter" That is news to me. "You can make accommodations for her can't you?" Candy opens her mouth.

"Brooke sweetie" She says, "Why don't you wait outside, I think it's going to get a bit ugly now" "Fine okay" I say as I clumsily shift my feet into the hallway. Now I know the girls are whispering. "Brooke oh my god" The Black/Asian/Costa Rican girl says, I think her name is China, that sounds like it can go either way.

"You're okay! Are you all right?" "No" I say shaking my head. "No?" Another model asks me. "Oh my god what happened?" Another asks. Before I can answer any of the questions, my mother steps back out of the office. "You got your job back" She tells me. "You will start again on the 2nd of January, isn't that great news" I give her a sad smile, but a smile never the less. "The best" I say. "Let's go out and celebrate" She says, even though we were planing on going for italian food no matter what. "Sure" I say apathetically.

"Thanks Mom!" She says bitterly as we pull up at Drago Centro. It's so annoying and pathetic when my mother does that. Not that I don't have a terrible habit myself of blurting out "Your forgiven" when no one apologizes right away. I do not even feel thankful, not in the slightest bit. I did not even want that job back in the first place. I don't even want to know how she got it back for me, all I know is she's very persuasive.

In middle school, Brandy really wanted to switch teams, I guess she thought the kids on the other team would treat her better then all the horrible bullies on her team. My mother went and talked to the schools administrator and it was all decided, Brandy had a brand new scheduel, it was one of the only times in the history of ever that she actually went to bat for Brandy, and I suppose after Brandy's response I can see why she's never done her any favors since. Right now I feel like Brandy, I really wish I had the ability to be up front about it like my sister, but I have always been a nicer and much less brave person then Brandy, besides Brandy was only 13 then and didn't know better. I am 25 years old and I do know better. I hold my tongue. Lunch already is pretty much a disaster when we start taking our orders. "We'll get two of the tortellini's with marinara sauce" My mother says.

"Anything to drink?" The waitress asks. "I'll get a glass of Bolgheri Rosso Le Macchiole" I say, placing down the drink menu. "Brooke sweetie" My mom says leaning in. "Do you really think that's a good idea"

"Sure!" I say, "It's 5:00 somewhere in the world right now isn't it?" My mom rolls her eyes. "I meant with your you know what."

I don't see why she doesn't just come out and say Lou Gehrig's disease. She's probably trying to protect one of us's dignity, although right now I'm not really sure who's dignity she's trying to protect. I've already lost all of my dignity today when we went to speak with Candy. Most likely her own, although she had no problem saying it out loud to candy. She is so arbitrary when she wants to be.

"Do you really think you should have alcohol with your condition?" She asks. "Is there any reason why I shouldn't?" I ask. "Alcohol is very bad for your ballance and your ahem, condition is already affecting your ballance." "Oh I see" I say, "Alcohol is very brain damaging and I'm already brain damaged enough"

"That's not what I said" My mother says sharply. "For heavens sake Brooke, stop putting words into my mouth." It takes me by surprise to see that the waitress is still there, and that the conversation hasn't seemed to even register to her. "What can I get for you ma'am?" She asks my mother. "We'll both get water" She says. "My daughter doesn't do alcohol"

Unfortunately when the food arrives I can no longer contain myself. "I don't want my stupid job back!" I say, stirring the perfectly sauced tortellini with the perfect amount of marninera, sprinkled delicately with parmesan cheese around with my fork totally mutilating it's beautiful presentation. My mothers eyes widen as she sets down her fork, I get the feeling she was ready to throw that thing, but we are at a fancy restaurant after all. "What did you just say?" She asks, the tone of her voice is very bitter. "Well you heard me" I say evenly, continuing to stir my food around the plate. "I did hear you" My mother says,

"But just to make sure, could you repeat that?" I drop my fork. "I said I don't want my stupid job back" I mumble to the floor. "Can't hear you" My mother says dramatically putting her hand to her ear. "You need to speak up and for gods sake, look at me when you're talking" I place my hands to my chin.

"Elbows" She says. Sharply. I realize that she is a matter a fact right, I do have my elbows on the table. I place my hands in my lap. "I said" I say looking her right in the eye. "I don't want my stupid job back" "Well" My mother says, "I just worked my ass off getting it back for you, I don't think you realize how hard it was for me, how much coaxing I had to do. Is this what I get back? You can be so ungrateful sometimes Brooke Veronica" "Well I'm sorry" I say. What else do you want me to thank you for? Do you want me to thank you for giving birth to me?"

"My God Brooke" She says putting her hands to her temples, "Please don't do this" "Because I sure as hell am not going to thank you for that, as a matter a fact. You shouldn't have given birth to me" "Oh my god Brooke" My mother says again. "Enough with all the dramatics. You don't mean it. You're just sad" "Yeah" I say huffily. "I am sad. As you admitted yourself last night I'm Brock 2.0, are you planning on disowning me too?" I didn't mean to say it, it totally just slipped out. My mothers hand meets my face. I can not believe it. She slapped me the same way she had my brother. "Don't you ever speak to me like that" She says. Apparently she doesn't want to hear about Brock, even though that was the whole reason for our little luncheon. "Why don't you walk yourself home, it's not too far" "That's a little abusive don't you think?" I ask. "The way you just talked to me was abusive." My mother shoots back. "I'm sorry mom" I say. Once again I feel like crying but can't. "I'm sorry too sweetie" She says. We finish our lunch in complete silence.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Ted

Brooke makes no noise when she comes in, I swear I didn't even hear the door, so it kind of surprises me, when she walks or rather limps into the kitchen.

"Brooke hey" I say, "I, I didn't hear you come in, how was lunch with your mom?" I'm sure it sucked and everything, but I can't help asking. She looks very disturbed.

"Sweetie what happened?" I ask Brooke doesn't say anything.

"What's wrong babe?" I ask. Her eyes are full of emptiness, but I'm sure she is feeling just traumatized inside, I can tell by the way her whole body is shaking and beads of sweat are falling from her forehead. It is the day of our honeymoon all over again

"Are you all right?" I ask her. She places her hands to her temples.

"Brooke what's the matter with you?" I ask. "I need to sit down" She says. Her skin is so pale I can practically see her dark blue veins. What the hell has happened to her? I ask myself in complete panic. Why does she look like this.

"What's wrong?" I ask her a second time. "I need to sit down" She says again. She then folds right into my arms, no warning whatsoever.

"Brooke!" I shout.

"BROOKE!" As I pull her away from my body I can see that, she is not officially passed out, her eyes are still open, they are staring off to the distance and clearly not at me.

"Speak to me baby" I say jostling her. Brooke does not utter a single word. I realize then and there what I have to do. I have to call 911. Again! Wasn't it just yesterday that she was getting out of the hospital? Chills rush up and down my spine when I realize that her hospital visits are going to become almost a daily routine in our lives. I very gently sit her down on one of the kitchen chairs. I grab my phone when the ultimate stupidity of all stupidities happens. I forget the number for 911. I know I'm not stupid, I know I am just having a ginormous panic attack, yet I feel like the biggest idiot in the world.

Everyone knows the number they're supposed to dial for 911 god damnit, it says so in the number itself. There was a gag on some kids show, maybe Kids Say The Darndest Things, or maybe the 90's remake of The Little Rascals. Hell maybe it was both of those where a kid asked what the number for 911 was, I'm sure it was supposed to be just darling like everything else in that gaytarded excuse for a movie. It wasn't it was just plain stupid, and it sure as hell isn't darling now. It's just idiotic and embarrassing and not to mention very panic inducing. I keep reminding myself over and over again that I am not stupid but for some reason the panic that is seeping through my body has turned me into a giant knuckle head. It is like my brain has shut off.

Maybe I need to have a doctor look at me as well. I'm not sure if I'd say my memory has been restored, but automatically my fingers begin punching in the numbers 911. A paramedic answers right away, but I am so panicked I can not answer, so panicked I can't even say hello. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Brooke slump over her chair and fall to the floor. I think she has officially passed out now.

"BROOKE!" I yell loudly. I begin nudging her. She makes no response.

"BROOKE!" I shout a second time. I place my ear next to her chest, sure enough she is not breathing, nor is her heart beating.

"Hello" The paramedic says into the receiver.

"So sorry" I apologize (Snuh)

"my uh girl friend um needs you" I feel like a complete idiot for calling her my girlfriend. What the fuck was I thinking? Why did I say that if I know for a fact that she is my wife? We have been married for two months for God's sake.

"I mean not my girlfriend" I say

"What was I thinking? She's my wife. We just got married in November"

"We're on our way" He says,

"Hang in there" "Are you all right can you hear me" I ask her, the way I had learned on the resuscitation dummy back in 9th grade. And speaking of dummy's, I feel like a huge dummy for not remembering the next step to CPR.

First I forgot to number to 911, then I forgot all of the other steps to CPR, and not to mention the fact that I forgot that she was my wife. I had called her my girl friend. Maybe subconciously I said she was my girl friend because the possibility of her being my wife was as frightening as shit. If only she were someone else's problem. If only I didn't have to be the one to take care of her. I'll tell you one thing, If this pattern continues then I guess I'm already gearing up to be one hell of a shitty care taker.

Maybe she'll have to live in a nursing home or in a hospice. I just can't let my self think such terrible things. She's so young and beautiful, only icky old people go into hospice and nursing homes, like both my great grandparents did right before they died. I push the thought as far as possible from my head. Now all I can think about is the paramedics. Why haven't they arrived yet, what else could they possibly be busy with? I know it's selfish and that that Brooke and I aren't the only people in the world, but just the same, the paramedics can not get here soon enough. I continue jostling Brooke.

She is unconscious and everything, but she's never been more beautiful as she is lying on the floor with her fancy braided bun, that appears to be too tight. Wendy has always been an excellent hair stylists, Brooke had the most beautiful/ fancy hair styles of anyone at the prom, home coming or other high school events. I suddenly get so preoccupied in thought, that when there is a knock on the door it is shocking. "Who's here?" I ask my voice shaking. A group of maybe four official looking men and two official looking women enter the door. "It's okay" one of the men says, apparently sensing my discomfort

"It's just us, the paramedics" Once again I feel utterly stupid about forgetting that I had just called them, even though they had been literally all I could think about for the past couple of hours or minutes or whatever amount of time went by. I'm totally freaking out.

I can't honestly believe how many times today I have managed to make myself seem like the biggest idiot in the world. I never let myself get this out of control, well okay maybe I do, maybe that is why Brooke and I are no longer a good match. I think for maybe the 80 billionth time. What have I gotten myself into?

One of the paramedics literally peels her eyelid open and shines the light in. I think it's an invasion of personal space but I do not say anything. "What you got?" a second paramedic asks.

"Nothing" The first paramedic says, "There was nothing there, just a blank stare" "Hey" I say, "What's going on?" They completely ignore me.

"What's wrong with her?" I cry. Once again they go on ignoring me, they place her on a stretcher and carry outside to the ambulance" "I'm coming with you" I say. "Hop on in"

Once again there is a huge gap in my memory, like many of times I completely spaced out all that happened before Brooke was rushed to the hospital, I have no memory of what happened whilst riding in the ambulance. Now I am in the waiting room, like so many of times before. The doctor who I assume is Brooke's sits down next to me. "What's going on what happened?" I ask.

"Something I've actually never seen on the job, but have heard about in very few instances." I scoot closer to him. "Her body went into shock" He tells me, "You've never seen someone go into shock?" I ask, "Isn't that like one of the most common medical emergencies out there." "Maybe so" He says, "But not the kind of shock your wife has just experienced." "She has Lou Gehrig's Disease" I tell him, "Is that not a symptom" "We were able to get her talking once she was conscious, it sounds like she's had quite a lot to deal with. Anyone would go into emotional shock about that, but in the case of your wife, that emotional shock became physical shock."

"Does this have anything to do with her Lou Gehrig's Disease?" I ask, "It can happen with any person with a compramised immune system" He says, "As I said," It's very rare." It sounds almost plausible, but on the other hand I don't really know too much about medicine. "Can I see her?" I ask. "The nurse gave her a sedative, she's going to


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Brooke **

I awaken in the hospital bed once again, story of my life. I am in a complete state of panic. Last thing I remember was telling Ted I needed to sit down and then collapsing in his arms. The nurse let's herself in.

"My god how are you feeling?" She asks.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Your body went into shock" She tells me,

"We hooked you up to some vasopressors"

"Shock?" I ask. I know am in emotional shock and why shouldn't I be with everything that's happened in the last several hours? But physical shock, I didn't even know that's a symptom to ALS.

"Thank goodness you were wearing that medical bracelet that said you have Lou Gehrig's Disease."

I had forgotten all about the stupid medical bracelet I was given by the neurologist. I'll admit, I was a little bit confused at first about the neurologist giving me such nice jewelry or any jewelry at all for that matter. What was even more confusing was when he told me I had to wear it at all times in case of a medical emergency. The thing is, I never really got a look at that thing super closely until just now, and I realize that it's kind of stupid really. All it is, is a bracelet with a silver tag imprinted with my name on the front and with the name of my disease on the back. It's pretty okay really embarrassing going around wearing the bracelet, and it makes me feel like I am being labeled and judged. On the other hand however, people aren't going to know I have Lou Gehrig's Disease from just looking at me, not that they would pay super close to the bracelet either for that matter. But all of a sudden I am really self conscious about it.

"So what does going into shock have to do with Lou Gehrig's Disease?" I ask,

"Not much" The doctor says, "I do have a theory about what may have happened to you, I'd like for you to answer some questions, can you do that for me?"

"Sure" I say staring down at my bed covers.

"When were you diagnosed with the disease?" He asks

"Just yesterday, or no wait Christmas eve" He begins jotting a couple notes down.

"Well that must have been pretty upsetting for you"

"It should have been" I say, "But I just felt so numb, I didn't cry, I didn't get angry, I wasn't even scared, just nothing"

"Sounds like a text book case of shock" The doctor says, and just like that there's that word again shock. "The holiday seasons can always be quite stressful" He says,

"Did anything happen over the holidays you want to tell me about?" "I pretty much found out that I'm the replacement of my much older brother who my parents absolutely hate and disowned" Chills rush down my spine.

"That sounds painful" He says,

"How did you feel then?" He asks. "The same way I felt after getting diagnosed with ALS. I felt numb. I didn't shed a single tear" He jots down some more notes

"Anything else? Any other huge life changes" "I lost my job" I say, "And I suppose I got married" There is a long pause, as I try to piece things together. "To a guy I haven't seen since senior year of college." He nods slowly, "And just earlier today I got in a fight with my mom, and it got a little bit physical"

He shakes his head thoughtfully. "What happened to you is that you were going through so much stressful moments that sound like they would be way too much for anybody to handle, that your body just couldn't handle it. To answer you're question it does have a lot to do with you're Lou Gehrig's Disease in a very round about way, but on the other hand not all that round about at all. The reason why your body couldn't handle all that stress was because your immune system is weakened from the disease" I can feel my eyes go wide. I suddenly start breathing really fast. Short fast breaths. Hyperventilating

"Are you all right?" The doctor asks. I shake my head. "Can I get you a paper bag?" He asks.

"Please" I tell him. He hands one to me. I'll tell you breathing into a paper bag does not do the trick the way it does on TV.

"We're going to give you something for sleep" The doctor says, he then pages his nurse who shows her face instantly.

"I'd like you to take these" she says placing two pink pills in my hand. Valium again, I already recognize it from the last time I was given sedatives.

"Go ahead" The nurse coaxes me. I pop them into my mouth and let the nurse hold the cup of water to my mouth as I take large gulps, I somehow did not realize how thirsty I was.

"Atta girl" She says. "It will start working in 20 minutes" She says which I already know from my last hospital visit which was only two days ago. I realize that once again I want it to work the moment I take it. But it's not going to. "Here's another vassopressor as well" The doctor says handing me a small white capsule,

"It's supposed to help with shock" I pop it into my mouth and swallow it without even taking a drink any water. "Brooke what's the name of your neurologist?" The doctor asks me.

"Tim Taylor" I say tentatively. Tim's not a bad guy or anything, I'm just really not in the mood to see him again even though I know I will probably be seeing a lot more of him in the future. "I'm going to page him and see if he can come by and check on you tomorrow" "Great" I say staring at my pillow. He goes out in the hall for a while. A very short while. "Brooke" He says, "Tim will have a look at you tomorrow morning, now let's get some good rest. I shake your head.

"I'm not sleepy" I say in a weak somewhat childish voice.

"Oh you will be" He says giving my shoulder a quick squeeze. I count sheep for a while until they become rolls of toilet paper, that's when I know for sure the drug is taking affect.

Next thing I know I am asleep and dreaming. We are at the house of some random friends of Mac and Kelly, I think their names are Jimmy and Paula we met one time in real life very briefly, but you know dreams! I've had weirder. I have of course never been inside their house, but what my subconscious has made up is beyond creepy. They live in a one story house, with uncomfortable dark red walls, their living room is complete with creepy statues and sculptures, and stuffed animals (As in taxidermy not as in teddy bears all though they do have a couple of those that I know for a fact are stuffed with frozen corn kernels, how I know that? Well dreams) When Brandy and I were little we used to have these hideous kitty purses and when I dreamed about them every time I opened them I found frozen corn kernels in the zipper compartment which is probably why I know that's what the bears are filled with. There house is very cold. We are in the living room chatting about old times, because apparently in this dream we are very good friends. I suddenly realize a very strange sensation in my nasal cavity it feels very full and I don't mean in the typical stuffed up nose sort of way. I hold tightly under it to prevent it from dripping and do not take my hand off. Jimmy takes a quick minute to notice.

"Brooke You okay? You bleeding?" He asks.

"Here sweetie let me get you a kleenex" Paula offers. I feel something very chunky fall out my nose.

"Please hurry" I moan. The chunky stuff from my nose slips through my fingers, I can tell right away that this is not a typical nose bleed, not even in the slightest, nor is it a typical symptom to ALS unless of course it is.

"Here you are" Paula says handing me a box of kleenex. I remove my finger to see that what is coming out of my nose is not red but bright purple like purple cabbage maybe. I suddenly learn that it is purple cabbage, as a matter a fact it is purple coleslaw. It keeps rushing out of my nose and it feels like I am vomiting

"Oh my god you're coleslawing you okay?" Paula announces, I didn't even know coleslaw was a verb.

"I know what to do!" She says all of a sudden. She hands me a tissue and asks me to hold my head back.

"Ted will you get me a can of beer or soda or something?" Ted rushes into the kitchen.

"You want to hold your head back and hold your nose" Paula instructs, as if she's seen people "Coleslaw" on a daily basis, maybe she has. She sure seems to know a lot about it. Ted returns from the kitchen in a snap with a huge can of red bull, I really hope Paula doesn't expect me to drink that, I hope that's not where she's going with it. "Hold this behind your head" She instructs. I do as I am told.

"Atta girl" Paula says, I suddenly become very nauseated. "P'Paula?" I stammer. "What's wrong?" Paula asks. I quickly remove the red bull which has for some odd reason transformed into a huge can of guinness. I then let out a loud truck drivers belch the same way I did at our wedding when I choked on the cake.

"Uh oh" Paula says, "Uh oh! Jimmy get her a bucket, I think she's going to blow" Paula is such a fourth grader using terms like that. I remember all the cool kids using that as Euphemism for throwing up, so Paula is really out dated.

It is too late, I start throwing up before Jimmy places the bucket in front of me. Instead of throwing up purple coleslaw the way I had expected, I am throwing up bright sparkly neon purple slime. The kind that used to be so cool back in the 90's. It pours out of me like lava. Jimmy places the bucket in front of me.

"Oh my god she's stroking out" He announces, and I suddenly feel the left side of my mouth droop. Out of the corner of my eye I see Ted pulling out his Iphone, which seconds later becomes just a flip phone cell phone, which changes into a calculator and then for some odd reason into one of those pre packed pickles you can find at the gas station. He appears really panicked. "911!" He cries, "What's the number?"

Paula gives him a number that is not 911 which is not as much of a number as it is an ultra complicated algebraic equation.

"What was that?" Ted asks again.

