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“He’s doing drugs, Addy.” She let out a shaky exhale, and my stomach dropped. “He says it’s just recreational. That he has it under control. But if he does, I don’t see it.”
“You think that’s where the merch money went?”
She nodded. “Definitely.”
This was terrible, a huge concern.
A thought arose, and I asked, “Is anyone else doing drugs?”
She glanced away.
“Rach, look at me.” She turned her head, her expression troubled. “Collin?” I asked, though I didn’t even want to voice the thought.
“Sometimes.”
Holy shit.
Bile rising in my throat, I shoved what was left of my breakfast away. “Why didn’t I notice Andy or Collin doing drugs?”
“Because they didn’t want you to notice.” She shook her head sadly. “Remember how sneaky Mom was in the beginning?”
I nodded, thinking it through. “When did Collin start sometimes doing drugs? Just recently, or all the time we were together?”
Rachel gave me a sad look. “Whenever Andy would party, Collin would.”
I frowned. I hadn’t noticed because I’d been too busy with two jobs, our mom spiraling, and schoolwork. “He knows I hate drugs. Knows how bad they are. He saw Mom.” My eyes filled. “He knows better, Rach.”
“They both should know better.”
Rachel brought me to her, hugging me, and I threw my arms around her.
“It’s just coke most of the time,” she said softly. “I’ve never seen Collin shoot up like Andy does. But ...”
“But what?” I asked.
“Last night, I saw a couple of rigs in the van.”
Oh my God. They’re both shooting up?
“My fault,” I choked out. “This is on me.”
I froze, realizing that I was just like my dad. When he left us, my mother started doing drugs. I was toxic like him, like both of them.
“I thought it through before we came here, Rach. I barely slept that night at his house. I do think before I act. Does that make me a bad person?” Sobbing, I asked, “What else can I do?”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself.” She eased out of my embrace and took my hand. “It’s not because you broke up with him. It’s not because you aren’t good enough or strong enough to stop him. He was doing drugs while you were together and keeping that from you.”
“But you said he wasn’t shooting up then.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. But whatever, it’s all on him.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not responsible. He is. Just like Mom was responsible for herself.”
Wise words. But in the end, just words that didn’t remove blame. It was still all my fault.
“You look terrible.” Miranda said, staring at me sitting on a swing when she arrived at the park for our meeting.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes as I twisted the swing to and fro. “Not.”
“You really should come stay at my house.” The pinpoint heels of her expensive pumps digging into the wood shavings around the swing set, she took a seat on the swing beside me. “Please.”
