Addicted After All(158)

After another brief second, I focus on the cliff with my father. The tension is nearly gone, and he keeps his arm around my shoulders. The waterworks almost start up again.

In a matter of minutes, Ryke scales the rock with speed and precision. Twenty feet high. Then fifty. He’s to the top faster than those bottled pyramids probably took to build. With a sweaty chest and slicked back hair, he chugs another entire bottle of Ziff again.

The crowds roar in enthusiasm. It’s a picture-perfect moment, a brilliant ad for a magazine or a commercial. Everyone claps and cheers. Even my father. With a prideful smile, his palms smack together.

He likes Ryke. He may not want him with Daisy. But it’s hard not to admire Ryke’s bravery. He defies the impossible every time he climbs.

I try to let out a breath, but it tightens the moment Ryke begins to put on a harness, preparing to repel to the base. Ryke once mentioned that the most dangerous part of rock climbing isn’t the ascent but rather the descent. So my stomach flip-flops all over again.

And then he repels.

Down.

And down. And down.

When a big gust of wind blows through, the crowds seem to shush at the exact same moment. But it’s nothing to Ryke. Within seconds, he safely touches the grass. Then he stumbles over his own feet and reaches out for the rock face as a support.

I don’t understand what’s wrong.

Daisy sprints over to him, and when Ryke raises his head, I notice the color lost in his skin.

I find myself walking quickly towards him with my father, and I sense Lo, Connor, Rose, Sam and Poppy in tow.

If Lo didn’t have Moffy, he’d most likely run over to his brother, but we all end up surrounding Ryke around the same time. He’s hunched over with his hands braced on his thighs.

“Give me…a f*cking…minute.” He breathes heavily through his nose.

“You’re really pale,” Lo says, worry spreading across his face. “Was it that hard of a climb?”

Ryke shakes his head repeatedly. And then it hits me. He chugged two bottles of Ziff: disgusting, putrid, Blood Squall, Ziff.

The nausea surfaces in his features and he gags.

“Alright, let’s back up.” My father waves all of us to move away from Ryke. “Give him some room—”

He pukes, an avalanche of blue liquid.

All over Rose’s heels.

“Jesus Christ,” Lo curses.

Rose is horrified, and she immediately shuts her eyes. “This is not happening. This is not happening.” She inhales strongly, her collarbones protruding.

With his brows knotted in concern, Connor moves quickly, handing me Jane who begins to cry like a banshee.

“Connor!” Rose calls, permanently fixed to the grass, refusing to budge, open her eyes, and see the mess on her feet.

In seconds, Connor lifts Rose in his arms, cradling her while she tries to exhale normally. More than just destroying a good pair of heels, Rose’s OCD is kicking in. Connor’s lips brush her ear while he speaks fluid French, carrying her towards the nearest bathroom.

I’m sure my eyes are still hanging out of the sockets. I watch Ryke stumble again, but Daisy holds him by the waist from behind, keeping him upright. And this time, he vomits off to the side.

“Ryke, why are you sick?!” a reporter yells. Camera flashes go off like fireworks.

I jostle Jane in my arms while she cries for her mom and dad.

Sam tenses and says to my father, “We should move him away from the video cameras.”

“No, no.” My dad rests a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “His health comes first. Go find the medics. Get them over here as fast as possible.”

Sam nods once before he leaves with Poppy.

“Jane, shh,” I whisper. Where is her lion? Oh my God. She did not drop her lion in vomit. I search for a quick second but can’t find it anywhere.

Lo sidles next to me, keeping an eye on his brother who breathes shallowly. A Fizzle employee hands Ryke a water and he takes small sips.

“What a weird day,” Lo whispers.

“Yeah,” I nod in agreement, Jane still wailing in my ear. My dad apologized to me. I can’t say the words now, but I know I will later. It’s a phrase I didn’t ever expect to receive. Definitely not today of all days.

Even with babies in our arms and mayhem all around us, I have the sense that we’re the pillars standing still.

The kind of people that others may be able to lean on.