Johnny & I : The Island by Daria Paus (hardest books to read txt) 📕

that. Instead, I changed the mood. If I stayed in this emotion I would either start to cry or say something which I’d come to regret later.

"Can I ask you anythin' I want? A question-game?"

He gulped, clearly taken aback by my sudden request.

"Uh—" He bit his lower lip and winced as if it hurt. Then he looked at me with a look that seemed to say ‘Really?’ When I didn't withdraw the request, he let out a shaky breath. Then he nodded. "Shoot."

I was at a loss for words. This was my big chance, and I had no idea what to say. There was so much I was curious about. So much I wanted to know. But I couldn’t ask the things burning in my mind without admitting that I’d spied on his private journal.

Say somethin' my inner voice urged. Are you stupid or what? 

"If you could have one wish what would it be?" I blurted.

He frowned, thinking. "Happiness . . . love . . . I don't know."

"That's two things."

He chuckled then. "True love."

I couldn't stop a small gasp from slipping out. My heart started to beat faster. I picked up a strand of my hair and twisted it around my finger.

"Biggest fear?"

"Uh—" He scratched his neck. "Many things . . ."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me to it. "I know, one thing."

I smiled.

"Flying."

My eyes widened. "You're jokin'?"

He shook his head.

"But you fly all the time."

"Doesn't mean I like it.”

"How do you handle that?" The whole point of this game was to not get stuck on one question, but I couldn't help myself.

"Sleeping pills and whiskey." He refused to look at me, and I started to feel bad.

"That ain't a very good combination."

He chuckled. "Gets me through it," he said. "Next question."

I stared at him, having a hard time shaking this new information. Though it was clear he didn't want to dwell too long on it so I forced myself to move on.

"Uhm . . . city or country life?"

He was silent for a long time and I took the opportunity to let my mind process the stuff I’d learned. Johnny Grey, scared of flying. Wow. How could he have kept such thing a secret from the rest of the world? Clearly, someone must have noticed something. At least the probable overconsumption of drugs to get through every long shift of traveling across the world. Was there a special reason for his fear, or was it was something he couldn't explain, like my strong and extremely inappropriate dislike toward spiders.

"Do I have to choose only one?"

His voice snapped me back to the moment. "Uh, yeah."

"City." He made it sound like a question, as if he wasn't sure he was actually telling the truth, but rather saying what was to be expected of him. I didn't allow myself to think about it.

"Blondes or brunettes?"

He chuckled then and I couldn't help but join in.

"With only those two options available I'd have to say brunettes, but—” He gave me a little wink that made my heart skip a beat.

“Deepest secret?”

He scoffed. “If I tell you that it wouldn’t be a secret.”

I got the hint. Too much, and too private.

“Favorite color?”

“Blue.”

I smiled.

“Worst trait?”

He laughed. “Too many.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he beat me to it.

“I can’t cook.”

My eyes opened wide in feigned surprise. “Really?”

“Aren’t you gonna say you already knew that?”

I laughed. Even though I’d figured it out the moment I’d laid eyes on his empty fridge, I doubted it was his worst trait. What about the cursing, the drinking, and the inability to plan more than five minutes ahead?

“Hey, you ok?”

“Fine.”

My eyes narrowed as I studied him. He gripped the table with one hand, and rested his head in the other. His skin glistened from a thin layer of sweat.

“Bullshit,” I snapped. “What’s wrong?”

He just shook his head, letting out a low groan. “Just need some water,” he whispered.

“I can get—" My voice died in my throat as he got up, took a few steps—then collapsed.

23

Fever

“You’re burnin’ up.” My hand trembled as I touched his forehead. “Why didn’t you say somethin’?”

He gazed at me through heavy eyelids, then shook his head before letting his eyes drift close again.

“Hey,” I shook him. “Johnny!”

He groaned, but managed to drag himself up into a half-sitting position. Watching him, I feared he was going to pass out again.

“Come on, stay with me,” I tried to keep my voice steady to hide the fear lurking under the surface. It was hard. Sitting there on the kitchen floor, thoughts started to creep into my mind, What ifs. . . Should haves. And no matter how I twisted and turned it, the problem remained. I’d made a big mistake. Hoping I hadn't risked Johnny's life by ignoring that boat wasn’t much of a comfort when he was almost unconscious in my arms.

“Let’s go back to bed, ok?”

We made it to the living room before he needed to sit down. I sat on the floor in front of the sofa, studying him as he sat, elbows on knees and head in hands. He must’ve sensed my gaze because he spoke without looking up at me.

“I’m fine. Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“You’re not even looking,” I protested.

He lifted his head and gave me a sleepy smile. “It’s just a fever. It’s nothing.”

I tried to smile. “Yeah.” I leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips. "I'll be back soon."

"Don't go."

The sudden urgency in his voice made me freeze. Slowly, I turned back to him. Taking his outstretched hand, I brought it to my lips and kissed it.

"I'll be right back, I won't leave you," I said. “Just goin’ to get some water.”

“Don’t go.”

What was he talking about? I was just going back to the kitchen, and he behaved like I was about to disappear forever. I didn’t understand, but something in his voice made the sadness in my heart come back a little stronger. I was