The Storms

Chapter nineteen

It had been a week since Brielle was rushed to the hospital. It turns out that her kidneys were just fine. She just had appendicitis. The doctors had to do surgery to remove it, and she left the hospital two days later. Today was Brielle's first day back at school, the doctor saying she had to stay home one more day.

"Are you sure you will be okay, sweetie?" asked Damien.

Brielle shook her head for what she felt like was the 1000th time. She went to open the door, but Blake stopped her and got out of the car, slamming his door and opening hers.

"Thank you," Brielle said. She gently got out of the car, seeing Francis and Aylee walking over to them.

"Here, let me take that," Francis said, taking Brielle's bag. She didn't even protest, knowing that bickering with Francis was useless. He would simply say no over and over again until the person he was arguing with gave up. Brielle found this out when he and she had an argument over who was better at archery. Francis said no repeatedly until Brielle just gave up.

As they walked into the school, people greeted Brielle and wished her a speedy recovery. Theo and Lola were waiting for her at her locker.

"Hey, Elle," Theo said once he saw her. Lola was right behind him, and she hugged Brielle gently.

Lola and Aylee had visited Brielle at the hospital, brushing her hair because it had fallen out of the braid Blake had done.

Lola eventually let go, and Theo hugged her next. "How are you feeling?" Theo asked.

"If one more person asks me if I am okay, I'm going to punch them," Brielle replied.

"Same old Brielle," Theo chuckled. He let go, and Brielle went to her locker. Francis handed her backpack, and she took out her books and got out the ones she needed. Francis then took it, and the bell rang, signaling everyone to go to class.

"Okay, I'll see you after class. Be careful, Bri," Blake said, kissing Brielle on the head and then walking away, the rest of the group following him.

Leaving Francis and Brielle alone, Francis suggested, "Well, since you can't do archery, how about you hold the arrows, and I shoot?"

"Sounds good," Brielle agreed. Francis pulled both his backpack and Brielle's backpack onto one shoulder, holding the one out for her, which she took. The two walked down the hallway, stopping at Francis's locker so he could get her bow.

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The day went on, and now Brielle was in the greenhouse, writing down the growth of a primrose in a plant journal. Francis had gotten a phone call and had excused himself from the room a few minutes ago. He came back into the room looking pale.

"Franny, what's wrong?" asked Brielle.

"That was my mom," Francis said, his voice shaking. "My father is dead."

Brielle's heart sank. "Is everything all right?" she asked, putting the water pitcher down.

"He was in a car accident," Francis said, choking back some tears. "He had too many drinks and ran into a tree."

"Oh my. I am so sorry. Francis, are you feeling alright? Your face is all red," Brielle asked, concerned.

"No. I'm just trying not to cry. My father always said that men don't cry in public," Francis said. Brielle took her hand from his shoulder and made him look at her. "You are allowed to cry. It doesn't matter what gender you are. You are still human."

At this, Francis cried, laying his head on Brielle's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, offering comfort. The two stayed like that for a while. When Francis pulled away to say something, Brielle listened intently.

"I can't even go to his funeral," Francis said.

"Why?" Brielle asked.

"Because no one can know where I am. I am going to be the next king of the Chester mafia. Your family would kill me," Francis explained.

Brielle sighed, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I have an idea," she said.

"What?" Francis asked.

"There was something that the company taught us if we lose someone in combat," Brielle said.

"What?" Francis inquired.

"We would look up into the sky and say goodbye," Brielle suggested.

"I can do that," Francis said, finding solace in the simple ritual.

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Brielle and Francis stood on his balcony, overlooking the city skyline. She had come over to his house after school to offer support.

"Dad," Francis said, his voice trembling as he looked up into the sky. "I am so angry at you for leaving me right now. But no one can control when they die. I will take care of mom and Aylee." His words trailed off, and he fell silent. He had never had a good relationship with his father, but he was still his dad.

Brielle reached out and gently touched his hand, a silent gesture of solidarity. Francis felt a rush of emotion, and tears welled up in his eyes once again. He leaned his head on her shoulder, finding comfort in her presence.