Stopping in front of the full-length mirror mounted on the bathroom door, Nick adjusted his baggy t-shirt, making sure it fully hid the black pouch for his chemo pump, and combed his fingers through his flattened hair, trying unsuccessfully to smooth down the cowlick that was sticking up on one side. All of a sudden, a pulse of terror rippled through him, and he pulled back his hands and held them out in front of him, palms up, expecting to find them covered in blonde hairs. Once again, though, they were bare. Letting out a gusty sigh, Nick wiped them on his pants anyway, gave his reflection a final once-over, and hesitantly left the refuge of his room.
Wobbling down the hall on his crutches, Nick stopped outside the door to Brian’s suite and rapped his knuckles lightly against it. He heard muffled noises from inside, and then the door swung open.
“Hey, Nicky!” Howie exclaimed with a grin. “Come on in!”
Nick managed a smile in return and made his way into the room to find Brian, AJ, and Kevin sprawled out on the floor in front of the TV, watching Adam Sandler’s Eight Crazy Nights, which they had evidently ordered on pay-per-view.
“Hey, Nick, you feeling better?” Brian asked, taking his eyes off the screen for one minute to glance at Nick.
“Yeah,” Nick replied plainly, sitting gingerly in a chair that was pushed up against the wall, somewhat apart from the others. “Uh... may I ask why you guys are watching a Hanukkah movie when it’s March and none of you are Jewish?”
They all ignored him, Brian and AJ suddenly exploding into gales of raucous laughter at whatever had just happened onscreen. Shrugging, Nick focused his attention on the movie as well, figuring the longer he could sit there in silence and not have to do or say anything, the better.
Unfortunately, in less than an hour, the movie had ended, and just as Nick was feeling the now familiar pangs of nausea assaulting his stomach again, Brian asked, “So, Nick, you ready to hear me and Howie’s new demo?”
“Uh... yeah, sure,” Nick replied.
“Great.” Grinning like a kid on Christmas, Brian jumped up, ran over to the CD player he had set up on the desk, and tapped the play button. Melodic piano music issued over the speakers, soon accompanied by Brian’s soft voice. Vaguely Nick heard Howie join in, his voice blending and harmonizing with Brian’s, but the queasiness in his stomach was increasing, seeming to pump bile up his throat.
One hand lightly massaging his stomach, he clamped his jaws shut and closed his eyes, praying he would not throw up. As he took deep breaths and struggled to hold power over his digestive system, he decided that that feeling, the feeling of having to throw up and not being able to, was one of the worst feelings in the world.
Ironically, as Brian and Howie’s song faded away, Nick’s nausea began to fade too. Relieved and congratulating himself on holding his own, he opened his eyes to find the others, mainly Brian and Howie, looking expectantly at him. He squirmed under their gaze, realizing he really hadn’t paid a bit of attention to the song. He couldn’t even recall the chorus.
“Well? What did you think?” Brian finally asked, waiting for Nick’s feedback.
“I... I liked it,” Nick said lamely.
Brian could tell he wasn’t being sincere; Nick saw the wounded look in his eyes. But Howie leaned forward and persisted, “So do you think it would be good for the album?”
“Um...” Nick struggled. “Yeah, maybe.”
Howie and Brian exchanged glances. AJ let out a snort. “Why don’t you say what you really mean, Nick?” he said sarcastically.
“It’s okay if you didn’t like it, Nicky,” Howie said quickly, jumping to Nick’s rescue. “Is there anything you think we could change to make it better? It’s only a rough cut, so maybe if we just-“
“No, I did like it!” Nick quickly insisted.
“You don’t have to cover it up, Nick, it’s okay,” Brian said calmly, but Nick knew that although his friend was trying not to show it, he was disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm with which his song had been met. Despite the fact that they had somewhat drifted apart over the past two years, Nick could still read Brian like a book, and he thought the ability was mutual. But apparently it wasn’t, for Brian didn’t seem to realize that Nick felt like crap and hadn’t even listened to enough of the song to form an opinion. Then again, that was a good thing, for it meant Nick was successfully hiding his illness.
“Well, I thought it was great,” AJ piped up, glancing darkly in Nick’s direction. Nick shot him daggers, wondering when the hell he had turned into such an asshole.
“Shut up, AJ,” Kevin muttered, his hawk eye immediately spotting the exchanged looks. “We don’t have to make any decisions yet. Let’s just leave this one as possibility, and we’ll come back to it later.”
The others slowly nodded, and Nick was off the hook. But he could feel the nausea making a reappearance, and he sighed, knowing he was going to have to get out of there. He couldn’t hold it back all night.
“I think I’m gonna head back to my room now,” he said quietly, slowly standing up. His stomach churned, and his shin burned, and he yearned to return to his room before the guys grew concerned and learned what was going on. He turned to get his crutches and earned a spurned look from Kevin, who said, his voice stern, “Uh, I don’t recall this meeting being adjourned yet, Nick.”
Nick gave Kevin a look of contempt and shot back, “We’re not the fucking Babysitter’s Club, Kev, and I didn’t realize this was a ‘meeting’. Yeah, some meeting - we all sit on our asses and watch fucking Hanukah movies, and then when I wanna leave, you decide I can’t because all of a sudden we’re doing something important. Well, screw that, I can fucking leave if I want to.”
The four others just gaped at him, Brian’s mouth slightly open in astonishment.
“Ooookay then,” Brian finally broke the silence, still staring at Nick with raised eyebrows.
AJ burst out laughing. “Damn, somebody’s hormonal! Is it that time of the month, Nicky? You PMSing, bud? Sheesh, go down a couple Midols and quit bitching, why don’t you?” he teased scornfully.
“Shut the fuck up, AJ,” Nick replied testily and started to hobble away from them.
“You know, Nick,” Kevin started after him, “the only reason we were watching a movie is because we were waiting for you to get your ass out of bed and come join us. Then as soon as you do, you’re ready to leave again. What the hell is going on with you? If you don’t want to do this, just say it now because the rest of us are pouring our hearts and souls into this, and we don’t want you around if you don’t give a shit.”
Nick hesitated, wanting to turn around and tell the truth, explain to them why he was acting the way he was, admit that he was sick and about ready to throw up because of the chemotherapy he was on for his bone cancer. But he didn’t. Keeping his mouth firmly shut to keep from spilling his guts (figuratively and literally), he only shook his head angrily and kept on walking, bile rising in his throat, and tears rising in his eyes.
***