"Banana bread" Paula says. "Dial the number banana bread" "Right" Ted says. I guess it makes perfect sense to him. Ever get the feeling that dreams make more sense to the other people in the dream then to the actual dreamer themselves. I sure as hell get that feeling and it couldn't be more clear then it is right now. Ted begins dialing the number for banana bread on his phone which is now not a pickle but a giant frog the size of a fetal pig. Why I am am so in tune with all of this, and how I'm able to see what's going on outside of the slime hitting the bucket is completely beyond me. I keep vomiting until I literally vomit my stomach. That's right, a big dark sparkly pink kidney shaped organ jumps up my throat, out of my mouth and into the bucket. I scream loudly as tears of agony roll down my cheeks. "Gross you okay?" Paula says I am unable to answer and all I can do is keep crying "Don't worry" Ted says, "Helps on the way"

The next thing I know someone is jostling me. I slowly open my eyes. "Good morning" The nurse on call says to me. "Dr. Taylor is here to see you" "Great" I moan. I stare at my clock, it reads 10:27 AM, I've been asleep for a really long time it turns out, which I suppose makes sense, because the dream did seem to go on for quite a while. Tim let's himself in. "Hey Brooke" He says holding out his hand. "How are you feeling, I heard you had quite the incident yesterday afternoon" It was only the afternoon when I got admitted? So basically I slept more then half an entire day away. No wonder my head feels even foggier then usual, I have heard that, that amount of sleep can really mess with a persons head, but I suppose the valium hasn't quite warn off either. "10:25 AM?" I ask staring at the clock, "Was I really asleep that long?" Tim nods

"You were pretty agitated so the nurses put you into a bit of a medically induced coma, it may take a while for the drugs to ware off. How are you feeling? You feeling okay?" I yawn widely. "Not so good" I say. "I was actually going to call you in for another appointment some time after the holiday season and have you come into my office, but since you're here let's just get the checkup over with in this room why don't we?" "Do we have to?" I moan. I am so exhausted right now, that the possibility of even getting out of the bed seems just horrendous. Tim gives me a small smile. "Would you rather wait until the medications wear off? He asks. "Yes" I say, "Kind of yes" Tim smiles smugly

"Which is it?" He asks, "Kind of or yes?"

"Yes" I say

"All right" He says, "I'll see you back in my office tomorrow at the same time"

"Okay" I say. "I'll tell the nurses and your husband you're ready to go" He says.

"Has he been here the whole time?" I ask, I feel really terrible about that. "Not the whole time" Tim said.

"He knew you were going to spend the night so he sent you an overnight bag, Other then that though he's been in the waiting room this entire time" "Really?" I ask blinking a couple of times. "He didn't go anywhere as far as I'm concerned" Tim says.

"I'll page your nurse right now"

"Thanks" I say staring off into space. The nurse shows her face very quickly, apparently she doesn't have any other patients for the day. She helps me into a new pair of cloths that Ted packed in my night bag, my nice cheetah skin patterned long sleeve button down top, and my super skinny black stretch pants which I assume are a couple sizes too big for me now, that I lost all the weight. I then let her help me into a wheelchair as she places my night bag on my lap" Just as I have expected, Ted is waiting for us. "Brooke oh my god. Are you all right?" He says throwing his arms around me. He kisses me and helps me out of my wheelchair. "She may be a little weak" The doctor reminds him. "I'm fine" I say. Ted scoops me up in his arms, the same way he's been doing lately. I swear, he's going to need to get me one of these chairs sooner or later, he can't go on carrying me everywhere. He sets me down on the bench outside. "Ted what's going on?" I ask. "I need to make a phone call" He says and hurries towards the building.

"Ted wait" I call after him,

"Stay out here" He tells me,

"It might take a while"

"Who are you calling?" I call after him, apparently he doesn't call me, and I guess who ever he is calling, he doesn't think he can say it in front of me?

"Ted?" I call after him again, he turns around,

"I left my cell phone at home" He says.

"Oh okay" I say. I listlessly sit on the bench staring blankly at nothing. An official looking young man maybe in his early 20's walks towards me.

"Brooke is that you?" He asks.

"Huh?" I ask.

"It's me Gary." He says. I try to rack my brain, but I honestly can't think of a single person I know named Gary. "Gary?" I ask. "You probably don't remember me" He says,

"But your boyfriend and his friends used give me shit back in the day. They called me Assjuice. You were always pretty okay though, you were always pretty quiet"

I now very briefly remember the guy, I really only briefly knew him for that matter. He was always pretty quiet as well, I do however remember exactly what he looked like, I guess I have a good memory for people's appearances. But when I look up and down at him, I discover that I wouldn't have recognized him in a million years. He has grown up a lot a shit ton, the scrawny freshman has filled out quite a lot, his face is no longer covered with acne and the baby fat on his face has disappeared. He is also I swear at least two inches taller. He is almost handsome in the most adorkable way ever. He's also done something different with his hair, it is gelled and slicked back.

"You okay?" He suddenly asks me over dramatically I might add (Overly excited.)

"What?" I ask. "Well you're at the hospital" He says and I can already tell that he is embarrassed as hell, his cheeks are bright red and he is ringing his hands a lot, apparently he is still socially inept as ever, but somethings never change. "I'm sorry" He says scratching the back of his head.

"Stupid question. It's my first day in EMT training, I guess I get kind of stupid when I'm nervous."

"Congratulations" I say wistfully.

"I guess I'm here an hour early" he says. He sits down next to me, and does something fairly surprising, he grabs on to my medical bracelet. "You're Lou Gehrig's Disease?" He asks, he clears his throat, "Er I mean, you have Lou Gehrig's Disease?" I pull away, "Oh my god Ass I mean Gary, don't do that" "I'm sorry" He says again. "I uh couldn't help myself, I just noticed a medical bracelet and I just got curious and a little bit excited" Poor excuse on so many levels, there really isn't ever a good excuse to just go and grab a woman's jewelry without any warning whatsoever, but I guess what can you expect from a person who used to go by Assjuice? How socially adept should he be? After all behind this new Gary persona, he is still Assjuice at heart. "It's something we learned about in CPR certification" He says scratching the back of his head. "To uh check people's jewelry. How long have you been so sick?" "Hey easy there 20 questions" I say sounding bitchier and more sarcastic than I have intended. "I'm sorry" He says again. I am dying for Ted to finish his phone call and get me the hell away from this insanity. "So you're married to Teddy now?" He asks. I guess it did say my last name was Sanders on the bracelet. "Easy 20 questions" I say again. "Oh kay, I get it" He says "You don't want to talk to me" "I'm sorry" I say, "I didn't mean it like that" "No I get it" He says. "I should probably get going" "Gary wait"

"I'm sorry Ted didn't invite you to our wedding, it was pretty last minute and it was only family and closest friends. "Hey, it's okay" He says, "I've kind of been trying to forget about my college days, and Teddy was never actually my friend" I nod wondering where the hell Ted is and who the hell he is talking to. "And you?" He asks, "You never said boo to me, not ever. So basically no! I was not expecting any kind of wedding invitations. I didn't get any invitations to Garf's wedding, or Scoonies wedding, or Whitney's wedding and to be honest if I ever get married you two probably won't be invited either. And that's how it is" That somehow brings tears to my eyes. "I gotta go" He says. "Good luck with everything" I bite down on my lip because I really feel like fucking crying.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Ted

Ever since Brooke was sent to the emergency room I couldn't stop thinking "I want my mommy" I just couldn't bring myself to call her because the thought of a 25 year old grown man wanting his mommy just seemed pathetic and wussy and also I didn't know how to tell her that her daughter in law had a life threatening disease. I'm pretty sure she was under the impression that were both doing fine and why shouldn't she believe it? Whenever she called I right up told her that we were both doing fine.

She didn't know how many times Brooke was in and out of the hospital. When she called to say merry Christmas yesterday what was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to say "Merry Christmas Brooke has Lou Gehrig's Disease?"

I couldn't and I didn't. I just couldn't bring myself to tell her that I was calling from the hospital. When she asked what we were doing I told her we were at home enjoying the holiday season. I really panicked when she asked how Brooke was doing and even worse, asked if she could talk to her. I told her she was busy, which was a complete lie, unless you call lying in your sick bed busy.

Right now however I need to talk to her. Like I said, I'm a vulnerable little boy who needs his mommy. It's like I had a bad dream and need to crawl into my mommy's bed (Boy does that ever sound gaytarded) I wish I could say it's just a bad dream, I wish my mom could stroke my back and say,

"It's just a bad dream Teddy everything will be okay" the way she did when I was about 3 years old and came in crying about the monster under my bed, but this is not a bad dream, and everything is not going to be okay and I am not 3 years old, I am 25. Therefore a grown up, and if being a grown up means having to face reality then growing up fucking sucks. Unfortunately, when the taxi drove me home to collect Brooke's stuff, I panicked and left my cell phone at home, which was a really stupid thing to do on so many levels. Even more unfortunately there is a bit of a line for the phone's at the front desk that is if you call one other person in front of me a line.

"Hurry up" I moan to the patient who is talking for hours on end about her daughters recently diagnosed Crohn's Disease, and dietary needs and all that fun stuff that nobody wants to hear about. "Hey!" The receptionist hisses. She then points to the sign that reads,

"Be courteous when other people are using the phone" I fold my arms tightly across my chest, while the woman talks on and on about disgusting digestive problems. It's really hard for me to concentrate on what I'm thinking about saying to my mom with all that fucking racket. Just when I think she's going to hang up she begins talking about her new years eve plans. Finally I can not take it anymore.

"Shut up!" I snap.

"Excuse me" The woman says to the person she is talking to on the phone,

"What the hell is your problem?" She snaps. I feel bad and everything, but for some reason I just keep going, it is as if I am on cruise control or auto pilot or something along those lines.

"No one wants to hear about your daughters shit problems. No one wants to hear about her fucking bowel movements, or her lack of bowel movements, or her special diet and especially not about her fucking bowel obstruction." I am being such a dick right now I wish I could just strangle myself, but for some reason I can't stop. "I'm sorry you're daughter has Crohn's Disease" I say"That really sucks, oh no wait!" I say, "No I don't. Because my wife has Lou Gehrig's Disease. So I hope you forgive me" The woman just stands there blinking her eyes. She puts the phone up to her face again.

"I got to go" She says. "All yours" She says looking like she's been slapped with a whip.

"I' I'm sorry" I stammer. "I didn't mean it. Crohn's Disease, shit that's rough"

"Just take the phone" She says. "I' I'm sorry about your wife." She then scatters away. My hand shakes as I start dialing my mom's number.

"Hello" She says answering right away. "Mom It's me Ted" I say, I suddenly burst into tears, I am crying so hard I cannon stop shaking.

"Ted?" My mother asks, "What's wrong?" Deep sobs rack my body. "Honey?" My mom asks. "Are you all right?"

"It's Brooke!" I manage to get out. I pause for a long dramatic moment "She's very sick. She has Lou Gehrig's Disease"

"Oh my god" My mother says. "Ted I'm so sorry. When did you find this out?" I can hear tears in my mother's voice.

"Christmas eve" I tell her and sob and sob to high heaven, I can hear my mom doing the exact same. "Oh my god Ted" My mother says still crying.

"Why didn't you tell me? I called you yesterday and you said you were doing well." "I know mom" I say

"I didn't know how Mom" I sobbed. "I didn't know how." I sob and sob and sob

"Why don't you and Brooke have dinner with us tonight?" She suggests.

"We'd really like to see you guys, and it sounds like you two really need me"

"Thanks mom"

"I'll make something extra special for dinner" She says, and I know that it's probably going to be some weird vegan thing. I have never followed in my parents footsteps with the whole vegan thing and am never going to, of course luckily for me they didn't start becoming vegan until I left for college.

"Thanks ma" I tell her. "I'll let Brooke know"

Brooke is sitting on the bench listlessly. "So sorry about the wait" I tell her. "My folks want to see you"

"You told them?" She asks there is a hit of betrayal in her voice although I am not sure why.

"C'mon" I say grabbing her by the arm and helping her walk back to the car. As per usual these days we don't say a word to each other in the car, which is unfortunate because it is a bit of a drive to my parents house. They live a couple of suburbs away from Las Angeles, kind of on the outskirts of the town. The silence is killing me, but what is there to say? I expect Brooke to be crying, but she once again is not, she sits next to me in the passenger seat like a wooden doll. Not even blinking.

"I'm going to put on some music" I say. No response. "Do you want the oldies station?" No response. Her face looks almost wooden. She eventually turns her head to face out the window.

It is almost a relief in a strange way, it's the most human I've seen her in a while. We pull up in front of a tiny brick house. The house I grew up in, which I swear was barley big enough to hold three people. It is nothing like Brooke's white red doored mansion (Well okay maybe not mansion) But with at least three of four stories. My parents house is one story and let's just say very claustrophobic. The saddest part of the whole thing is that my parents are just as wealthy as Brooke's folks. They could have very well bought a four story mansion like the Shy's but instead they chose/choose to live like white trash (Well okay maybe a couple steps above white trash to be fair) They are definitely not in the same ball park as Kim and Brock who live in a trailer park, or even Scoonie who's family did not grow up in a trailer park, but a dumpy student apartment. Unlike myself Scoonie had to work his way into college, only to become a huge partier and never graduate. But the way my parents live could very well almost count as white trash. Anyway all the money they earn is used to put in their stupid "Rainy day" Fund (Yes my parents are that cheeseball)

My Mom is waiting for us on the brick steps outside the house. She stands up as soon as we get out of the car. She is a very tiny woman, I know for a fact that I am at least a foot and two inches taller then her. She is a real peanut of a woman. My mom throws her arms around Brooke. She does not throw her arms around me of course, but whatever, everyone's more upset about Brooke, and why shouldn't they be, she's the one with the disease, not me, but still it wouldn't hurt for some people to think about how I must feel being Brooke's husband. "

Brooke sweetie I'm so sorry. Are you doing all right honey?" Brooke shakes her head. "I'm so sorry I know how it is"

"Wait you do?" I ask. How could she possibly know what it feels like to have Lou Gehrig's Disease

"Well no" She half whispers to me, "But I know that's what I'm supposed to say right?"

"Wrong" I spout out. "You don't have Lou Gehrig's Disease" My mother suddenly looks embarrassed.

"I'm sorry Brooke" She apologizes, "I don't really know how it is but I am very sorry you're sick." Brooke stares down at the ground and shuffle's her feet. Clearly she has nothing to say.

"C'mon in" She says, "Dinner's on the stove. I made something extra special" I stare at my watch.

"Mom it's only 4:00"

"Oh Pish posh" My mom says. "It's 6:00 somewhere"

I roll my eyes unable to believe how damn square my mother is. I swear she used to be cool at one point, in a sorority just like Brooke. It used to be that "It's 6:00 somewhere in the world" was a euphemism for "let's get so wasted we won't know what's hit us" I worry for a half a second that, Brooke and I are going to become my parents only to realize that, that would be one of the better case scenario's. I have somewhat of an idea of what will actually become of us. I will have to play the roll of care taker and have no time on my hands, I will be angry and hateful all the time. We may even get a divorce. And she may have to live in a nursing home. Just the thought of that sends chills down my spine. I know for a fact that by the time Brooke and I get to be my parent's age, it will no longer be Brooke and I. Brooke will be long gone. I do not know too much about Lou Gehrig's Disease, most of my knowledge is based on information I got off of Google but I do know the life expectancy is not that long. Stephan Hawking is 75 years old, but I'm pretty sure the only reason he is still alive is because of science. I know very little about him. All I know is he's one of the smartest men alive and that he probably discovered or maybe even invented some way to keep himself alive. "C'mon in let's eat" my mom says I can't wait to see what kind of n concoction my mom has come up with, and I mean that in the most sarcastic way. I have stopped looking forward to my mother's cooking a long time ago.

My dad is quietly sitting on the couch reading the news paper.

"Ted your son and daughter in law are here" my mom says. My father in a very reserved manner sets his paper down. He is a very reserved man, at least he is now, when he was my age he was quite a lot like me, after all he is my namesake Robert Theodore Sanders. Of course like him I completely dropped the Robert part of my name, I was never Rob, or Robby or Bob or Bobby or anything like that. There was really no point to naming me Robert, my middle name was the name that mattered. I was never called Theodore I was always Ted or Teddy. As a matter a fact none of my friends know that I am a Robert. It is like my deep dark secret. The only time's I ever got called Robert were when I was in trouble which was unfortunately a lot. Also very fortunately I never got in trouble in front of my friends, which is quite unusual if you ask me. My father was also never a Robert or any other variation of that name. He was also Ted/Teddy and he was also like me in that he was dumb partier. I can not tell you what happened. I guess just with age my parents grew to be kind of for lack of a better word lame. But at least they are both alive and healthy which is more then I can say about Brooke and I when we reach our late adulthood. "Good to see you" He says.

"How are you holding up Brooke?" He asks. Brooke stares at my father but she does not speak.

"I think she's going through a great deal of shock Ted" Deb tells my father. The smells from the kitchen are a bit overwhelming. I'll admit it, I am terrified to find out what she is making.

"Dinner's on the stove" She says. As I follow her into the kitchen, I see a bit pot. I look into it and find some kind of soup with tiny pumpkins. I wrinkle my nose. "Fuck the actual what?" I ask.

"Hey" My father says evenly. "That's no way to talk to your mother now is it?"

"Sorry" I say,

"This is really weird Deb" My father says, "What is this"

"I call it Pumpkin Surprise" She says. "I found the recipe at our local food co op"

"Yeah surprise" I say managing a tiny smirk. It is no surprise whatsoever that there are pumpkins floating around the murky grayish broth. I don't want to come out sounding like a dick but I can't help myself. "How in the world are you supposed to eat that stuff?" I ask. My mother looks embarrassed. "Just put it your mouth and eat it" My father says. Then kind of smirks at his own for lack of a better word joke. My mother continues to look embarrassed as if she hasn't really thought about it. Apparently she hasn't considered it a choking hazard. Apparently she doesn't remember or else wasn't thinking about the whole wedding cake incident. "It has whole pumpkins in it for god's sake. "These are different" My mom explains, "These are minerature pumpkins, I didn't have to carve them or remove the seeds or anything"

I stare down at my bowl of soup as we all sit down at the table. Literally there is nothing to the soup besides pumpkins. Orange pumpkins and white pumpkins and red pumpkins. Who's ever heard of red pumpkins? My mother is the first to take a bite of her creation.

"Why it's delicious" She says taking a bite of the broth. It looks like it would taste like dirt. I reluctantly take a bite and have no idea what she's raving about, it doesn't taste like dirt but it also doesn't have any flavor. It needs some salt or some pepper or just some kind of spice. It basically just tastes like hot tap water from the faucet led not included, unless of course it is. The four of us sit around the table silently. Brooke hasn't touched her soup or even her silverware. Her arms are placed soldier style to her hips. Her chair isn't even pushed in far enough to the table.

"Brooke sweetie" My mother says, "Scoot in will you? Make yourself comfortable. Brooke stares into her lap. She suddenly starts shaking as if she are freezing cold. Her teeth begin chattering like crazy.

"You all right Brooke?" My dad asks. "You cold?" I wonder how on earth she could possibly be cold, it is winter and everything, but we live in California, it hardly ever get's cold in California, at least not in our part of California, today it is about 80 degrees out, and our house doesn't have an air conditioner, because my parents just don't believe in that kind of thing but on the other hand Brooke is skin and bones as a result of her illness. Maybe she get's cold more easily. "I'll turn the heat on" My mother says.

"Would you like the heat on?" Although my parents are against the whole air conditioning thing, they have no problem whatsoever with having a ventilated heater. Brooke gives my mother no response, but my mother turns the heat on anyway, which no one else at this table asked for, we're probably all going to die of heat stroke. Brooke suddenly let's out a loud singular sob, then another followed by a bunch more. I think I can guess what is happening, she is having a panic attack/nervous break down. She keeps sobbing while at the same time struggles to breathe. It is really disconcerting because it seemed just so unprovoked, aside from my mother turning the heat on, nothing really has happened during this family dinner. She can't possibly be crying because my mom turned the heat on, unless of course she is.

