The Charlotte Chronicles (Jackson Boys 1)

It seems like hours before we get any news, which I figure must be good. Finally someone comes out and speaks to Charlotte’s parents. Whatever the news is I can’t hear because Dad is standing in front of Nick and me, like he’s blocking us from getting to them. When AnnMarie collapses into Bo, I try to break away from my dad but his big arm stops me.

The doctor walks over to us with Charlotte’s parents right behind him.

“How long has she been vomiting at school?” the doctor asks us. Nick and I share a glance, a guilty one, that my mom reads instantly.

“Nathan and Nicholas Jackson, what have you been hiding?” she asks sternly.

Nick pipes up immediately. “She didn’t want to say anything because she knew you would take her out of school.”

“This isn’t something you can keep to yourself. It’s not like drinking my Scotch on New Year’s Eve and pretending you don’t know anything about it. Pretending like Charlotte isn’t sick doesn’t make her better,” Dad growls

“I was making sure she rested too,” I stupidly say.

“Where?” Uncle Bo asks.

“The training room.” I look down at my shoes and realize for the first time that I’m standing here in a fucking tutu and wings. I tear the wings off and pull down the tutu so that I’m now just wearing gym shorts and a tank. Unfortunately, taking off the ridiculous costume doesn’t make me feel one ounce better. I shouldn’t have covered for her, but how was I supposed to know that she was too sick to be at school. Maybe I should’ve known. Maybe all this is my fault.

8

Charlotte

I’ve messed up bad. Dad’s face looks like a thundercloud, and Mom looks like I’ve danced all over her heart.

“You and those Jackson boys,” Mom mutters. I’ve never heard her refer to Nate and Nick as the “Jackson boys.” Those guys are like her sons.

“Mom, it’s my fault. I begged them to not tell you.”

Mom closes her eyes, I guess praying for patience. “Your doctor says your throat looks like you ate a Brillo Pad, it’s so red and sore. You must be vomiting daily, at least once or twice a day. I know you’ve been losing weight, but I thought maybe if I just kept quiet, you’d eat.”

I press my lips together to keep from crying. I was trying to be strong, but obviously I’d gone about it in a stupid way.

Mom continues, “So now, you’re going to have to be fed intravenously until your weight gets back up. You’re dehydrated and undernourished. We can’t allow you to go back to school, either.” She presses her face to my fingers. “Baby girl, we love you, and if you can’t take care of yourself then we’re going to do it for you.”

“I’m sorry.” My tears are coming, and her tears are wetting my hand. “I’m so sorry. I was stupid. Please don’t blame Nick or Nate. Please.”

“We won’t.” Dad finally breaks his silence and sits on the other side of the bed. “Those two would break their arms off before they’d hurt you intentionally. But, Charlotte, this is one reason we thought you might be better off leaving Chicago to get better. Those boys, they love you so much, but they’re too young to know how to help you. You three are bumbling around like blind mice inside a big maze. It’s okay when you’re all healthy but like it or not, you’re a sick little girl. You can get better but not by hiding stuff from us.”

I nod, but Dad presses on. “You oughta think what you are doing to those boys. Think hard because your illness could be distracting for them. Make it hard for them to study or focus on their other stuff because they’re too worried about you.”

He’s right. I look down at my sheet-covered body. Tonight Nick and Nate had to be talked into going to the Halloween party. If I hadn’t insisted, they would’ve stayed home. I can see it now. Every party or event or invitation will be weighed against whether I am well enough to go and if I’m not, they’ll both stay home. They’ll laugh and tell me that they’d rather be with me, but the truth is my illness will be making them prisoners—just like it is holding me hostage. I won’t do that to them. To either of them. I love them too much. I don’t want them to miss even one thing because I am sick. That seems too stupid for words.

I squeeze my mom’s hand. “I’ve always wanted to go to Switzerland.”

9

Nathan

Getting into Charlotte’s bedroom isn’t exactly easy but it’s doable. Both penthouse condos have security, but it’s outwardly focused, meaning that the cameras and alarms are on the elevators and the entrances. When Uncle Bo built the Randolph Towers, he put a long hallway between the kitchens of the two condos. There’s a service elevator there, but it shuts down every night at 7 pm. Anything sent up after that would set off an alarm.