"Brooke sweetie?" My mother asks. "Are you all right honey?" Brooke continues to sob and hyperventilate. "What's the matter sweetie?" My mom asks. Brooke does not answer. Her hyperventilating sobs dissolve into uncontrollable normal sobs. Really, really loud ones. I hadn't seen her cry since, god damnit I can't even remember anymore. My mother touches her gently on the arm. "Would you like me to run you a hot bath?" She asks. I for one don't think that sounds like a good idea, she may drown. "I don't think so" I say, "We don't want her to drown. Someone's got to watch her" "I'll watch her" My mother says. "Would you like that Brooke?"

"Yes!" Brooke says through tears. I gotta hand it to my parents, despite being so stingy my parents do own a really nice bath tub big, tall, deep rectangular and ivory complete with jets and fancy bath accessories, quite a bit nicer than the bath tub Brooke and I have at our house. As soon as my mother helps Brooke to the bathroom and draws her a warm bath, I rush to turn the heat off, I would rather not die of heat stroke while visiting my parents. Brooke does not let up with her crying, she is sobbing very loudly along with the sound of running water. It may even be safe to say, it is echoing. Things always echoed like that from my parents bath tub, I guess maybe their is just something about the bath tub its self.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Brooke**

I let Deb undress me like I am about .0 years old, if that even is a number/age.

"It's okay" Deb coaxes. She sets down a bath mat and helps me sit down, all of this is just making me feel like crying all the more. She turns on the hot water which feels nice.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" She asks. Suddenly words I have not expected to roll off my tongue roll off my tongue.

"I have Lou Gehrig's Disease!" I sob as if I am just coming to realize that and maybe part of that is true, I am not just coming to realize that I have it, I've known for three solid days now but I suppose it is finally starting to hit me. The reality has just now hit me over the head like a huge pile of bricks. "I have Lou Gehrig's Disease!" I say again this time even louder. A say it a third time only this time I scream it, I'm sure Ted's heard it and thinks I'm pretty darn slow, but I really don't care what he thinks right now. I then dissolve into yet even more tears. Deb puts her arms around me.

"It's all right" She says, "Just let it all out. Cry it out" I sob loudly as soon as I believe I have cried it all out.

"That's not even the half of it" I tell her. "My own mother is ashamed of me" "She said that to you?" Deb asks. "She didn't have to say it" I say bitterly. "She implied it. I told her I was sick and that I lost my job, and guess which one she gave more of a flying fuck about?"

"Oh Brooke I'm so sorry" Deb says, "I don't know your mom super well, but I'm sure she really is upset that you're sick. Everyone grieve's differently. You're mom's always struck me as a very rough around the edges type of woman. But not necessarily mean" "She's ashamed of me" I spout out again letting each of the bitter syllables fall from my tongue.

"And then in the midst of everything else, my sister Brandy had to go and spring it on me that we had a brother" Deb looks at me thoughtfully but doesn't say much of anything. "The son my father disowned who wasn't even Wendy's" Deb doesn't say anything just nods her head thoughtfully and holds on gently to my shoulder. "Would you like some more bubbles?" She offers. I worry she either hasn't heard me, or she just doesn't want to get into it with me.

"No, no thanks" I say. Deb then starts undoing the hair style that my mother has worked so hard on, but I don't care how much time and effort she put into it. I hate my mom. I really really hate her. Even though Deb is not saying anything I keep going anyway, I can't help it.

"He was the first pancake" I say.

"First pancake?" Deb asks as if she cannot fathom what breakfast food possibly has to do with this.

"Yes" I sob, "Brock was the first born. The kid my parents really did a bad job with. The kid they hated."

"Brock and Brooke" Deb says,

"That's so cute"

"CUTE?" I shriek as tears run down my cheeks. "My parents did not do that to be cute. After they disowned him they had me. Clearly I was their replacement. "I'm so sorry" Deb says turning off the tap.

"I really didn't know. That's awful" She then hugs me" I start crying even harder. I just can't help it, Deb is like the mother I've never had. She's not the most dynamic person ever, and but she definitely knows how to parent unlike my mother. She knows how to listen to people and Wendy does not. I bawl even harder because I wish she was my mother and it really sucks that you can't chose your parents because I would totally chose Deb over Wendy and if he was my mother then that would make Ted and I brother and sister and that would be really messed up. I let her help me out of the bath and gently brush my hair, unlike my mother who practically yanked my hair out she was so hard on it.

"Would you like a cup of vegan hot chocolate?" I nod. "Yeah I'd like that" Even if it is vegan, it sounds nice and simple unlike my mother's super extravagant breve's which I know all to well that she only made for me as a way to win my respect back. Deb is so real it's refreshing. She helps me into a bathrobe and I follow her to the kitchen. Ted and his father are in the kitchen doing the dishes.

"What was going on?" He asks me, but instead Deb answers.

"I think she's just finally come out of all that shock" She says, gently tapping my hand.

"I was going to make a couple mugs of hot chocolate" She says, "Would either of you like a cup?" She asks. "No" Ted says adamantly. He sure is bitter about his mother's cooking, but to be completely fair the soup she made was basically a disaster. I expect the the hot chocolate to be not all that and a bag of chips, but when Deb hands it to me, and I take one sip I find that it is actually amazingly to die for. I had no idea vegan food could taste so delicious, but her hot chocolate may be the very food of the gods. It is so rich and creamy and has a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg.

"How do you like it?" Deb asks, and once again I burst into tears and all because I am jealous of Ted's family and not to mention Ted's life in general which would be very silly of me not to be jealous when Ted does not have Lou Gehrig's Disease. I know Ted must be really jealous of me too, I mean I live the charmed high life and he lives in the suburb's with a very frugal stingy family, but at least they are nice decent people. Deb looks guilty.

"What happened did you burn your tongue?" She asks. I shake my head, I did a little bit, but that sure as hell isn't why I'm crying, I am a 20 something after all and 20 somethings do not cry about burning their tongues. I love Deb to death and everything but wow was that ever a stupid thing to say. "Do you not like it?" She asks. "No I like it" I say, I can not stop the tears from falling into the glass. "It's the best thing I've ever tasted" I sob. "Then what's wrong?" My mother in law asks me. I begin sobbing again. "Everything" I say which pretty much sums everything up. "Do you want to stay the night?" Deb asks as if she thinks that's going to solve everything. "I guess" I say. "We have a beautiful guest room" She says, "I do not remember any guest room" Ted says. "We actually got a new bed installed into our computer room just in case we have guests. "I see" Ted says. "We should be getting home" Ted says, "But thanks for the offer" "You are both welcome to stay" She says, "Mi Casa es Su Casa after all"

"Fine" Ted says, I really don't see why it is he wants us to go home. He probably just doesn't want to be at his parents house any longer, he's probably going insane even thinking about staying another minute with his parents. I can't say I blame him for being claustrophobic, he's always been more of a big house kind of guy, I'm sure he was psyched to start college and get out of their tiny make shift. "You guys may both sleep in the guest room" Deb says.

The bed is incredibly uncomfortable, and I wish I hadn't excepted Deb's invitation to spend the night. It feels scratchy hard and cold. There is a wool blanket, I am normally not so sensitive to wool, but right now it is just infuriating. I remember what Tim had said about Lou Gehrig's disease and hypersensitivity. He sure as hell knows what he is talking about. I feel that hot sharp knife feeling rush through my feet and up my spinal cord. I toss and turn as a way to relieve the horrible pain only to find that the tossing and turning is causing immense dizziness, yet I can't stop tossing and turning because my body feels itchy on the inside and out. Ted turns around.

"You all right babe?" He asks.

"Yeah I'm fine" I lie. "My mom can give you something for sleep if you'd like"

"Sure" I say, "I'd like that" I shiver and shake uncontrollably.

"While you're at it can you get me another blanket? A Down comforter"

"Are you kidding me?" Ted asks, he does not sound angry but he does sound annoyed. "It's like a sauna in here" I lay down in fetal position, as my teeth chatter. "All right" He says sounding more then just a tiny bit annoyed with me. He rummages through the closet. There is a knock on the door followed by Deb's voice.

"Are you two okay?" She asks,

"Sorry" Ted says, "I'm just trying to find an extra blanket for her, I don't understand her it's like a sauna in here" Deb see's that I am shivering uncontrollably,

"I'll get her the electric blanket" She says,

"That should do her some good" "You have got to be kidding me" Ted says irritibly of course.

"She needs it" Deb says, "If you don't like it you can either sleep on the couch or you could always sleep in your old bedroom."

"Oh all right" Ted says all down trodden. "Also can you give her a sleeping pill?" "Yes sure" Deb says. "What do you have?" I ask, "We have homeopathic sleeping drugs." Deb says. Of course she does.

"Is that all?" I ask.

"Yup" Deb says, "Ted and I don't necessarily believe in prescription sleeping pills, "I swear these are supposed to work wonders. "It's okay" Ted says, "She can have one of my Mogodon The truth of the matter is, I got the pills especially for Brooke although I could totally use one right now was well." Ted pulls out his pill bottle, "Here you are Brooke" He says, "2 for you and two for me. I pop the two pills into my mouth. He keeps the perscription bottle right next to my bed side. "All yours" He says. The bottle says take as needed there are about 200 pills in the bottle. They are quite the interesting looking pills, they are pink like valium but instead of being round they are shaped like daimonds. I let myself drift into a dreamless sleep which might be the best kind of sleep at this moment, at least I am not dreaming that cole slaw is coming out of my nose. Deb makes us a fabulous breakfast of buckwheat pancakes with honey and some weird kind of tofu bacon. It looks beautiful but I can not eat. I am too depressed to eat, and aside from that I am not able to swallow. They do smell amazing though, there is just such a great aromatic scent and it is somehow making my stomach hurt, maybe because I am hungry or at least that's what my body is probably trying to tell me. Physically I feel like I could just gag as soon as the food reaches my mouth. "Not hungry Brooke?" Ted Sr asks me. "Nope" I say staring down at my plate, I try a couple sips of ruby red juice when it get's stuck between what were those scientific terms Tim used? Tharynx and Epiglottis maybe? He definitely used some of those words when he was checking my swallowing reflex's. I didn't realize that something like that would happen ruby red grape fruit juice or any liquid for that matter, I thought drinking had more to do with the sucking reflexes then the swallowing reflexes, but I guess that maybe I was a bit wrong. What's weird is that I had no trouble swallowing last night when I was given those sleeping pills to swallow down with water, nor did it happen when I was drinking the hot chocolate. So okay maybe a am lot wrong about the whole reflex thing. I find that out when I gag and vomit ruby red juice all over the floor. "You all right?" Ted Sr asks me. I then start up in tears again. "Oh my god" I cry, "I'm getting worse."

After spending the night at Ted and Deb's house, I break into a severe clinical depression. I have been pretty depressed before but let's just say it's gotten a whole lot worse. As a matter a fact It's gotten so bad that I don't even want to leave the house anymore, I am sitting on the couch watching an all day TV marathon of Jim Henson's production of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Franchise. Of course I am not really tuned in, I of course thinking of other things. This is about my 6th day straight of sitting around in my PJ's doing nothing but lay on the couch watching whatever is on which I guess today is an all day marathon of 80's Ninja Turtle movies.

Ted has been really nice about it for the most part, but today it just seems like he's really had it. "You're going to leave the house today" He tells me. "I don't think so no" I say. "C'mon Brooke" He says, "You've been sitting on that same couch moping everyday, it's time you get out and do something. You could really use the fresh air I'm sure we both can agree on that" I fold my arms tightly across my chest and shake my head. I have no idea what he is getting at, not a single clue. "What do you mean I'm going to leave the house?" I ask because I can not imagine what he could possibly be referring to. It seems like he has some serious plans. "I found a support group on line for people with ALS. It took me long enough to find" I fold my arms even tightly to my chest, that sounds like the last thing in the world I need. Getting exposed to one of the ultra sappy support groups. "No" I whine, "I don't want to" "C'mon Brooke" He begs, "It could be really good for you" I know for a fact that the only reason he looked into the whole thing was because he wanted me temporarily out of the house. "When does it start?" I ask grudgingly. "Actually it starts today" He tells me. And how convenient can you get? "What time?" I ask sighing. "In about an hour" He tells me. I want to tell him that it is probably just a scam. There is probably no such support group at all. "You're making that up" I say apathetically. He then shows me what it says on his lap top. "Great" I moan as I read down the pages, "Do I really have to do this" "I think it will help you a lot" Ted says, "And also it doesn't cost a thing," I roll my eyes and lay back down on my side. "What else are you going to do? Watch Sesame Street all day?" "It's not Sesame Street, It's the ninja turtles" I say irritably. "Well what ever" Ted says turning off the television. "You don't have anything else planned for today so why not?" That is true. It is so true, I do have my job but I refuse to go back because Fuck Candy and fuck my mom. "Wouldn't that be a great opportunity for you to meet other people in the area with Lou Gehrig's Disease?" Now that I think about it, wanting to meet other people with my disease has never even crossed my mind, but now I'm almost a tiny bit curious. "Yeah maybe" I say. "Where is it?" "It's at the Lutheran Church" He tells me. "I'll drive you, it says online that the group meets every Monday, Wednesday and Friday" I suppose today is monday, and I'm sure it will be very sappy seeing it is at a church and all that. "Brooke" He says looking me in the eye. "Do it this one time for me okay? If you decide you really really hate it then you never have to go back okay?" "Why does this mean so much to you anyway?" I ask. "Because Brooke" He says, "You're miserable" I sigh heavily. "Oh all right" I finally say.

There are only three of us. Technically four of us, since one of us has an aid with her. So far I am the least disabled of the group. It scares me because as I see it, I am staring at what may be myself in a couple years straight in the face. An older looking woman maybe who is in her late 60's or early 70's who appears to have a cane to help her get around, She sits with her back against a chair. She already appears very friendly and enthuesiastic. I figure she must have gotten diagnosed more recently hence the cane and not a wheelchair. It saddens me because she looks like she is way too young to be walking with a cane. Canes are what I think of when I think of little old men. The other person here is an african american woman about my age who is so severely disabled she is confined to a wheelchair. She is engrossed in the book Atlas Shrugged. I almost want to scream the words "Get me out of here" When a sex god walks into the room. 'What could he possibly be doing here?' I wonder to myself. He looks very healthy and normal. I can not stop looking at him. I know I'm married and everything, but I feel like I've just died and gone to heaven (Corny and Cliche yes I know want to make something of it?) The African American girl just rolls her eyes so apparently I don't have any competition, and obviously that older woman can't possibly have the hots for him unless of course she does. He suddenly talks to me. And I clam up. I fucking freeze. He waves his hand in my face.

"You okay?" He asks. "Anybody home?" "Wh'what?" I ask my voice coming out squeakier then I have intended. "I asked if I could sit there" "Sure" I say nervously. This is bad, this is so bad. So very very bad. The fact that I am falling in love with this guy is enough of a reason for me to never want to set foot in this support group again.

"Hey Sorry I'm late" Another 20 something girl says, I can tell right away that she is one of them hipsters, she also appears extremely normal, makes me wonder if she even has Lou Gehrig's Disease at all or if she is just someone who drops into support groups to be ironic. "No you're not late at all" The older woman says and laughs. "Why don't we all go around the circle and introduce ourselves?" She goes first. "My name is Adrian Hall" She says, "I'm not going to tell you my age because age doesn't matter to me it's just a number after all. I was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease three years ago. Some of you might not know this but I am actually the founder of this support group and I think so far we've got a pretty okay turn out. Not great but okay" "Hi Adrian" We all say together that corny way you are supposed to at these support groups. "Who would like to go next?" She asks. The black girl who is sitting next to me raises her hand. "My name is Brooke Delaney" She says her accent is very thick maybe she is from Africa. It is really odd that she has the same first name as me, because not everyone named Brooke has ALS and not everyone with ALS are named Brooke, yet here the two of us are, in the same city in the same support group sitting right next to each other. "Hi Brooke" Everyone says to the black girl. "I'd like to say that I am very surprised and also very disappointed with the size of this group. This seriously can't be everyone living in Las Angeles with ALS" "Where did you hear about us Brooke?" Adrian asks. "I've been trying to find one of these support groups for years and years, I've had ALS since freshman year of college and I had to go through so many years of suffering and no one knew what I was going through and nobody I knew had my disease." Her disease I think bitterly it is not just her disease.

"I just can't believe that their are only five of us in this support group. No way this is like a .0007% of people with ALS living in Las Angeles, there should be a lot more." I don't know where she's getting that percentage from, but she seems pretty darn sure of herself. "There may be more people" Adrian says, "But this is a very new support group" Brooke Delaney continues crying "And it looks like pardon my French the worst turn out ever" pardon her French? Why should anyone pardon her French if she's not even going to swear? Loser. The hipster girl rolls her eyes and blows a huge pink bubble. "It may get bigger" Adrien says, "For now we're just going to need to be patient. Now let's continue on with the introductions why don't we? Does anyone else have anything to say" The hipster girl holds up her hand whilst blowing a bubble and rolling her eyes. "My name is Dyana Koon and I am 21 years old" She says, "I was diagnosed a couple of years ago with a very mild case of Lou Gehrig's Disease, like the mildest case ever if you saw me in a crowd you'd never know I had it. That's why it's not fair that I have been forced into this god damn support group. I'll tell you something. The only reason I'm going to this stupid support group is because my stupid parents made me go. They said it would make me happier. Less what was the word they used? Emo" She rolls her eyes and blows another huge pepto bismol colored bubble. "Let's here from the young man on my right" Adrien suggests, giving sex god quick squeeze of the knee. Sex god does not appear to like it too much. "Hello Everyone" He speaks in a polite ethusiatstic manor.

"My name is Peyton Kline, I just got diagnosed a couple of weeks ago with stage 1 ALS" I didn't know that they put the disease in stages the way they do, but I do remember being in stage 1 of ALS, unless of course I am still in it. I now start to concentrate on the sex god himself. "Peyton" I have never heard such a name like that in my life, I wonder if it is any coincidence at all that the name rhymes directly with Satan, he's such a good guy, but my interest in him, my lust in him that is Satan's doings right there. I can hardly pay attention to what he is saying, because I can't get my eyes off of that beautiful figure which stands amongst us. Tears trickle down his cheeks, which is really no surprise at all seeing he is in a support group for people with ALS and that is really depressing. It also doesn't surprise me at all that he is such a hot cryer, since he is such a hot guy in general. But I swear I have never seen such a great looking cryer in my life. Ted is not by any means a hot cryer as a matter a fact he is a down right hideous cryer. Peyton wipes his eyes and apologizes, I quickly learn that he was talking about his boxing career, which he has on top of his modeling career. The reason he is crying is because he has just recently been told that his boxing career is all over. Poor guy.

"It's okay to cry" Adrien says, "As a matter a fact, why don't we all take a couple of minutes to cry" It's just like one of them crappy support groups you hear about on the media. "I so totally doubt you're going to make me cry" Diana says. "We'll just have to wait and see" Andrea said, "Let's have a moment of silence to think about stuff" That is another thing I have heard about with support groups, Ted went through the same thing during an occasional AA meeting which he really never went through with, but I think his alcohol habit is pretty much a thing of the past, all though I do wonder, right now he has such perfect reason to be so upset. I'm almost worried about leaving him alone with all the alcohol after the whole Vychtouriah incident and all that. So now when I look around I do notice that everyone here is crying, there is not a single dry eye in the room, well all right so maybe that's a complete lie. There is one pair of dry eyes and that pair of dry eyes belongs to me. I am depressed and everything, but I guess I'm just all cried out now. Amongst everyone in this room who prove themselves to have no trouble what soever crying it all out. Me? Not a single tear, I just feel frozen and numb as if the shock I had been experience has returned to show it's hideous face. Emo Dyana pokes me, "Hey you all right girl?" She asks me her voice full of tears.

"Huh?" I ask, "You just really seem to be somewhere else right now, and this might sound really whack, but the other reason I'm asking is because you're not crying" She tells me. "Um yeah" "I'm so sorry" Adrien says wiping her tears, and going back to her normal mode, "I guess we got a little bit carried away" Suddenly just like that everyone is dry eyed. I don't really understand it at all.

"We still have one more person" She says and I know that that one person is me. I stare helplessly. "Me?" I ask, even though obviously she means me, who else could she possibly mean? Everyone else has stepped up and poured their hearts out already. Four pair of eyes are staring at me. I know they all want me to speak but my mind feels completely numb. I am terrified to talk in front of all these people. It seems like ever since I got sick I've become timid and afraid, before I got sick four other people in the room would have never by any means been too many people. I was a god damn sorority girl for god's sake, I was all about partying. I was not however by any stretch of the imagination what you'd call an extraverted person, even though I was into partying, I only said few words to people. It wasn't so much that I was afraid of people, it was more that I thought I was better than other people. And why shouldn't I have thought that? My parents always treated me like I was better than other people, so why shouldn't I have believed it. Yup that's right! I am a snob. But this time it's different, I do not think I am better then any of these people for once I feel inferior to everyone instead of superior. I don't know why I feel inferior a lot of these people have it way worse then I do. I don't even know why I feel so judged, after all everyone here has the same disease as me. Some people (Namely Brooke Delaney) Have it way worse then me so she shouldn't be one to judge. Who am I kidding. Brooke Delaney is already the most judgmental person I've ever met. She continues to look at me with that horrible judgmental face of hers. And then there's Peyton. He's a nice guy and everything, but he's so ridiculously hot, I probably won't be able to string together an accurate sentence with him in the room. And Dyana? She's just a bitch. Plainly and simply. Adrien is the only one here who is legitimately not judgmental. In the old days, four people would have been by no means whatsoever a problem for me. But now I am terrified of having to talk in front of four people in a tiny little room which is only getting tinier by the second. I realize I am unable to breath. I try to take in a deep breath, but i just can't get any air in my lungs.

The room suddenly feels fuzzy like so many times before, and before I know it, it is spinning around. I place my hands to my temples. The people's voices start to all sound the same. It takes me a while to realize that Adrian is trying to talk to me. "W'what?" I ask. "Would you like to introduce your self?" Adrian asks. My sweater suddenly feels really itchy. I try another deep breath. "Are you all right?" Adrian asks.

"Yeah" I lie "I'm fine" "Okay then" Adrian says, "We'd all like to hear from you then" I freeze. Once again I freeze. Brooke Delaney looks more irritated by the second. I am really trying to straighten out my head, but it seems down right impossible. I just sit there frozen. "God damnit" Brooke Delaney finally says. "Say something already, I don't think you understand this, but we have a lot of stuff to go over" It irritates me that she thinks she is in charge, when Adrian was the one who founded the support group. I helplessly look to Adrian. "It's okay if you don't want to speak" She says to me, "I realize that you are feeling private about this and I can't say I blame you. I was the same way when I first got sick. It's a hard thing to talk about" I feel my face becoming flushed and hot. "No it's okay" I say. "I'll talk." I stand up, because that's what all of us more able bodied people have been doing. I clear my throat. "

I'm B'Brooke Sanders" I say, my voice coming out awkwardly silent. "Nice to hear from you Brooke Sanders" Adrian says, "Do you have anything else to say Brooke Sanders?" I am now beginning to think Adrian is just as bad as all the others here. She's really putting me on the spot. Brooke Delaney looks at me disapprovingly. As if she thinks I have stollen both her name and her disease. And why shouldn't she think that? She's 5 entire years older then me Therefore she's been Brooke for longer than I have and she's had Lou Gehrig's disease for longer than I have. Who am I to try to read her mind. I'm no telepath. "Brooke?" Adrian says, "Is that all?" Adrian asks. "You don't have anything else you want to say?" I shake my head and sit down. Brooke Delaney very clumsily raises her hand.

"I have something to say" She says, "What's that?" Adrian asks. "I know exactly what kind of person she is. She's one of them hot blonde chicks who thinks she's better than everyone else and doesn't have a single thought of her own in that bubble brain of hers" I really wish I could defend my self but the feelings of extreme shyness are preventing me from doing so. Aside from that, there is nothing for me to defend. She is right. She's really got me pegged down. I am stuck up, as Assjuice has pointed out, I never gave people the time of the day if they asked for it. He was right, and so was Brooke Delaney I never felt the need to bother with people unless I really had to for some reason, and even then I would use the fewest words possible. I have always been very aloof, almost the walking stereotype the epitome of a "Cool" kid. I hate how right Brooke Delaney is, she may somehow know me better than I know myself. As for the part about me not having a single thought of my own? She is right about that too. Whitney was always the mastermind and I was always her meat puppet I was the Passive Beta to her Domineering Alpha. As far as I know my job in our clique was to just stand there and look pretty, while Whitney handled all the dirty work, every cruel activity we participated in was Whitney's doing. I just sat back like a passive nobody. With me as the passive Beta and Whitney as the domineering Alpha, Brittany was basically the wild card. She was just Brittany. She didn't have a title in the popular crowd and Whitney was never as hard on her as she was on me. While I could never really catch a break, Brittany always could. No one counted on her to be stuck up or to be bossy and cruel. I went from elemementry school through college as Whitney's shadow, her non existent shadow. Brook Delaney senses my discomfort apparently.

"Well I'm sorry" She snaps, "It's just that from my experience. Pretty blondes like you are always stuck up and stupid, that's just how it is. Just pretty people in general. No offense Peyton, I'm sure you're not stuck up or stupid. But pretty blonde girls are like Barbie, well not technically like Barbie, because if any real woman was shaped so disproportionately as Barbie, she'd have to walk on all fours, but I'm sure you know what I mean Barbie's very beautiful but there's just nothing there" Suddenly I snap. I guess maybe it was being compared to Barbie that did it, even though truth be told, Barbie was my greatest hero all the way up to 6th grade or maybe it is the way Brooke Delaney has to get fucking technical about everything. Something just really set's me over the edge as in Beautiful Blonde idiot overboard. All of a sudden, I am no longer feeling shy or afraid, I now I am just angry. "

You don't know me!" I snap. I stand up so fast I am dizzy. "You don't know the first thing about me" I know it is never a good idea to throw insults right back at someone, it is the last thing I want to do, but I am in no mood for taking the high road. Besides I am not about to defend myself when there is nothing there for me to defend. It's immature, but I can't help it. If I can't defend myself and try to convince her that she is wrong, then character assassination is the way to go. I want to hurt Brooke Delaney as much as she hurt me. "You want to know what I think of you?" I ask my voice coming out bitter. "Yes I would" She says "What do you think of me Barbie?" "Do you want the long list or do you want the short list?" I ask. "Whichever Barbie" She says. I decide to go with the long list. "You are the most pretentious bitch I've ever met, you always argue with everyone because secretly you want everyone to hate you as much as you hate yourself"

"I actually happen to like myself thank you very much" Now I am infuriated. There is just no insulting Brooke Delaney.

"Really?" I ask, "Why? You're really not as smart as you think you are. You act like the smartest person in the room just for the sake of arguing with people. You argue for the sake of arguing because you're a miserable cunt. You use big words and make up percentages just to make your self look smart and you know why that is? It's because you feel insecure because you are stupid" "Well at least I have a personality" She says, "And I am not stupid you know" "Damn right you have a personality" I say folding my arms across my chest.

"A terrible one. The way you judge people? Are you really surprised that you don't have any friends? You totally ask for it bitch" She folds her arms across her chest in a similar manner. I'm glad she is unable to stand up, because I somehow know for a fact that she is way taller than me. Even sitting down I can tell that she is freakishly tall. If we were to have a fist fight or a boxing match she would win hands down. That is if neither of us had Lou Gehrig's Disease "At least I have something to say. At least I would give people the time of day" "Yes" I say, "As a matter a fact, you always have something to say you just have to talk 24: 7. You're mouth just always has to be moving. Don't you ever get tired of listening to yourself? With that oh so annoying African Accent of yours" Brooke Delaney continues to chose not to get angry.

"For your information, it is a Tahitian accent" "Same thing" I snap. She finally raises her voice. "No not the same thing at all. Don't you know anything, Tahiti is an Island off the West Indies in NORTH America." I don't see why she puts so much emphasis on the word North and not America. You really are as stupid as I thought, or maybe even stupider." I have run out of insults and I am feeling dizzier by the second. I put my hands on the seat of my chair and lean over. "You okay?" Brooke Delaney asks, "Are you going to pass out or something?" The dizziness just like that passes which is very unusual. Usually it lasts quite a lot longer. "Why do you care. I'm just a dumb sorority girl" I wasn't really thinking and I don't know why that even came up, she didn't say anything about hating sorority girls. I guess just all the thoughts about Whitney and partying is what made me think of it.

"You're a sorority girl now too?" "Yes" I say suddenly all shy again. "Then I really couldn't care less if you are okay or if you are going to pass out. Sorority girls and Fraternity boys are what's wrong with today's society as a matter a fact popular people in general. All of you are evil consuming media whores every single one of you." Now I kind of feel a little bad because it sounds to me like she was bullied by popular kids. "I'm sorry you were bullied okay?" I say grudgingly.

"Bullied?" She spits out. Her eyes are filled with amusement. "Are you fucking kidding me? You really think I was bullied. The popular people were off my radar and I was off their radar." I have a great deal of trouble believing that. If she acted like that in school who the hell wouldn't want to bully her. "You weren't bullied?" I ask, I fold my arms even tighter across my chest. "How could that be?" "What are you getting at Barbie?" She asks. I suddenly feel shy again but it is short lived. "How were you not bullied?" I ask. "Homeschooling ever heard of it?" She asks. "Of course you haven't because you're stupid" "Then what's your problem?" I ask. "What the hell is your problem with popular people?"

"My problem" Brooke Delaney says, "Is that they're phony and nasty pieces of work. And you my friend? You're the worst kind of popular girl" "And what kind of Popular girl would that be?" I ask suddenly I am nervous again, shy insecure and inferior. "The kind with no mind and even worse no personality or anything that even remotely resembles one" "You're just jealous" I blurt out. "Jealous?" Brooke Delaney asks, a huge smirk similar to the Grinch's is plastered to her face. "Me jealous of you?" If any thing sweet cheeks you should be jealous of me" Touche! I say to myself. I really am jealous of her. She is so sure of herself, so not afraid to speak her mind. So full of personality. I'm almost positive she is just as jealous of me as I am of her. I was given everything I wanted, was rich, popular and very successful with my modeling career. On top of everything else I am far less disabled then her. She is clearly jealous that she has to share her name and her disease with someone so superior to her. (There I go again being stuck up) truth be told however, I'm almost positive that her name was not a hand me down from some disowned older brother, I'm sure her parents named her Brooke because they plainly and simply liked the name. "Bitch" I snap. "Fucking Cunt" She snaps back. Before either of us know what is happening things get physical. I pull one of her tight curls and stretch it out as far as it can go. In turn she grabs onto my hair and yanks it which is really pretty unfair because I really didn't pull her hair all that hard I don't think. We continue to go at it like a pair of angry hens in a chicken coop. Adrian surprises us all by whistling loudly with her fingers. I have always been very impressed by people who are able to do that.

"Brooke, Brooke" She says, I am sure that is targeted at both of us Brookes. "My goodness, am I going to have to separate the two of you?" We both face Adrian. "And Good fucking lord" Dyana says, "Are you two going to give us any time to talk, we've all got problems I say I'd like to never hear from either of you ever again. No more Brooke talk got it? There are three other people in the room. It's not all about you Brooke" I know for a fact that that is targeted at both of us. "So let's get on with the meeting" Dyana says. Adrian looks at her watch.

"Actually" She says, "Our meeting time is up, Brooke? Brooke? please see me" It is like we are back in elementary school, or just school in general and we are both about to get a detention. Dyana leaves right away as if she is going to Africa or some place equally exciting. Adrian sits across from us. "I'm not mad at either of you" She says looking at both of us. "It's very healthy to get angry in a support group setting. I am however very disappointed. The two of you were very disruptive. Brooke Dalaney and I both in almost sync stare at the ground. "Right now our support group is very small, as I've said before it may get bigger but for now their's only five people and if two of those people out of the five aren't getting along and are at each other's throats all the time then it might not work out. I mean what am I saying? It's for sure not going to work out. I'll see you two next week, "I've got to go home and have dinner with my husband. Brooke Delaney wheels her self outside, but I don't leave the room. Apparently Peyton has been standing outside my door the entire time. "Brooke you all right?" He asks. "Leave me alone" I reply. I then hear my phone go off and see that I have a missed call. Make that 20 missed calls. I scroll down to find that all of them are from Whitney. God fucking damnit. What a god damn fucking coincidence, I had been thinking about Whitney and here she is trying to call me. Truth be told I really don't want to talk to her about all of this. On paper she is my best friend, but in reality she is the person I would much prefer to run and hide from. Very reluctantly I check to see if she has sent me any texts. Sure enough she has. Lot's of them, maybe even more texts than phone calls, I'm sure their are a lot more she sent without knowing my inbox was full. I open each text.

From: Whitney: Brooke RUOK? CB: 919-6400, Jan 15th 2015, 4:00 PM

From Whitney: Brooke Call Me! ASAP! CB: 919-6400, Jan 15th, 3:45 PM

From Whitney:Talk To Me! CB: 919 - 6400 Jan 15th: 3:41 PM

From Whitney: Please Text Me Back! CB: 919 - 6400 Jan 15th 3:40 PM

From Whitney: Hey Best Friend! CB: 919 - 6400 Jan 15th 3:29 PM

From Whitney: Hi! CB: 919 - 6400 Jan 15th: 3:18 PM

From Whitney: Text me when you get this CB: 919 - 6400 Jan 15th: 3:07 PM

From Whitney: Call me when you get this CB: 919 - 6400 Jan 15th: 2:57 PM

From Whitney: I Am Crying (She even pastes a little crying emoticon) CB: 919 - 6400 Jan 15th 2:36 PM

From Whitney: Let me know on CB: 919 - 6400 Jan 15th 2:30 PM

Obviously that's one she hadn't finished and sent as a butt dial, or maybe just really bad cell phone connection. I scroll down to her earlier texts, because I know I'm just going to get more of the same thing. I open one from the day I got out of the hospital. I scroll down to the bottom the first of Whitney's text. It says. "I hear you have AIDS" Now I am really confused. Where could she have possibly have heard that. I reluctantly text her back. "Where did you hear that?" I text. Almost instantly she texts back.

From Whitney: I heard it from Scoonie on your facebook page, (I suddenly remember that after our wedding I'd stopped updating my face book posts) who said he heard it from Pete who heard it from Garf who heard it from AJ, and AJ said he heard it from you? Why'd you tell AJ before you told me?

Now I am really confused who is AJ? Then I remember. I had told Assjuice, or rather Assjuice saw my bracelet. But why would he tell Garf I had AIDS if he knew I had ALS? I text Whitney back

From Brooke: When did Assjuice tell Garf that?

Whitney once again replies in almost an instant

Whitney: At some party apparently, you don't have AIDS do you?

Now I can almost see how Garf might have gotten confused, maybe during the party the acoustic's were really loud, maybe in fact probably he mentioned I had ALS, but Garf heard him say AIDS, it's obscure but hey people hear much stranger things through the grapevine. I take or at least try to take in a couple more deep breaths. I don't want to tell Whitney that I am sick. Not now anyway, I don't know why I'm so hesititant. Maybe it's because I feel I have failed somehow. I have read somewhere although I am not sure where that Beta females are always better off than their Alpha counterpart. I hate to say it but I suddenly feel a strong hatred for Whitney. She was much bitchier than I was back in the day, so why does she get off scott free? Life is so unfair. I text Whitney back with a very short reply

Brooke: No

Just that just plainly and simply no. I do not have AIDS. Whitney responds and I suddenly feel like the worlds shittiest best friend

Whitney: Oh thank god Brook! I'm so glad you are okay! Please call me!

I do not call her. I turn the power button on my phone off and stash it away in my purse. As it turns out, Peyton has not left. "Brooke?" He asks. I give him my full attention. He clears his throat and I can tell that he is REALLY really nervous. "Are you? Are you hungry?" Can it be? Is he asking me out on a date? I nod shyly. "W'Would you like to get some Chinese food?" I am at such a huge loss for words that all I can do is nod my head. Stupid idiot! I am such a stupid idiot! Why the fuck wasn't I able to tell the sex god that I'm married. Because he's a sex god that's why and it's as simple as that


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Ted

I am sitting in my living room watching the clock tick by slowly when suddenly my phone goes off. I figure that it is Brooke telling me she is done with her meeting and wants me to pick her up, however when I look at my phone I find a number that I do not recognize at all. 919 - 6400. It's from Raliegh California I wrack my brain but can not think of a single person "Hello" I say. "Ted It's me" Now I remember, I had given Whitney my number one night during a one night's stand, but apparently I didn't ask for her number, or maybe I just didn't ever put it into my phone.

"Whitney?" I ask "What's up?"

"Ted is Brooke okay?" She asks. A sharp hot knife pierces up and down my stomach, and I can feel myself break out into a cold sweat and a hot sweat at the same time. We haven't seen Whitney or her husband Jude since the wedding, and as far as I know Brooke hasn't been keeping in touch with her. I wonder why she's even questioning it. "W'what?" I ask finding the sound of my voice very strange.

"I said Is Brooke okay?" Whitney repeats herself, this time sounding even more frantic then before. "Why are you asking?" "Well first of all" Whitney says, "I heard some pretty weird shit on facebook" "What kind of weird stuff" I ask, my hot knife pierced stomach is doing all kinds of backwards flips and forwards flips. I the suddenly feel like I may have explosive Diahriah and piss my pants at the same time. "Scoonie posted on her wall and said"

"Don't tell me" I say, I can not stand the hectic factor of all this. I clear my throat. "Er I mean, I'll check it out on facebook." I keep Whitney hanging on line for a bit I then turn my computer on and press the Safari icon. I then go to favorites and click on facebook, which is hardly a favorite at all. Brooke and I have been trying to avoid facebook at all costs after the embarrassment that was our wedding. I instantly check Brooke's wall and find there is almost enough comments to fit into a chat room of some sort. br / Scoonie Goldstien Posted On Brooke Shy's Wall (Apparently she hasn't updated her facebook page at all after the wedding and there is the proof right there)

Scoonie Goldstien January 14th 12:00 PM : Brooke I heard from Garf who heard it from Pete who heard it from Assjuice that you have AIDS? Is it true? Are you all right?

Right underneath his post Garf Tanner posts a comment. "My god I hope it's not true girl, but Assjuice made it pretty clear when we got wasted that night.

Brittany Hahn: OMG Brooke RUOK?/

Ebony Peters: Are You All right? Oh Brooke! /span/p

Pete Regezolli: Is there anything I can do?

Gary McFadden: I think there's a bit of a missunderstanding here

"Ted" Whitney asks snapping me back into the realization that I am still talking to her on the phone? "Are you still there?" "Oh er sorry!" I apologize (Duh) "Everyone thinks she has AIDS" "Pretty bad huh?" Whitney asks. "I sent her a text earlier trying to explain it all. "She said she didn't have AIDS, but I'm so not convinced Ted, I'm really worried that something might be very wrong with her because I've been trying to talk to her for a really long time but every single one of my texts, messages, e'mails and phone calls have gone unanswered." She let's out a loud cry.

"Please Ted" She sobs, "Please tell me it's not true! Please tell me she doesn't have AIDS" She then starts sobbing uncontrollably into the phone.

"She doesn't" I say. "She doesn't?" She asks.

"You mean she's okay?" "Yes" I say. "Oh my god thank goodness." Whitney cries. I feel like a terrible dick wad for lying to Whitney and feel I must clear it up with her. I'm right about one thing, she does not have AIDS, but wrong about another thing, she is not okay. "No!" I say after a period of silence.

"What no?" Whitney asks causing my heart to pound thunderously against my chest. I clear my throat. "She has Lou Gehrig's Disease" I tell her. "She has what?" Whitney asks.

"She has ALS. You know what that is don't you."

"Oh my god" She says for about a couple hours straight (I mean that in the least literal way in case you were wondering) I really wish she would say something else. Finally she sounds angry.

"Oh my god!" She snaps. "I can't believe I'm hearing this from YOU!" I am at a loss for words, but that's okay Whitney's got pretty much all the talking taken care of.

"Brooke's been my best friend since preschool, since before that even, since we were in diapers." "So?" I ask just for a lack of anything else to say, I do get it, I know what it's like to have a best friends since the diaper and bandaids era. I'm sure Pete is just as pissed as me for keeping this from him and why shouldn't he be?

"SO?" I ask.

"So?" Whitney cries. "SO? So Why didn't I hear it from her instead of FUCKING YOU" My mind is so numbed down that I think she really is referring to our one night stand. And what can that possibly have to do with anything. She bursts into leftover tears. "I'm sorry you had to hear it from me, she's been pretty darn scared do you think it's an easy thing for her to talk about?" I say, "Give her a break." "I had to hear it from Scoonie who heard it from Pete who heard it from Garf who heard it from ASSJUICE! And Assjuice found it out from her. I'm her fucking best friend and she told Assjuice before telling me" In the background I hear Jude yelling at her to get the phone. "I better go" She says tearfully. I then decide I need to get to the bottom of this. It turns out Assjuice is on chat at this very moment of course he s going by Gary now though. I IM him instantly. "Gary" I type in, "I just saw some pretty weird shit on Brooke's facebook page, what did you tell Garf anyway?" Assjuice reply's very quickly. "I told him she had ALS" He replies. We continue to IM/span/p

Ted Sanders: According to Whitney you told Garf Brooke had AIDS/span/p

Gary McFadden: I did not say anything of the sort, I told him she had ALS. He must have heard me wrong because all of the bad acoustics, but I must inform you that I did not say anything about her having AIDS. He must have heard AIDS when I said ALS. I apologize

I am all of a sudden thrown off by how on earth he could possibly know about Brooke, as far as I know Assjuice has been off our radar for years, I can't believe he's even on Garf's radar or that he even went to a party in the first place. I'll tell you one thing, Assjuice has sure gotten damn bitter after all these years. We continue our conversation.

Gary McFadden (Pending)

I know he is really taking his time on his reply. I know it's going to be very long and thought

Gary McFadden: I ran into her at the hospital, I kind of took a peak at her medical bracelet which said she had ALS. I guess she didn't tell you about that but I suppose why the fuck would she? I'm nobody to her, she's never given me the time of day.

I don't even bother to read the rest of his ultra long IM. It's probably more of the same thing anyway, more poor little me. I text him back anyway

Ted Sanders: So you think her being a snot to you gives you the excuse to go spreading nasty shit about her having AIDS to Garf?

Gary: I thought I told you, I did not say she had AIDS, I said she had ALS and it was just really bad acoustics at the bar. I'm sure you would know that if you actually paid even the slightest bit to my IM message.

I suddenly wonder to myself, why I am even bothering with this. It's just going to be the Assjuice show 24:7 he doesn't care about Brooke and he sure as hell doesn't give a damn about me. I slam the screen down in intense anger. Everything about his IM pisses me off including the part where he called it an IM message. As far as I know IM is short for Instant Message and that's really fucking redundant. I suddenly realize that it is 5:00 and Brooke's meeting got over at 4:30. I have gotten so caught up in this stupid rumor mill that it somehow completely slipped my mind. Stupidstupidstupid! I know I am going to be late. I call her and let her know that I am running a bit late, but for some reason she does not answer the phone. My heart races really hard across my chest. It almost feels like it has become disconnected from the pulmonary trunk and has somehow gone rogue inside my body. (Hey I remember some stuff from high school biology want to make something of it?) I know for a fact that something has happened to her. I feel like I can't get to the church fast enough which I can't because 5:00 is happy hour. My road rage increases to the very max. I lean over and honk the horn in a fitful rage. A couple of people give me the middle finger. In my right mind I would know that they all have the right of way, but fuck I am not in my right mind, or even anything close to it It makes me wonder if I even should be driving in the first place. I have heard you are never supposed to drive if you are super tired, I wonder if that may be the same thing with being super angry, obviously I'm not thinking straight

When I finally get to the Lutheran Church my watch reads 5:30. Fuckfuckfuck! I run into the building, I am so breathless. I assume Brooke is going to be somewhere waiting for me, but the halls are empty, the only person in the church is an old janitor. It then occurs to me that all the rooms of the church are locked and empty.

"Excuse me" I say to the janitor. "I'm looking for someone."

"I'm sorry" He says, "But the church is about the close up for the night, everyone's cleared out"

"W'what?" I ask, my panic has risen to the ultimate maximum.

"I'm sorry, but this church closes up at 5:00 and you are exactly 31 minutes late. My lungs feel like they have collapsed into each other and are crushing into my ribcage. No matter how hard I try to breathe, I can not. "Son?" The Janitor asks, "You All right?" I don't say a word, I bolt out the door, maybe Brooke is waiting for me outside. I look everywhere but she is no where to be seen. I hear loud sobs and I don't know where they are coming from, it takes me by complete surprise when I finally realize they are coming from my body, I am soaking from tears and from sweat. the ground spins insanely around me as my rogue heart speeds against my chest. I can feel myself fall backwards, and before I know it my head hits the wall of the church. I am out


	17. Chapter 17

hapter 17: Brooke

"So do you have a favorite Chinese restaurant?" Peyton asks as we walk out to his car, I am surprised he is allowed to drive with his condition, I sure as hell am not, but then again I have it worse then he does.

"I was thinking we could go for Dim sum at Bao Dim Sum house" he suggests. I feel really weird about the idea of going out for Dim Sum with a guy who isn't Ted and who I hardly know at all, but kind of weird in a good way. It is just what I need after having half of my hair yanked out and insulted to high heaven about my lack of personality by some loser with the same name as me. I am at a loss for words.

"Does that sound good, maybe if you want we can go out for Sushi, you like Sushi?"

"S'Sure!" I say my voice coming out quiet and far away. I mean to say the name Peyton, but I am so nervous that it comes out sounding like Pedergledon, or Pedargledon or something equally unsexy along those lines. There is just something especially sexy about the way he says the word sushi.

He smiles a cute little crooked smile at the way I stammered over his name. I snap myself back into reality. I can't do this, I am fucking married, Ted is supposed to pick me up from my meeting, he is supposed to come and get me any minute now, I would assume.

"Sushi or Dim Sum?" He asks, "You're choice" I am not by any means hungry, but my mouth isn't seeming to cooperate with my brain and before I know it, I have agreed to Sushi. "Sushi it is" He says he then holds out his hand, how on earth am I supposed to tell him that I am married? I don't say a word, I let him take me by the hand and walk me to his car. "What kind of music do you like?" He asks me as we start driving.

"I like Kesha, Fergie, Flo Rida, Sunday Lane and Brooke Annibale" I say, how about you? "I like the Beatles" Peyton says. "You like them?" Somehow that makes Peyton a couple of temperatures hotter. What's not to love about a wholesome guy who loves the Beatles? Truth be told I have never listened to the Beatles, but I remember Brandy went through a phase where she was in love with Ringo Star or maybe It was George Harrison, or Paul McCartney or John Lennon, I don't know she was hot for one of them Beatles, before she started liking girls that is. "Sure" I say, "I like the Beatles"

We do not talk and I feel more uncomfortable by the second. How could I do this to Ted? I am such a horrible wife. The song Help is playing in the background, and I can't possibly think of a better background noise. "We're here" He says. As we park next to the Sushi house. It is a beautiful building. The name of the restaurant is Asanebo, I have never been there let alone heard of it, but let's just say Ted and I don't really do Sushi so much. It is Decorated with a beautiful Gold Dragon.

"Let's go" Peyton says, as we step out of the car I reach into my purse and pull out my phone to check the time. I panic when I see I have gotten two missed calls from Ted. chills rush through my body. "You okay?" Peyton asks clearly he is sensing my tension. I clear my throat. "Y'yeah" I say, "I'm just checking the time" I hastily put my phone back into my purse. "All right then let's go" He says. My cell phone then starts beeping again. I see that I have a message from Ted but I do not open it. "What's wrong?" Peyton asks, as I stop again. "Nothing" I say, I then turn off my cell phone which I know is a terrible thing to do to Ted. The restaurant is an overwhelming combination of darkness and strobe lights. It is making me very dizzy, but what is making me even dizzier and light headed is the fact that I am cheating on my husband. It is a combination of the bad kind of dizzy as in I know I am doing something sickeningly wrong and the good kind of dizzy as in I am completely a free woman tonight and I am in love. It sickens me that the guy I am in love with is not Ted and that I haven't felt so infatuated by Ted in such a long time.

"We'll get a table for two tonight" Peyton says in a voice that is so sexy I feel like I may go weak at the knees. "Booth or table?" The waiter asks. "We'll take a booth" Peyton says. My heart pounds really fast across my chest as he takes my hand and leads me to a booth, As much as I love the feel of his hand in mine, it all feels too weird. So weird that I instantly drop his hand.

"What what's wrong?" Peyton asks. "Nothing" I lie. I clear my throat, "You just have really really cold hands that's all" Lie. It is a complete lie, his hands are not remotely cold. "I'm sorry" Peyton says. "And also" I say very slowly and almost robotically "We hardly know each other, let's take this slow okay?" Peyton scratches his head. "Shit, I'm sorry" he says. "You got it" He smiles his crooked smile again and I want to melt. We slide into the booth. "I will get you your menus" I tiny middle aged japanese woman says smiling widely. She probably thinks we're an adorable couple, but she does not know the whole story, she doesn't know that I'm married and that Peyton is probably not as single as he says he is.

As a matter a fact I can tell by just looking at Peyton that he probably has a girlfriend, and why shouldn't he, he probably has girls lined up to be with him. The waitress has no idea that Peyton and I are just a pair of strangers who met at a support group for people with ALS If we got together it would be like something straight out of a One Last Wish novel, Brandy really liked the series when she was in high school and she got me pretty hooked on them as well. They are corny and kind of stupid, but they are also very addicting, and as much as I hate to admit it, they really started to grow on me after a while.

Once I started reading the first book I just couldn't stop. In every story the sick main character always got together with someone they met through either a support group or from the same hospital ward. Of course I never let my self get super attached to the protagonists, because they always died at the end and I always knew they were going to. Although they were fun, they were never super realistic by any means. People falling in love with other people in the hospital/ support groups just is not something that happens in real life, at least it's not going to happen with me and Peyton, and if it did it wouldn't turn out all happy and magical the way it does in all the books because real life is not a friggin One Last Wish book. I try to smush our names together, and come up with Breyton. I say the name over and over in my head and realize that it sounds so much better then "Bred" It has a nice ring to it unlike Bred which has no real ring to it at all. Peyton waves his hand in my face snapping me out of everything.

"Hey you okay?" He asks, "You looked like you went somewhere for a second. I suddenly feel a great urge to tell Peyton about Ted, to just end everything right then and there. I feel like the words "I'm married" Should very easily slip off my tongue but they do not, my mouth becomes all dry and my tongue feels like it's literally tied itself into knots. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead.

"Brooke what's wrong?" Peyton asks, he seems to like that question almost as much as Ted.

"Nothing" I say, "Should we order" Peyton gives me a weird look but recovers quickly. "I already ordered" He says, apparently in that small window of time that I was spacing out the waiter had come and taken our order. I'm not sure if I blacked out or not. "I got us a spicy dragon roll, some yellow tail and some tako" "You ordered Tacos?" I ask, "At a sushi restaurant?" he smiles his crooked little smile and chuckles a reserved little laugh, although he still appears kind of worried. But I guess now that I think about it, he kind of has a constant worried look plastered upon his face whether he's worried or not. "No that's japanese for Octopus it's spelled with a k not with a c." He says. That makes me feel like gagging. I'm not a picky eater by any means, so it surprises me a bit when I throw up a tiny bit in my mouth. "I also ordered Saki on the house, you seem like you could loosen up a little bit" "Saki" I say, "That sounds great" I decide to check the time on my phone I have left in my purse. If I didn't know any better I would think that Ted wouldn't notice that I'm gone, that Peyton and I might be able to make it back in time before Ted comes to get me. Unfortunately I do know better, and I know that that is not the case, time has gone by and Ted knows I am missing, I open up my phone and I see that I have gotten two more messages from Ted, and two more from Whitney as well.

"Brooke?" Peyton asks, "Do you need to use your phone?" I turn it off. "No!" I say, "I'm good" I feel more and more terrible by the second. "Are you okay?" He asks, "Seriously, you just seem really uncomfortable, are you not having a good time?" I try to think of something to say but my mouth is still completely dry. "Is it the restaurant?" He asks, "Would you have preferred Dim Sum?" I shake my head. "No" I say distractedly, "Sushi's great. This is great." "You sure?" He asks, "Would you have preferred a table instead of a booth" "No" I say "I told you it's great, It's perfect in fact" I give him a toothless smile which instantly dissolves into a frown. I tap my fingers nervously against the table.

"Is it Brooke Delaney?" He asks, "She was really horrible embarrassing you like that when she didn't even know the first thing about you" I want to tell Peyton that he doesn't know anything about me, but once again, I can not speak. All I can do is nod my head in agreeance, seems like the safest thing to do. I'm sure that even though he thinks she's a complete bitch, Peyton can very easily agree with Brooke Delaney. I am really not showing much personality. I can see how he might think I have none. I can also very easily see how he could think I might be a shallow bubble head. I am not doing much of anything to prove Brooke Delaney wrong about me. "You just seem really bummed" Peyton says and it shocks me because for some reason I think a hot guy like him would have a more sophisticated vocabulary, and bummed seems like an expression Ted would use "I seem bummed?" I ask unable to help smile. "Me? No I'm not bummed. How do I seem bummed?" I give him a large fake smile showing every single one of my pearly white teeth. Luckily I am saved from our conversation when the waitress places our food and saki in front of us. "Hey" Peyton says, "The way Brooke Delaney ripped you apart that really wasn't okay of her" He touches my hand again and I jerk away. Peyton clears his throat. "Sorry" He says, "I forgot we're taking this relationship slowly. I hope you will feel better about holding hands eventually"

"Eventually" I say pouring myself a tiny cup of saki. It shocks me that it is served hot, that totally wasn't what I was expecting. It is so shocking and terrible that I spit it, no squirt it out, squirting Peyton right in the face. "Shit" I say covering my face with my hands, "I'm sorry" "Nah don't worry about it" Peyton says smiling his crooked little smile. "You don't like it?" He asks. "No I like it" I say giving him yet another toothy smile. "It's just hot" Peyton gives me another worried look, but I honestly can't tell if he is worried or not since he always looks worried no matter what. "Yeah that's how they do Saki here" Peyton says, "They serve it hot" He scratches the back of his head. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you" He begins not only helping himself to the sushi but also filling my plate. While Peyton begins eating, (Very politely I must add, the guy has even more etiquette then my father, he is very clumsy with the chopsticks, but what else can you expect from someone with Lou Gehrig's Disease?)

I push the food around my plate with my chopstick. "You're not eating" He says, putting down his chopsticks. "I'm just waiting for it to cool down" He gives me an odd look. "It's sushi" He says, giving me another worried smile. "It's supposed to be served cold" I wouldn't be surprised if they served it hot like the saki. "You don't like Sushi do you. Oh man we should have gone up for Dim Sum" Peyton says. "No It's okay, I like it" I lie, because I can't even stand looking at it. "Do you want to get out of here?" Peyton asks after a long moment of silence. I pour myself another glass of hot saki, because I really need to loosen up, my nerves are very tight right now,

"Maybe my big brother Heydon could help you out with your case of nerves" He says and I squirt saki out of my nose once again, I guess because I can't keep from laughing even though it's really not that funny. I guess my case of nerves is just so bad that I'll take any humor I could get. It's really not funny. It's about as funny as Brooke and Brock which is not funny. "Heydon and Peyton?" I ask. "What were you're parents thinking?" Peyton smiles his crooked smile. "They weren't I guess" I'm sure the similarities in their names was a coincidence, I'm sure his parents didn't directly name him after his older brother.

"My parents really liked the name Peyton" He says, "I was named after the protagonist in The Occurrence At Owl Creek Bridge" "I've never heard of that" I say, "What is that?" "It's an old short story by Ambrose Beirce" The whole thing is going completely over my head, I have never been super interested in Literature and now I feel kind of stupid. I take a couple more sips of now luke warm saki. "What's it about?" I ask, "It's about a man who got hanged" He says smiling a crooked smile,

"His name was Peyton, Peyton Farqhuar" "Oh my god" I say, "That's a terrible thing to be named after" Peyton shrugs. "It was actually a pretty cool movie" He says. "I've only ever seen the movie, I've never read the short story" All I can do is nod my head, because somehow being named after a protagonist in such a badass movie/short story adds a whole other dimension of sexy. He then describes the movie in detail but of course I am unable to pay any attention. It is amazing how someone so good looking like Peyton can be so intellectual. He clears his throat. "I'm sorry" He says, "I'm not boring you am I?" I shake my head. "No" I say "That sounds really amazing. My parents named me after my older brother Brock. The one who they disowned. They obviously wanted another son that they could name Brock 2.0 but they had me and obviously Brock 2.0 wouldn't work for a girl" I let out a tiny shiver. "No way!" Peyton says, "That's terrible." I feel like crying again, but once again and unable to. He then calls out to the waitress "Hey we'll take our check now" He says. "You don't like your food?" She asks apparently noticing that we have barely eaten anything. "We'll get a couple of to go boxes" He says. "On it" The waitress says. Instead of crying I shiver. "Hey you cold?" Peyton asks. "Yes" I lie, even though truth be told it is super hot inside this sauna of a restaurant. Their is terrible ventilation. I am not really sure why I didn't just tell the truth, it is a stupid as fuck lie.

We are silent for a long period of time. The waitress returns with our to go boxes and the receipt. Thank god she isn't all judgmental about how we got a to go box when we've almost literally just got here while many other waitresses find that to be very rude. "Thank you for coming" She says. Peyton being the complete gentleman he is takes out his Visa card. "I'll be right back" She says. Peyton and I are once again in complete silence, and once again it is very uncomfortable. I suppose that Peyton is like me a person of very few words. The waitress can not get there any sooner, and when she does it is a huge relief.

"Shall we go then?" Peyton asks. I nod. He helps me out to the car. During the car ride we are once again silent. But for some reason it is a peaceful silence unlike when Ted and I fail to talk in the car and also very unlike how it was in the restaurant. I find that to be a great opportunity to space out and listen to the Beatle's Abbey road album. As I listen to the song Octopus's garden, I imagine what a great escape that sounds like and how much I would like to be exactly there at this exact moment. It surprises me when Peyton finally speaks. "You know what's weird?" He asks turning down the music so we can talk. "What?" I ask suddenly realizing that the song Octopus's garden has ended a long time ago and now the song "She came to me from the bathroom window" or something on the lines of that is playing. The Beatles have some pretty damn trippy stuff. Peyton stares straight ahead as he drives.

"I hardly ever got sick before, maybe even never, well aside from the common cold that is" I am silent for a while trying to think about whether it is true with me. Now that I think about it, the only time I remember getting really sick was when Brandy and I both had the Croup in Elementary school, if I remember correctly, Brandy had it quite a bit worse then I did. I try to think back on whether or not I even had the chicken pox, I think in this day and age there are vaccine's for pretty much everything, even things like the chicken pox, I'm almost positive that the vaccines included that one. Suddenly a dark thought pops into my mind. There is a link between between neurological disorders such as Autism and Alzheimer's and vaccine's so maybe it's not too big of a stretch that their could be a link between ALS and vaccines.

"Brooke you with me?" Peyton asks, because I suppose he has been talking away and I haven't been paying any attention. I nod. "Yeah do you think there's a link between ALS and vaccines?" I ask, "There is a link between other neurological diseases after all" "Never thought about it" Peyton says nonchalantly. "I mean think about it" I say, "I never got sick because I've had a lot of vaccines and vaccine's are known to cause neurological disorders" I shut up for a while, "I'm sorry" I say realizing I am getting too clinical and not to mention a little bit too personal with someone I have just met today. After our little conversation, we are back to an uncomfortable silence. The drive seems to take forever and I don't really understand why Peyton even offered that information if we weren't going to talk about it any further. I suddenly realize how damn uncomfortable I am and how much I wish I were at home with Ted. "We're here" Peyton says, as we pull up to a dumpy old green student apartment with the paint chipping off in every direction. "Welcome to the green house" He says smiling. Peyton's brother opens the door right away

. "Where have you been little bro?" He asks, "I was so worried about you are you all right?" His mood shortly changes from concerned to angry, steaming angry that is. "You were supposed to come right home as soon as Support group ended" "I'm sorry" Peyton says staring down at the ground, "I uh kind of met someone" I step forward shyly and Heydon's mood completely changes once again.

"Whoa ho" He says. Apparently he didn't notice me before somehow, but I haven't been very noticable. "You got a nice one there little bro" He whistles and it is all kinds of wrong, right there I almost key word almost tell them that I am married, but my mouth feels like it is filled with Adams Natural Brand Crunchy Peanut Butter. "So uh" Peyton says to his brother and saving me of the frightening possibility of having to talk, "How's that new drug you're working on coming?" "Funny you should ask little bro" Heydon says, "Because I'm planning on launching it within the next couple of days" "You're working on a drug?" I ask. "What kind of drug" "I call it Drug X" He says, "I'm trying to make some money to take care of Peyton here" "What's in it?" I ask,

"Ah ah ah!" Heydon says in a mischievious way, "A good drug lord never gives away his secret, but I'll tell you it's totally like Pot on steroids." "I think you just gave it away?" I say shyly. Heydon tassels my hair. "You sure picked one with a good sense of humor little bro" He says. "I like her." He makes a silent cheering noise. "She's a keeper" Now I really want to tell them I'm married before it is too late, but it somehow feels like it is already too late. Much too late. "So uh Heydon" I say,

"My sister Brandy knew a guy in College named Heydon, apparently he made her life a living hell" I can feel my cheeks turn bright red, the way that they did when Kelly tried to hook me up with Pete. That is no way to start a conversation with someone I don't know, especially someone named Heydon. I am such an idiot "No way!" Heydon says, his eyes turning wide,

"Brandy was your sister?" I can't tell whether he's being sarcastic or not, but regardless I do not say another word. "I hated that girl" Now I feel relaxed but also a little protective.

"Why would you hate Brandy?" I ask. "Brandy's great" I feel betrayed by her after she told me about the whole Brock thing and by the way she treated me at our wedding which I now realize was well deserved, yet I cannot help but feel the need to stand up for her. "Really" Heydon asks. "She never shut up in class, she was such a god damn know it all, and always talked about how much she hated her stupid annoying little sister" I feel my face flush with shame and embarrassment, I wonder what Brandy said about me, Heydon however doesn't even give me an opportunity to ask "So I guess that would make you that stupid annoying little sister. I don't know what she's talking about you're not stupid or annoying" I can suddenly see where Brandy must have been coming from. Although I have always been quiet and a person of very few words around most people, there was one person I felt comfortable about being an annoying chatterbox around and that one person was Brandy. I guess she was the one person I felt comfortable enough to be my self around. Therefor she was the one person who saw my true colors. I was contained and aloof in public, but around Brandy I was the classic annoying bratty little sister, the one who never shut up not ever. I somehow mistook my need to annoy Brandy 24:7 as an extrovert and not just any extrovert, but too much of an extrovert. I realize now that that is not true, I hardly ever even said boo to my parents, around the dinner table, it was mom dad and Brandy doing all the talking, while I just made comments on the weather or asked my parents to pass the Catsup or whatever. I was the favorite, but still during dinners it seemed like Brandy had more in common with them. I could have easily inserted myself into the conversation, I just never felt the need to bother. It's weird because with Brandy being who she is, and with me being who I am anyone would think Brandy was the last person I'd even so much as give the time of day to, but somehow that was far from the case. For some reason I was always excited to tell her about, what Whitney did, or Brittany said, or what Summer wore, or about Caitlyn's new purse and so forth. While I was constantly an inconsistent mess Brandy remained the same wherever she went. She was strange and eccentric at home, at school, at the grocery store, at the post office, at the bank, at the library at the gym, I suppose you get the picture everywhere she went she was the same old Brandy.

I feel a twinge of jealousy come over me. Heydon snaps me out of my train of thought "Anybody home?" He asks, "You haven't seemed to hear a word I was saying" I clear my throat. "I'm sorry" I say, "What did you say?" "I asked if you wanted to give drug X a try, you and Peyton could both be my guinea pigs. "Yeah sure" I say. "Brandy always said she wanted a puppy instead of a little sister" Heydon says because I suppose we are still on that conversation. Right now I can't say I blame her, the puppy would probably have been much less likely to get ALS.

It saddens me to hear about how much Brandy hates me, especially seeing how great Peyton get's along with his brother well from what little I've seen anyway. Heydon is making money by creating drugs just to take care of Peyton. It's not ideal or anything, but it hurts me to think that Brandy would never do anything like that for me. As a matter a fact, Brandy wants no part in dealing with my disease. She has been pretty much off my radar since Christmas. "It's a small world aint it? Heydon asks, "I mean my little bro and Brandy's little sis, meat an ALS support group and are now on a date." I am once again preparing to tell the two of them that I am married, but once again I fail to do so. I swallow hard. "Y'yeah" I say "Small world" Heydon drops a clear oval shaped pill into my hand, looks a lot like the drug they used in the crappy underwhelming movie Limitless which featured a drug that caused people to use 100% of their brains, apparently drug X is nothing like the drug in the movie, because I doubt anyone is going to be able to use 100% of their brain on "pot on steriods"

"One for you" He says to me, and one for Peyton. "None for you?" Peyton asks. "Eh" He says, "I'll get around to it when I get around to it, but like I was saying I'd like you two to be my guinea pigs so that way I can figure out whether I should market the drug, or try some other combination. Peyton has already popped his pill, but I am still holding it in my palms staring at it. "What are you waiting for?" Heydon asks, giving me a nudge of the shoulder. "Could I get a drink of water?" I ask. "Oh yes sure" Heydon says. He returns shortly. I take a sip of the water, it tastes funny not like water but like Vodka. It surprises me so much that squirt it out my mouth because apparently I have a habit of doing that today, especially with alcohol, the pill as well comes squirting out my mouth. Heydon laughs. "Sorry about that" He says, handing me the saliva drenched drug X, I'm surprised he was able to spot it, seeing it is so clear that it practically camouflages it's self.

"Just the old Vodka trick. I'll get you some water, that was completely hilar though don't you think?" "Wait hold up" I say as he heads towards the kitchen.

"Don't most drugs start working quicker with alcohol?" "I think that might be a bad idea" He says scratching the back of his head. I mean wouldn't be a lot safer to just take it by itself the first time?"

"You're right" I say. He returns with a bottle of Fiji water which I gulp down. It had completely escaped my mind how thirsty I am. I look over at Peyton, he looks so relaxed right now that I am more eager by the second for the drug to start kicking in. "So cartoons anyone?" Heydon asks. "Sure" Peyton says, sounding so damn peaceful. My drug X hasn't even started working at least not yet. Heydon turns to the cartoon network, the very odd cartoon features a guy who is both everyone's uncle and everyone's grandpa and is titled Uncle Grandpa. He hangs out with a slice of Pizza and a real live flying tiger. Peyton is clearly having an awsome time with the cartoon and is laughing hysterically and unable to stop because uncontrollable laughter is part of Lou Gehrig's Disease, and also clearly part of the drug effects, it is Pot on steroids after all and apparently the show really is that funny. Me? I am not laughing, but I too begin to notice some effects, and they are not welcoming side effects far from as a matter a fact. It feels like I have taken a bunch of heavy duty sleeping pills and like I am almost in some weird sort of zombie like in a lot of night mares I have had, I am unable to open my right eye all the way. I do not like it at all,

I need something to snap me out of my almost stupor like state. Suddenly Uncle Grandpa appears on the screen. "I love everyone" He says to the audience, "Except for you Brooke Sanders, you are a cheater who cheats" "Cheater" The slice of pizza and realistic tiger echo. I cover my face with a pillow. "You all right?" Heydon asks me. I bolt out of the room. "Brooke what's wrong?" Heydon calls me. I suddenly realize that I am starving, I then remember the to go box full of sushi, that Peyton had taken into the kitchen and put into the fridge and my mouth starts to really water. I stumble and fall a number of times. I am not sure if it has to do with my ALS or with the drugs effect or possibly a combination of both things at once. To be honest I'm not sure if or why it even matters. "Brooke you okay?" Heydon calls out to me. "Yeah I'm okay" I lie as I quickly pull myself up from the ground. "Do you need some help?" he asks me. "No I'm fine" I lie. As soon as I get into the kitchen I open up the fridge and begin devouring all of the sushi. I then turn on the radio because for some reason I think that will calm me down. I have turned the station to the game. The announcers voice sounds weird and puppet like. It is very loud and reminds me of the noise of nails on a chalkboard only maybe about 50 billion times worse "The Los Angeles Rams score a touchdown" He announces, "And in other news, Brooke Sanders is a cheater who cheats" I crumple to the ground and very tightly press my back against the wall. I realize I have to go back to Ted. The radio continues blasting at full blast only now the announcer is not talking about football or about how I cheated on Ted. As a matter a fact, who knows what he's talking about. A singular fat tear rolls down my cheeks. Peyton continues laughing hysterically at the cartoon and at this point his laughter sounds very odd, very shrill and loud with the combination of the voices on the radio. I cover my ears and try to scream but all I can do is yawn, like in the Bare Naked Ladies song Pinch Me. What kind of guys group names themselves Bare Naked Ladies anyway? I wonder to myself. Everything an anything suddenly seems really weird. Peyton continues laughing his ass off and I want to strangle him. How dare he have such an amazing time with the drug and I have such a shitty time. "I better go check on her" I hear Heydon say. He is in the kitchen in almost an instant.

"Brooke" He says shaking me by the shoulders. "Are you okay? Do you want to go home?" I do not want to go home, I am not ready to face Ted. "Will you turn off the radio?" I ask, "Please? It's so loud" Heydon gives me a puzzled look. "We don't have a radio in the kitchen" He tells me. The sharp knife feeling in my back re appears with a vengeance. I begin shaking uncontrollably. "Brooke you're shaking you okay?" Heydon asks. "Could I get you a blanket?" I nod my head slowly. The radio continues to blare at full blast and it is even more creepy that there is no radio. My panic rises when I remember that I specifically did turn on a radio. Maybe it was all a hallucination. Heydon shortly returns with a blanket. Suddenly without any warning whatsoever or anything that even remotely resembles a warning for that matter, I vomit. I do not feel the slightest bit sick or in pain. I just vomit. All the sushi and saki makes a second appearance all over Heydon's nice blanket he loaned me. I start to notice rice is coming out of my nose. I have heard horror stories about what happens to people when they vomit rice, but I never believed it until now when I'm actually experiencing it. It is like I am reliving the coleslaw nightmare, only it is rice and I do not feel sick. "Damn Brooke you all right?" Heydon asks me. I get up to my feet, and bolt the hell out of there. "Brooke wait" Heydon calls out to me, "Where are you going?" "Home!" I say, even though that is far from where I want to be. "I'll give you a ride" Heydon says, "Where do you live" "I don't know" I stammer. "But I'm okay, I'll walk" "You'll walk?" Heydon asks,

"Brooke you can't even walk in a straight line and besides you don't know where you live." "I'll be fine" I say as I walk towards the door, which I slam right into, somehow I didn't realize that it was closed, I guess obviously it has something to do with the drug X. "Oof" Heydon says, "You all right?" "Yeah fine" I lie. I try to pull open the door but it won't open. I begin to panic when I realize I am locked in the house. "Push Brooke!" Heydon finally says, I'm not exactly sure why he had taken so long to tell me, but when he does I feel like the stupidest idiot ever. I rush out the door, walking in a jagged line in no real direction. I suddenly have continuous vomiting spells in fact the entire time I am walking I am vomiting, and the rice is coming out of my nose. It must look really stupid to other people. Luckily I am able to stop vomiting for a moment and even more luckily I have a kleenex in my purse, I pull it out and start blowing my nose. I am both disgusted and for some reason shocked as to what I see. In the kleenex I see a huge whopping pile of Japanese sticky rice covered with snot. Just the sight of it alone makes me want to vomit, but for some reason when I try to I am completely dry. I guess I can only vomit when I don't feel sick. But when I actually do feel sick. Nothing. I keep walking aimlessly, falling down various times, unfortunately the streets are pretty much empty at this time of night in Los Angeles. I end up on the side walk in front of a tall white building. My legs once again feel pins and needlesy. I sit down on the edge of the sidewalk and pull out my phone. It turns out I have gotten 20 new unheard phone calls from Ted and a couple from Whitney as well. I punch in Ted's number, I will call Whitney when I get around to it. Ted answers the phone instantly. "Brooke? Sweetie? Are you all right?" He asks. "I need you to come get me" I say, my voice coming out strangely flat. "Where are you?" "I'I don't know" I say, "But I need you to come and get me" I suddenly realize that I am crying, but how long have I been crying? My face just feels really wet. "I think I did something terrible" I say, "But I'm not sure what" And I'm really honest to god not sure, all I know is that I am running away from something, but my memory of what it is is very unclear.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Ted**

I hope it is all just a bad dream. Not just the part about fainting and hitting my head on the side of the church, but pretty much all of it starting with Brooke's disease. I am longing to open my eyes and be back in my own bed, with a healthy Brooke by my side. If not that, I hope at least when I open my eyes I will be all alone and no one would have seen my embarrassing as fuck fainting spell. I open my eyes and am in sheer disappointment when I see that a huge group of strangers is hovering over me. For fucks sake, don't people have anything better to do in LA then to gather around someone who has fainted? They are not small town folk for gods sake, they are big city folk. Wouldn't fainting be an every day occurrence in the big city? I mean I'm sure people pass out drunk all the fucking time. But on the other hand I suppose, It's a big city, and that being the case their are a lot of people, so a lot of people probably saw me pass out outside the church.

"Oh fuck" I say as my eyes begin to focus more. The only person I actually recognize is the custodian from the church. "You were knocked out for quite some time" He tells me,

"How are you feeling?" As he puts his hand on my shoulder I jerk away from him. I am feeling excruciating by the way, but I am not about to tell these people my whole story about how I fainted and how Brooke is MIA and all that. I stand up and all the blood rushes to my head.

"Don't stand up so fast" The custodian says, he sounds angry and I am not really quite sure why, it is really none of his business it's my blood rushing through my brain after all and besides last time I checked he is a custodian not a doctor and also I have to think about my priorities which are finding Brooke.

"Sit back down kid" The custodian says, "Why should I?" I snap, "I don't have all the time in the world right now."

"Kid you fainted" He says, "And from the look of the bump on your head it appears you may need to see a doctor you may have a pretty bad concussion"

"I'm fine" I say again.

"You might want to see a doctor" The custodian suggests. "I'm fine" I protest a second time.

"I don't have time to see a doctor" I say taking off, and suddenly I realize that it really wasn't that great of an idea to stand up so fast, because now the blood is rushing through my head again. I stumble a tiny bit.

"Are you all right man?" The custodian asks. "Fine!" I snap. "And I don't need to see a fucking doctor" I just can't be the one in the hospital, not when Brooke could be in serious trouble and could be dead. I try phoning Brooke once again. Same thing I only get the message on her answering machine.

"Damnit!" I shout loudly. "DAMNIT!" I shout again, giving the side of the church a huge kick and I really don't care if it's fucking disrespectful I really need to kick something. I try calling the home phone once I am a tad bit more calmed down. If Brooke isn't dead already I am going to kill her if she doesn't answer her phone. I instantly feel guilty for even thinking such a thought. The phone rings a few times, but I let that slide a bit, I realize how difficult it is for her to get to the phone with all her mobility problems and what not. Finally I get the answering machine. I am in sheer panic once again. I try calling her cell phone again, still nothing.

Maybe she did go back at the house but just didn't feel up to answering the telephone. I decide I will check the house. Hopefully she will be there and everything will be okay. I expect to find her on the couch again watching TV, but when I open the door to the house something just doesn't seem right. The house is very dark, but I try to think optimistically, maybe she is just taking a nap or something. I go up to our bedroom. No Brooke. Not even a single trace of her. Now I am not just panicked now I am down right furious. So furious I start throwing things around the room, nice things to be exact, including Brooke's nice coffee mug she got from Brittany for the wedding, a couple of Brooke's cheerleading trophies from back in college, a nicely framed picture of me and my fraturnity the day of graduation, my nicely framed presidential photo, and the Panda poster that has been in my room since I was a new born baby I know oh so well that in my right mind this is not going to bring Brooke back, it is not going to help me find her. But I suppose I am not in my right mind. After tiring myself out I crumple down to the ground and tightly press my back against the wall.

Tears start streaming down my cheeks and in seconds my silent crying has become loud and obnoxious bawling. I pound my fists to the ground and realize that crying like a baby is not going to help me find Brooke. It's time for me to actually take some action. My watch reads 7:11, (Oh thank Heaven) she's been missing since 4:30 the time the meeting ended, I can't remember if two hours is enough time for the police to file a missing person's report I honestly can't remember how those things work, the last time we had to file a missing person's report was back in freshman year, second semester of College.

The boys and I got really drunk and stoned and despite Pete's moral values we decided to take a cruise around town. When we got home some time the next day we discovered that Garf was missing when we finally returned to the frat house, somehow it just didn't occur to us that he was missing during our outrageous activities, probably we were too drunk and stoned to notice. God knows how many hours we were out, but the police did help us set up a missing person's report. It turned out we left Garf at the gas station on the way to our activities. He hadn't even gone anywhere, by the time we returned he also took it as an opportunity to buy all the gas station snacks he could get his hands on. It all worked out, but I am not sure if this is going to work out, Brooke is very sick, she could be dead within seconds. I right away dial the police. "Los Angeles Police station" A man says, "What can I do for you?" He asks. I am so panicked that I can hardly think straight yet alone speak right.

"Canyoufileamissingperson'sreport?" I ask slurring it together like it is all one word. "Slow down son" the cop says, "I can't understand you" I clear my throat and take in a couple of deep breaths. "My wife is missing" I told him,

"Can you file a missing person's report?" "I'm sorry" The police officer says, "How long has your wife been missing?"

"Since 4:00" I say trying really really hard to keep it together even though it is pretty much impossible at this point.

"I'm sorry" the cop says, "But our rules state that we cannot file a missing persons report unless it's been 24-48 hours" "That's not fair!" I moan, "I need to find her now, she suffers from Lou Gehrig's Disease, her life could be in great danger"

"I don't do this for most people" The cop says, "But since your wife is sick, I'll give you two hours. If you find her let me know" Two hours that seems like almost an eternity, but I guess who am I to complain? At least I don't have to wait 24-48 hours. "Thank you so much" I say filled with gratitude. "Because I have to follow the rule book and all that, I will not file a missing persons report, but I will help you look for her, I do have tracking devices after all." Just then the home phone rings. It's Brooke, I know it is her. "I need to take this call" I tell the police.

"It's her, I know it's her it has to be her" I hang up instantly which I know is rude, especially for someone who offered to help me. I practically fly down the stairs. "Brooke hello?" I say as I answer the phone. "No sorry" A woman's voice says over the receiver. "It's just me"

"Whitney?" I ask, "I'm so sorry, Brooke's gone missing and she hasn't been answering any of my phone calls" "That makes two of us" Whitney says tearfully. "I've been trying to call her too. Do you think she's all right?" "I'I don't know" I stammer. Whitney clears her throat. "So I guess the reason I'm calling is to let you know Jude the twins and I and I are coming to LA" Time has just been going so fast, I've been so out of the loop with everything that I didn't even know she was pregnant and with twins none the less.

"Oh um congratulations, Twins that's awesome" "I thought Brooke told you, at the wedding, but I guess that's just Brooke's thing now isn't it?" She says bitterly, "Leave it to Brooke to keep things from people"

"When are you guys getting here?" I ask, "Saturday" Whitney says, "I really need to see Brooke and see if she's okay. It took a whole lot of coaxing from Jude, he's a really terrible traveler, but he knows how important Brooke is to me. Unfortunately I'm not important to her at all. I'm so unimportant to her that she can't even be bothered to answer any of my phone calls" I feel huge lumps form in the back of my throat, several huge lumps actually "I guess by that logic she doesn't care about me either, well hopefully you'll be able to see her"

"Don't say that!" Whitney snaps she is crying again. "Don't you EVER say that Ted. Don't even think it, as a matter a fact don't even think about thinking it. You will find her god damnit" "I'm having the police help me find her" I say, "Then what the actual fuck Ted?" She screeches into the receiver. She is such a god damn shrew. She is no longer speaking she is shrieking and really giving me a headache which is exactly the kind person I would love to have come visit. "You just about gave me four heart attacks" she says melodramatically. She sobs loudly. "I'm sorry" I say woodenly, "Listen Whitney, I'm just as worried as you are. She's been missing since 4:00, it's 7:30 now" "Oh my god" Whitney sobs. "Listen, if you need us to we can schedule our trip a couple of days sooner" "Thanks" I say. "I really got to go now" I'm not really sure why I am so anxious to go, maybe I just don't want to listen to Whitney's whining anymore. There is as I found out, no reason to need to get going, after all I have two hours to spare before I can even contact the police again. Two long boring worrisome hours, it is going to be a nightmare. Maybe the police think that the phone call I just got meant I found her. I drink a couple of glasses of Jack Daniels, and then pass out cold.

I am jolted awake by my cell phone blaring off, I have been asleep for such a long time that I swear it must be 9:30, and it must be the police calling. Relief takes over my body when I see that it is Brooke.

"Brooke?" I ask, "Oh my god are you all right?"

"Hi Ted" She says, her voice sounds strangely flat, "I need you to come get me" "Where are you?" I ask, "I don't know" She says with an even flatter affect to her voice.

"What do you mean you don't know?" I ask panicked. "Brooke what happened?" "I don't know Ted, but I'm scared. I'm scared Ted" "Why what's wrong?" I ask "I did something bad" she tells me, "And I don't know what it is" "I'll come and get you" I say, "If you tell me where you are" she then bursts into tears. "I don't know Ted" She cries. "What street are you on?" I ask. She sobs again, "I don't know, but I'm so scared"

"Damnit Brooke!" I snap suddenly becoming angry. "How do you expect me to find you if you don't even know what street you're on?" She bursts into fresh tears. "Never mind" I say still angry but also feeling a little bit guilty, I shouldn't yell at her when she's so sick and vulnerable.

"What building are you next to?" I ask. "Can you at least answer me that?" "No!" She sobs, "Fine!" I say trying to keep my anger at bay, "Can you describe the building for me?" "It's tall" She says tearfully. Well that sure isn't going to be any help there are billions of tall buildings in LA, that does not help in the slightest. "What color is the building?" I ask. "White" She says still sobbing. "That still isn't very helpful" I tell her I wonder what she expects me to do, does she expect me to look in front of every tall white building in the city of LA? No can do. "Old or new?" I ask. "What?" Brooke asks.

"The building I say is it old or new" "Old I think" I guess we are getting a little bit warmer but hardly. "Tell me one thing" I say, "Are you at City Hall?" "I don't know" She moans. "What's the matter with you?" I ask, "I don't know" She says again. I know there are several reasons for her to be so out of it but I suddenly think that it can be one of two things. As a matter a fact I know it has to be one of two things, either she was roofied (For realsies this time that is) or she is becoming demented already from ALS, I have been reading a little bit on ALS related dementia. Apparently it is very rare, but also apparently it can strike any ALS victim at any time. I really hope that is not what's happening to Brooke, she is 25 she is way too young to be losing her mind. It just doesn't seem fair that ALS Dementia didn't happen to Stephen Hawking when he was in his 70's but it could be happening to Brooke. I love Brooke to death and everything, but to be completely honest she never had much of a brain to begin with, she's always been an air headed ditz. She has always said that she never needed to have book smarts because apparently she has something she calls "Brooke smarts" which I must sadly say she doesn't really have that either, she is really clueless about herself. Really really clueless about her self I might add. She thinks she is too much of an extravert, but I've seen her at parties, she hardly speaks a word to other people, and when she does have to speak she always has to say everything in the fewest words possible. But it still worries me to think that she is losing the very little "Brooke smarts" she has.

"Ted?" Brooke asks, "Are you still there?" "Yeah I'm still here" I say. "Listen could you tell me what other buildings are in the area?" "I don't know" She says again. That is just her go to for everything all of a sudden. Just then there is a knock on the door. "Brooke, I got to go, but I promise I'm going to find you" I open the door to a couple of intimidating looking police men. "We're here to help you find your wife" The tall black one says. "I think I might know where to find her" I tell them. "I think she may be at city hall" I say, "She wasn't so clear about where she was but she said she was in front of an old tall white building" "Well that's not very helpful" the shorter Asian cop says. "There are many buildings that fit that description" "So what are we going to do?" I ask in dismay "Are we going to just look in front of every single building that fits that description" "Hey" the asian police man says holding out his hands.

"Do you want to find your wife?" "Are you kidding me?" I ask, "Snuh, isn't that the reason why I called you two here?" "I thought so" He says, "Now just let us do our job." "There is an easier way" The tall black cop says. "We have a tracking device or rather a GPS used to track people" He says pulling out a black very new aged gadget. "What's your wife's name?" He asks me as he pulls out the key pad.

"B'Brooke Sanders" I stammer. "It appears that their are at least 800 people named Brooke Sanders." The cop tells me. I face palm. "DAMNIT!" I shout throwing back my head in exasperation. "Calm down son" The tall black police says, "It's going to be okay"

"Are any of the 800 Brooke Sanders's outside of the LA City Hall?" I ask, "Hang on" He says, "First thing's first were going to narrow this down a bit, could you describe what she looks like?" "Blonde hair brown eyes" I say, "about 300 of the 800 Brooke Sanders's fit that description" That tracking device is one crazy machine, it knows practically everything about everyone and I'm not quite sure if that's a good thing or not. "Do you know her height and weight" "Holy shit that's personal" I say.

"You want to find her don't you?" The Asian cop asks. "Yes" I say, "Okay then" He says "she's 5'5" I'm really not sure about her weight, all I know is that she's practically skin and bones now. "And her weight?" The black cop asks. "Maybe 99 pounds, she's lost a lot of weight due to her disease" "About 38 out of the three hundred fit that description" "Fuck" I moan. "Do you know her maiden name" "Yes I say, It's Shy" "You're in luck" The Asian cop says. "There is only one Brooke Shy currently living in LA" That really doesn't surprise me, Shy is a very uncommon last name. It is more of a description than a name and I have to say it fits Brooke pretty darn well. The Asian cop clicks on Brooke's name. "Is this your girl?" He asks me showing me a picture of Brooke. I am over joyed, I have never felt more relief in my life. She's on the very corner of Cherry and Anaheim. He says, "That's quite a ways hang in there" So I suppose she is nowhere near City Hall like I expected. I never realized how cool police gadgets are especially in this day and age. We arrive at the exact destination and sure enough she is there. Her back is pressed against the back of a tall white building just like the one she has described. She is rocking back in fourth like a crazy person and her teeth are chattering. Her eyes are wide and frightened and her pupils are uneven. I touch her on the shoulder and she shrieks loudly. "It's all right Brooke" I say, "I'm right here" She then lays her head on my chest and sobs fitfully.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Brooke **

I am scared alone and cold. We do live in southern California and everything but I am freezing. Ted is nowhere to be seen. Maybe he knows about the horrible thing I've done, which I can not for the life of me remember what it is.

A mangy pigeon comes up to me. "You are a terrible person Brooke Sanders" It says to me, he then shows his sharp teeth and bright red eyes.

"HELP" I wale. I then notice that the pigeon has only come over because there are a couple of crumbs someone has left on the ground close to where I am sitting. It is just a normal pigeon, if I were in my right mind I would know that there is nothing remotely demonic about it. "Come back!" I call out to the pigeon.

"What did I do?" The pigeon just flies away. Right then another Pigeon comes up to me.

"Are you all right lady?" He asks, his voice is deep and sounds like that of an african american man. I look up to realize that the voice is not coming from the pigeon but from a tall black cop who is flashing a light in my face.

"Your husband was looking for you" He says. "Brooke thank god" Ted says coming towards me. He drops a kiss on the top of my head. "I'm scared" I cry, "I'm so scared Ted" Tears stream down my cheeks.

"Hold me!" I cry in a delicate little girl's voice. Ted wraps his arms around me and I cry in his arms. He gently lifts me from the ground. "Hold it" Another cop says, "Before you go we want to give you a quick breathalyzer test"

"You think she's on drugs?" Ted asks. "I think it is very likely that she is under the influence" The cop says.

"All right fine" Ted says "Do what you have to do" The asian cop hands me the breathalyzer.

"Exhale girl" He says. I inhale deeply and start coughing. "I said exhale not inhale" The cop says, he seems angry with me and I am not sure why. "You okay?" He asks me. All I can do is shrug my shoulders.

"All right let's try this again" I exhale into the breathalyzer. "She's inhibriated all right" The cop says. "What did she take?" Ted asks, "I don't know, but definitely something, she'll probably be able to sleep it off"

"I'm sorry" I say over and over again. I don't remember taking drugs of any sort, I basically just remember going to the support group and ending up here, there is a huge gap in my memory of the in between events. I let Ted pick up my quivering body and carry me to the car. "You are a fucking bitch Brooke Shy" the black cop turns around and says to me. I shake my head as if I were just waking up from a strange dream. "What did you say?" I ask. "I said you're going to be just fine Brooke Shy"

"That's not what you said" I snap jerking myself to an upright position. "that's not what you said at all." It feels like people are being amazingly two faced with me. "Brooke hey it's okay babe" Ted says, stroking my hair.

"It's okay, it's okay" "That girl should burn in Hell" I hear the asian cop say to the driver. "Fuck you!" I snap getting to an upright position. "Brooke?" Ted asks,

"Are you all right sweetie?" I snap back into reality for a quick second, or I guess I should say I'm just a tiny bit less out of it then before. The cops are driving quietly no one has said anything. I am terrified about what the drug is doing to me, and embarrassed as shit about my little outburst.

Also I am feeling ultra zonked which I guess makes sense seeing that I am drugged to high heaven. I do not remember taking anything, all I can remember was entering and sitting down at a support group, everything else is just black. I must have blacked out for quite a while. Before I know it we are back at home.

"Thank you so much" Ted says. "Can I have a bath?" I ask in a meek scared little girl voice. "Of course" Ted says. that is the last thing I remember before I black out once again.

I wake up with the worst kind of hangover. My head pounds like a bag of bricks as I try to piece together the tiny shards of memory of what has happened last night. Right now all I can remember is having Sushi with Peyton. I feel like a dirty whore, even though technically I am not a whore because Peyton and I didn't make out, or did we, I honestly can not remember. Ted knocks on my door. "Brooke you awake?" He asks. "Yeah I'm awake" I say, he sits on the side of my bed.

"So" He starts. "What happened?" I knew it was coming. "I um" I say "I was with some friends" "That you met in the support group?" He says, "Yes"

"Are you okay?" He asks me again,

"Were you roofied?" "No I don't think it was anything like that"

"Did you guys go to a rave" "I don't remember" I wail, all I know is I have a splitting headache and Ted and just the idea of Whitney is making it worse. "Listen Whitney and Jude are coming into town tonight"

"What?" I cry. I can feel my heart seep low into my chest. As far as I know Whitney thinks I'm fine. She knows I don't have AIDS after all. "When is she coming?" I ask. Chills run down my spine. It is so like Whitney to just show up without calling. That is one of the main reasons why she is so good at surprise parties.

"Could you please cancel?" I ask "Brooke I panicked" He says,

"I didn't know what to tell her" "I don't want to see Whitney and Jude" I snap, "Fuck when are they coming?" I ask,

"Tomorrow" "Will you please call her and tell her not to come?" I plead

"It's too late" "Her plain will be in at 3:00" "Fuck!" I snap again.

"She's really worried about you" Ted says. "This is just so last minute as shit" I am in no mood whatsoever to speak or even look at Whitney. Just my luck the phone rings in an instant.

"Hey Whitney" Ted says. Whitney is screaming something inaudible. Ted sets down the phone. "She say's her plain will be in tonight" "What?" I cry. "Ted We can't have guests, this is not the time."

"Well then maybe answer your god damn phone!" He snaps, suddenly he is angry at me. "Both Whitney and I have been trying to reach you, we've both been trying to call you all night. But you wouldn't pick up your god damn phone. You still haven't told me what happened. What did happen anyhow?" "I don't know" I cry, "I honestly don't know" "All I'm getting" Ted says,

"Is that you met up at some support group and then you got wasted Is that all you can remember" "Pretty much" I say. Ted grabs a whisp of my hair. "You were pretty darn shit faced" He says,

"Do you think you can explain what was going on?" "No!" I cry, "And no I don't want Whitney coming here god damnit! Where is she supposed to sleep anyway?"

"Hey take it easy" Ted says, "We have a guest room" I cover my eyes with my hands. "Oh my god Ted" I cry, "This is just so last minute, It's not going to work."

"Why the fuck didn't you answer your god damn phone?" Ted asked. "Could you please cancel Whitney for me?" I ask. "please?" "I can't cancel Whitney" He says,

"She's already bought the tickets" "my god she has?" I cry burying my face with my eyes. "Why couldn't she have made it a day later? Or maybe not at all" "Well maybe because someone wasn't answering their phone" Ted says throwing the cell phone at me, "You got millions of calls from Whitney" He says, "And within the last half hour, you got a call from some person named Peyton, I'm really not sure whether that's a girl or a boy, that name can go either way"

"Peyton?" I ask my voice coming out squeaky. "Don't worry" Ted says, "I didn't open your text, I'll let you see what Peyton wants" I open my phone. Message from Peyton:

"Brooke, RUOK?" it reads, then another message appears, "Where did you go last night?" I am trying to rack my brain around whether or not that text meant we had sex or not. All I can remember is going to his house and getting wasted and then ending up on the street it was such a nightmare. And how in the fuck am I ever going to get all of this past my husband. Ted is real scary when he wants to be. I flap down my phone instantly.

"What's going on Brooke?" Ted asks. "Just a friend from Support group" I lie, half lie anyway, he is my friend and he is from support group. But just my friend? Hardly. just then another text message beeps. Peyton: Hi!" I see I have not only gotten a number of texts from Peyton, but I also have a new voicemail. I brace myself hoping it is not Peyton. I punch in my password. Just my luck it is the exact person I do not want to hear from.

"Brooke hey, this is Peyton, I'm just calling to make sure you got back home okay, please please call me when you get this message, I'm really worried about you and I really want to know if you are okay" I send him a quick message, "I'm fine, I found my way home" I say, The answering machine runs out. Now my phone is ringing. Fuckfuckfuck. I flip up my phone and speak of the devil (No pun intended with the rhyming names) once again.

"Brooke it's me" He says. "Oh my god" I cry, "Could you keep it a little quieter?" "What's going on?" Peyton asks.

"Are you all right? Why are you whispering? What's wrong?" "Yeah I'm fine I'm at home, this really isn't a good time" "I got your message, you sounded kind of out of it" He says, "How are the side effects?" He asks "This isn't a good time" I say, "I'm um, my roommate and I are having company" As soon as I say that I hang up. Ted stares at me with an odd look, "It's not what you think" I say "I'I mean he's just my friend, I mean she or he or whatever" Ted gives me an odd look. "It's nothing" I say smiling helplessly, "Ted just shrugs, opens a can of coke lays outside on our little makeshift hammock. "Ted I can explain" I say, letting myself out the screen door. "Ted shrugs once again,

"You were gone, you were with a guy, there's nothing more to say" He says "Aside from Damnit. Damnit Brooke!" He crushes the can with his fists. "That god damn support group.' "Nothing happened." I tell him at least I am sure in my mind that nothing happened. There are no memories but then again there are no memories.

"Who is Peyton!" Ted asks folding his arms across his chest. "He or she or It's nobody" Ted face palms. "Cut out all that crap" He says "I know it's a guy, I could here his voice just fine, you were on speakerphone for gods sake. "Ted he's a friend" I say, "Nothing but as a matter a fact so just leave it alone"

"Are you sure?" He asks. "Yes" I say and that is that. For some reason Ted just keeps going. "Can you describe what this person looks like?" He asks. "Why does that matter?" I ask.

"oh it matters all right" Ted says. "Does it though?" I ask. "Damnit Brooke!" Ted says, "Stop playing games with me an answer the god damn question" I should have used that as a possibility to say that Peyton is in fact very ugly, hideous for that matter, I should have just lied and said he is a morbidly obese guy with severe acne and a hideous neck beard, who never shaves his face or his armpits. I should have turned him into one of those Aristocrat jokes for gods sake, (Well okay maybe I should have said he was just a normal bland looking guy if nothing else) Yet I find myself saying neither of the above. "He's the hottest guy I've ever seen" I watch as Ted's jaw drops open. "Shit shit shit" I say. "I agree" Ted snaps,

"Shit" Why do I have to be so dumb I can't help wonder to myself. Ted walks off. "Ted wait" I call I get out of bed and trip over my top covers. "He meant nothing to me!" I say breathlessly as I find him in the kitchen.

"Good Ted snaps, good to know" "You might want to pack a suitcase" I say. "God damnit Brooke" Ted says, "It's not you I'm mad at, it's that creep Peyton." My jaw drops open, how is it that he is not mad at me? How is it that he is taking it all out on Peyton without even knowing the guy" I mean who the fuck does he think he is taking advantage of you when you're so sick and vulnerable, of course he's sick and vulnerable too"

"That's disgusting" I snap, I feel I have to defend Peyton, not because sneaking of with him was right by any stretch of the imagination, but because it would be real sociopathic for me to go around leading my husband to believe that Peyton is a terrible person who takes advantage of people.

"What are you thinking? What are you thinking for that matter. You know nothing about Peyton. You only know his name that's it. How in the world did you get that idea from just the caller ID. My God Ted that is the most presumptuous assumption I have ever heard. You just throw Peyton under a fucking bus.

"Well you were out for a long time, and you were drugged as shit and you got a bunch of calls from some mysterious guy what else was I supposed to think? Why would you do that? Why would you fucking do that?" Well then that changes everything" Ted says turning to the door. "God damnit Brooke" I try lying again. "I did not have feelings for him" I say. It is a week argument but I really don't have all that much to work with.

"Are you sure?" Ted asks. "Because I'm really not so sure you are. You're a hot girl, he's a hot guy. Why wouldn't you be in to that?" "Oh my god Ted" I cry, "I'm wearing a wedding ring, nothing happened" "You can't know that" Ted says, "Because obviously you were wasted, he probably did all kinds of things with you. So I guess now you've not only got a hot guy, you've got a hot guy with Lou Gehrig's Disease. How on Earth am I ever going to top that?" I can feel my face start to crumple.

"And for another thing" He says tapping his ring finger. My jaw drops open when I see that I am not wearing my ring. Where could it have gone? Now I am in a complete state of panic, and there is nothing, nothing I can do to back me up on this. All I can do is crumple down to the floor and start crying. Just then our home phone starts going off.

"I'll get it" I sob and sob for hours on end "Fuck fuck fuck" I say through tears. Ted stomps upstairs. "It's Whitney she said her plains got here early she wants me to pick her up at the airport, but I'll tell you one thing. As soon as she and Jude head back to Raliegh, we are taking a break. You hear me Brooke? we're taking a break?"

"Y'you mean it's over?" I sob. Ted just walks off saying nothing at all which is even worse then anything else I could have possibly imagined. Then he turns around sharply and finally speaks again.

"Roommates Brooke?" He asks. "W'what?" I ask. "You said on the phone to Peyton" He holds up quotation marks, "My room mate and I have company" "Damnit!" I snap again.

"Real Classy Brooke" He says, tears are suddenly forming in his eyes. "Before I go?" He says, he then does something that really breaks my heart. He removes the wedding ring, the one that I had so much damn trouble putting on and that his second cousin twice removed had to put on instead.

"Won't be needing this anymore" My jaw drops open. "Close your god damn mouth" He says, hatefully. He then stomps off and doesn't dare look behind him. Why couldn't I have used the aristocrat joke with Peyton? I think to myself, or at least why couldn't I have just said that he was an ugly older guy or just a very meh looking guy? Why the fuck did I have to actually tell it like it was. I get up shakily from the ground and grab my phone. I pretend to leave Peyton a message, key word pretend all though I really won't have all that much to lose by telling him the truth, except for that fact that I really want to see him again. I am sobbing like a complete idiot, so it is really impossible for me to get my thoughts out. I hold the cellphone up to my ear.

"Hey Peyton, it's me Brooke. There's something I need to tell you." I pause for a long dramatic moment "I'm married" I inhale deeply as I close my my eyes and let tears spring down my cheeks. There's nothing in the world that hurts more then a guilty conscious, the more my conscious aches the more I feel the need to call Peyton yet at the same time the more I feel afraid. My hand quivers uncontrollably as I punch in his number. Hot yet to be shed tears sting my eyes like burning acid.

"Brooke hey!" Peyton says, I clear my throat. "Hey what's going on?" He asks "Peyton I" My mouth is dry. "You what?" He asks. My throat closes up on me, my hands become sweaty and the hairs on my back stick straight up.

"Brooke are you okay?" He asks, "I, I got to go" I say. I then turn my phone off and slap my self in the face several times like a mad woman. I then take a deep breath and go into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. I have to hold it together for Whitney. I would hate to have her see me so vulnerable. I clumsily make my way down the stairs, and sit on the front stair trying, as impossible as it may be not to cry. I bite down so hard on my lip that I can feel myself start to bleed. I then hear a bunch of very angry footsteps charge up the stares of the porch.

My heart sinks when I realize I am in for an all you can eat buffet of torture. No one is saying anything. I wonder if Ted even gave Whitney a heads up that I am a horrible no good cheater. I'm guessing not because he said we were going to try our best to keep it together for Jude and Whitney. The fact that he stomped off without saying a word to me gave me a clear as glass message, that message being I am dead to him. I am probably so dead to him that he doesn't even care enough to tell Whitney that I am a cheater. The feeling of being dead to my husband hurts much worse then him just being mad at me. When he comes in he walks past me as if I don't exist. It sends ginormous chills up my spine. I don't matter to him. I'm nothing. What is all the more confusing is the fact that Whitney is smiling at me. She looks very happy to see me. "Hi!" I say pathetically.

My voice sounds flat and far away. Whitney's sickening smile widens into an even larger sickening smile. Her smile causes the acid in my stomach to curdle like sour milk. "Why don't we go into the living room and chat" Ted says, "I'll get us a couple of beers" He once again looks right through me. "I'll just have a water" Jude says. He already looks very uncomfortable about the idea of traveling. He is acting like the whole conversation of me cheating on him has never taken place. "Oh my god" Whitney says over enthusiastically. "Brooke how are you?" She asks, smiling even wider. "Let me give you a hug, I haven't seen you in forever"

I am feeling a tiny bit more relaxed but not much. "It's so good to see you. We have so much catching up to do" This whole thing is becoming more surreal by the second. I smile a nervous smile as she throws her arms around me giving me an ultra generous squeeze hug. She then with all the force she has in her takes her high heel shoe and stomps on my bare foot so hard I swear I feel it crack. She then releases her arms from me and slaps me in the face with her bare hand. I really should have seen that coming. After all Whitney is very stealthy. On the other hand I have known her since preschool, I should have known that she was going to do something ultra stealthy, she has been a stealthy snake of a human being since 5th grade. Hell her stealthiness might even date back quite a bit further. Even back in preschool she had a way of acting super kind to a girl who took her doll and then biting her so hard across the arm it bled. She was like that in high school and in college as well, only then she was always much more verbal then she was physical. I feel incredibly stupid for not being able to recognize that smile. I stand there vulnerably. I am in shock but I think most of that is based on the fact that I was just so shockingly stupid just then.

I can see Jude is feeling the same way as his jaw drops open as he grabs on to her arms and pulls her away from me. Whitney turns her head and sticks her nose high up in the air.

"Humph!" She says loudly. "What the fuck Whitney?" Jude cries.

"Are you all right Brooke?" He asks, as I place my hand to my face where she's slapped me. It stings like crazy and I'm almost positive it has left a huge red mark. I do not say a single thing. What is there to say? She turns her anger over to her husband. "Are you serious Jude? Are you fucking serious Julian Edward Hughston" She snaps, "Seriously taking her side? You were just as angry at her as me. We trashed her together god damnit! How dare you go and take her side all of a sudden? That's so like you god damnit so fucking like you" She slams down the luggage she has been carrying. Whitney glares at me with her crazy eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?" She snaps, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" When she get's angry her voice comes out sounding very shrill.

"Tell you what?" I ask finally finding my voice, only it doesn't feel or sound like my voice because I am that far removed from my body. I give her a shy nervous little smile. "Tell you what?" Whitney snaps,

"Tell you WHAT? Don't you dare play EVEN dumber with me Brooke Veronica Sanders! Where do I begin?" She throws her head back like an overly dramatic drama queen. "Where the hell do I begin? I guess I'll start here. I had to hear it through the grapevine that you had Lou Gehrig's Disease. The god damn fucking grapevine. To be incredibly specific, I had to hear it from that complete creep of nature Assjuice. I am your best friend and it hurts me. Really fucking hurts me that you would keep something like ALS from me." She then starts to be come all corny and sentimental through her anger but still angry none the less, "I fucking love you Brooke Sanders." At this point her voice is broken and the water works are in session. "You mean so fucking much to me God Damnit! You are a fucking really important friend God fucking damnit" Now she is crying all right.

"I fucking treasure our God Damn friendship!" She sure has a way with making herself sound like a character from a rated R soap opera. She is quite talented at it I must say. She wipes her eyes with a tissue she is carrying in her pocket and blows her nose loudly. "But apparently I don't matter at all to you!"

"I was going to tell you" I say, my voice again comes out sounding weak and timid, it is barely louder then a faint whisper. "Oh you were going to tell me were you?" Whitney snaps, apparently she's got super good hearing. "When were you going to tell me? When the fuck were you going to tell me? When in the flying fuck" I can't believe I'm thinking about this in the midst of everything, but I am really fucking glad she's left her kids with a nanny. She swears like a sailor after all.

"Answer me god damnit!" She snaps. "Stop being fucking silent at me! You always do this to me! You always give me the fucking cold shoulder. I come all this way from Raeligh North Carolina which is on the other side of the god damn fucking country, and you can't even bother so much as to speak to me!" I clear my throat as if I am about to say something. "Oh my god!" Whitney says all sarcastically, "She speaks." My throat feels all dry once again and I cannot say a thing. "That's what I thought!" She says. "Nothing! You have nothing to say to me. That's just how you always were. People treat you like a spoiled rotten princess, they give and give and give to you, and you give nothing back" Bitterness falls from her lips. "Ted has been nothing but an excellent husband to you. I can imagine it's really hard for him given the situation. But what do you give back to him? You cheat on him. You fucking cheat on him with another man." My jaw drops open. "I'm going to get out some whiskey" Ted says heading towards the kitchen. "We may really need it" I follow him into the kitchen. "You told them?" I shriek! "Why would you do that? You said you weren't going to" "I never said anything of the sort" He snaps "You said you would try to keep it together for Jude and Whitney" I say bitterly.

"Well in that case" Ted says. "Oops!"


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: Ted**

I probably should feel bad about telling Jude and Whitney about the whole Peyton thing, but on the other hand, I do not feel bad not in the slightest in fact. As a matter a fact as much as I hate to admit it, I am quite enjoying Whitney's little freak out and with the Peyton thing she has even more material. As I go to the cupboard to get the Whiskey, I realize that that is the thing that will make this whole thing even more enjoyable. I am not a sociopath or anything and I really don't want to say Brooke deserves it or anything, but she totally does.

It took almost everything I had in me, muscles, joints, bones, guts to keep it together for Jude and Whitney. After all we had planned a lot of activities for the four of us, nothing too strenuous of course, seeing that Brooke can't really do strenuous at this point, but we were planning a full weekend at a borrowed beach house owned by Whitney's parents. It doesn't sound fun to me in the slightest especially not given the situation. They spot me right away.

"Where the fuck is Brooke?" Whitney asks. No Hi or anything

"She's resting" I lie. "I really hope she feels well enough for our weekend at the Beach house" She is smiling widely and doesn't sound anything like the angry uber bitch she was being on the phone yesterday. Her out of character happiness is however short lived. "Good lord she can't even be bothered to pick me up at the airport. Do I mean anything to her?" I try to keep it together a little longer. "She's not feeling well, you can understand that" "She has something like Lou Gehrig's Disease and you leave her alone all by herself?" Jude asks. "I would never do that to Whitney! You're a really crappy husband" he then puts his arm around Whitney's shoulder. "Babe do you mind if I use the restroom a minute? My stomach's not feeling so great. I'll be right back" They then kiss like they are the perfect couple it is disgusting. "It is a known fact that Jude suffers from severe traveler's diarrhea" Whitney tells me. I really didn't need to know that and I want to react the way I did when the woman blah blah blahed over the phone about her daughters Crohn's Disease, but I am able to resist.

"But of course he came with me, because he can't stay away from me, because he loves me so much" Fuck her. I think to myself. Jude returns quickly. "Let's go babe" He says kissing her once again. "Well I'm glad you two are happy!" I finally snap. "What the hell is your problem?" Jude snaps. "Forget it" I say. "Well obviously you're not happy" Whitney says, playing with Jude's hair, "You're going through something really tough, we're here for you guys" It is disgusting the way they are showing affection to each other. "You want to know why Brooke's not here?" I yell, "You want to know why I had to leave her at home?"

"Why?" Whitney asked "Because I'm fucking mad at her!" I shriek.

"You shouldn't be mad at her" Jude says, "It's really not her fault that she has Lou Gehrig's disease" "I know that!" I say throwing back my head in exasperation. "It's because she fucking cheated on me!" "What that's not cool!" Whitney says, "I know right?" I ask, "The reason why she wasn't answering either of our phone calls is because she was sleeping around with this guy Peyton that she met in her ALS support group" "What the fuck?" Whitney snapped. "What a god damn fucking ungrateful bitch!" "Yeah I know right?" I say. "You've been doing so much for her" Whitney says, "And that's how she repays you?" I'm not really sure how she knows that I've done a lot for her, but I assume it's probably pretty obvious. "I'm so glad Whitney and I aren't having that problem, and we never will" Jude says, putting his arm around Whitney's waste. He then kisses her again. It would be really fun to slap that damn fucktard. I don't think I have hated anyone as much as I hate Jude right now. This is my first introduction of him, and already he is making the worst impression humanly possible. Instead of being supportive he rubs it in my face how much better he is doing then me. He is disgusting and the fact that he has traveler's diarrhea is not even the half of it, even given the fact that it is gross

"God Jude!" Whitney says backing away from him.

"Sympathetic much? His wife just cheated on him for gods sake." "That sucks man" Jude says woodenly. "If Whitney ever cheated on me I'd probably murder her" he smiles when he says it, and it is really pretty sicko. Whitney nudges him very hard in the ribs. "Why do you have to be like this?" She says disgustedly. Jude clears his throat and rings his hands. "Oh come on Whitney" He says, "It was a joke" He laughs awkwardly.

"Whatever!" Whitney says. "A Little tasteless though don't you think? A lot tasteless actually. Do us all a big favor and never repeat that joke again ever" "Lighten up!" Jude says, "You know I'd never murder you! I love you too much, I wouldn't know what to do if you died you know you mean the world to me" Whitney backs away and makes a disgusted face. "I'm just saying that you mean a lot to me," Jude says "and if you ever cheated on me that would really suck" "Yich!" Whitney says. "You are sick you know that?" Jude hugs Whitney close to him. "Whitney would never cheat on me!" He says, "I would never let that happen, I would make very well sure it wouldn't. But also I know for a fact she wouldn't because we love each other so much. We spend every waking second with each other. I guess you and Brooke don't spend nearly enough time together with each other" Whitney backs away from him and rolls her eyes. "Let's get out of here shall we?" She asks.

"Yes" I say glumly, I know I am in for a very long weekend. I have no desire what soever to spend two nights in a cabin with three people who I absolutely hate. I feel a dull pain in my chest and in my stomach when it occurs to me that yes I actually hate Brooke. I am no longer in love with her. It sickens me to think that I actually agree with Whitney, she is nothing but a burden and she gives absolutely nothing back. The pains in my chest and stomach become even more intense when I realize that I hate Brooke for getting Lou Gehrig's Disease. I know damn well that it is not her fault, but I still absolutely despise that bitch. I feel like she is a terrible person, and I wish more then anything that I did not propose to her. The pain in my stomach suddenly turns from dull to very sharp, like a 500 pound horse with a shoe made of solid lead has kicked me, when I realize that Brooke does not love me. She must not. She cheated on me after all.

This guy Peyton must have given her something that I wasn't able to give to her. I am going to be sick all over the airport floor. Whitney waves her hand in my face. "What?" I ask. "I said let's go!" she says. "You okay man?" Jude asks picking up on my distress. The bitter words fall from my lips. "I hate Brooke!" I say. I feel tears fill my eyes, tears that I am ashamed to let fall. Whitney and Jude are so happy together, I can not bring myself to cry in front of them. "I don't care if I ever see her again" Suddenly the most revolting thought pops into my head. _I don't care if she dies of Lou Gehrig's Disease._ I don't dare say it out loud though, I hate myself for even allowing such a terrible thought to even cross my mind, but on the other hand it's how I feel, why should I punish myself for how I feel? I shouldn't and I don't. I go on a rampage of horrible thoughts. If I think about it, I really wouldn't care less if Peyton died of Lou Gehrig's Disease either. If they died the world would be less two horrible people. I feel guilty again for thinking it. Brooke is not a horrible person. She is genuinely a good person isn't she? My mind draws a complete blank when I realize that I can't think of a single reason as to why she is a good person. She really hasn't given anything back, she's been a fucking princess since our wedding. A God damn pretty pink princess, make that a pwetty pink pwintheth actually. Whitney is right. I do so much for her and in return she is a chronic bitch. I suddenly realize that I really can't say I hate Peyton. If anything I just feel sorry for him. I'm sure he is a nice normal guy and I'm sure it is Brooke's fault and Brooke's fault only. I really need to stop thinking these awful thoughts, but on the other hand why should I stop. After all I hate Brooke now. When we take a break, we may as well make it official. She can have Peyton all to herself now. As far as I know he is hers. He can have her. I pity him greatly.

We drive in silence. I am so distracted that I get lost on the way to our house. "You seem distracted" Whitney says, "Do you want me to drive?" "No!" I snap, I don't want any favors from that uninvited cuntwaffle. "Do you think I don't know the directions to my house?" I snap, "Well obviously you don't really!" Whitney says, I assume your house is not on a dead end in the middle of nowhere. It suddenly occurs to me that I am driving circles around a dead grassy narrow path, a dead end exactly like she has described. Man do I ever need help, I am so fucking distracted. "The only reason I'm saying this" Whitney says, "Is because I don't want us to get in an accident" "All right, All right" I Say, fine I'll let you drive" "You're pretty angry too" Jude says, "Maybe you shouldn't drive either. Let me drive?" "Are you kidding me?" Whitney snaps, "You always get lost, and even worse, you NEVER admit it, you NEVER want to ask for directions" "Well if I drive we're less likely to get in an accident" Jude says evenly. "We have a GPS" I tell them, I stop the car and hand the keys to Jude.

Now I am sitting on the couch drinking my whiskey and feeling more calm then I've ever felt in a long time. I am really enjoying this fight. No time to feel guilty. I am too relaxed and buzzed for that. Whitney is saying all the things I have been longing to say to that bitch Brooke, only I don't have to feel guilty because I am not the one saying them. It is completely guiltless. "You know what Brooke?" Whitney snaps. She then hisses the words bitterly. "You are dead to me, you hear me DEAD to me!" ice falls from her lips. Brooke then puts her hand to her mouth as if she are about to vomit, which is entirely pathetic but at the same time not pathetic at all, I could see how it would be stomach ache inducing to hear the words "Your dead to me!" "So if she's dead to you" I ask, "I guess you guys won't be staying to go to the lake cabin, I guess you guys are heading back to Raghlie then" Whitney stares her bitch face in my direction.

"Oh no!" She says, "We're going to my parents beach cabin all right, and if Brooke comes, then who cares she's dead to me after all, it would be like she's not even there at all" "I feel sick" Brooke suddenly announces, and then disappears to the bathroom. She's really doing it. She really is legitimately vomiting. I can hear it loudly and clearly, she is not by any means retching quietly. Whitney turns to me.

"Oh please!" She says. "I don't feel sorry for her at all do you?" "Hell no!" I say, I head to the kitchen to get another cup of Whiskey. "You know what?" I ask as I return to the living room, shot glass in hand. "She's dead to me too"

"I Could use one of those too" Whitney says sitting down on the couch next to me.

"I'd be happy to get that for you" I say walking to the kitchen. I get out a shot glass and the entire bottle of Whiskey, I can imagine the hangover tomorrow, but I really can't say I care. I am feeling better then I have in a really long time. I deserve this. God damnit do I fucking deserve this. "Here we are" I say as I place down the shot glasses and the bottle, drink up. "I wouldn't" Jude says, he is such a prude it's disgusting. "Think of the hangover tomorrow" "Hangover Shmangover" Whitney says pouring herself a glass of Whiskey. "Cheers!" She says holding up the shot glass and tapping it to mind. "Cheers" I say even though there's nothing to be cheerful. "To being a free man I guess" I say. "I'll drink to that" Whitney says, "You could do so much better" Jude sits on the sofa beside Whitney and me, "I'll take a drink too, but not Whiskey, I don't drink alcohol and not any juice either, that would only upset my traveler's diarrhea. Whitney and I both laugh. We are totally zen now, for us Whiskey is like Marjuana, everything is suddenly funnier and it shouldn't be because it is not by any means a funny situation. "Well we have bottled water in the fridge!" I tell him. "Help yourself" Jude goes into the kitchen and returns shortly. Brooke comes out of the bathroom, her eyes are red and her cheeks are puffy. "You okay?" Jude asks. "Who cares?" Whitney blurts out.

"Yeah who does?" I repeat. We high five each other as if we are best friends. Whitney is actually pretty darn cool drunk. Brooke turns around sharply and heads up to her room. She slams the door several times as if she is the one who is mad at us. It is really annoying because she has absolutely no right to be mad at us. She was the one who's done wrong after all. She then bursts into the loudest most obnoxious tears humanly possible. "I kind of feel bad for her you guys" Jude says, "I mean she sounds like someone's murdering her up there" "Don't worry about her" I say bitterly, "She'll be fine, she'll cry herself out eventually she can't cry forever, unless of course she can" Whitney laughs hysterically as if that is the funniest thing she's ever heard anyone say. "Oh c'mon Whitney" I say, "It really wasn't that funny was it?" I can now here not only the noises of Brooke waling loudly and hysterically, I can also here the noises of her breaking stuff in our room. God fucking damnit, there are already a ton of broken things in our room, thanks to my nervous breakdown. It is a hell of a good thing Brooke and I are rich and that we can as a matter a fact replace everything that's gotten wrecked, except of course for all the things that we can't because they are simply irreplaceable, for example there is no way Brooke can get another cheerleading trophy after all she worked so hard to get it. I feel kind of bad, but on the other hand it serves the bitch right. I then realize that I really shouldn't care so much about Brooke's stuff that I wrecked, because after all Brooke is dead to me, and we are making our divorce official and on top of everything there's the great biggy, the great biggy being I hate her. Suddenly our bedroom goes all quiet, eerily quiet. "Do you guys hear that?" Jude asks. "Here what?" I ask. "Exactly" Jude says "Nothing. It just got really quiet all of a sudden. Man I hope she's okay up there, maybe someone should go check on her and make sure" Whitney and I both roar with laughter. "Don't worry about her" I say flicking my hand. "She's fine" And Whitney and I burst into even more laughter.


End file.

Neighbors, Angst, Tragedy