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Right.
“So, I’m sorry. For everything.”
For leaning on me? For wiggling your way deeper into my heart than I even thought possible? For making me hate myself? Are you sorry for that too?
I wince at the thoughts running rampant through my head, caught off guard by how bitter they taste, and look away.
“Jeremy?”
“Y-yeah, sorry. Um, I mean I forgive you.”
“Jer—”
“Look I really have to go. Gabe and I are going to this club, and I have to get ready, and?—”
“A-a club?”
Avoiding his gaze, I say, “I’m glad you’re doing better, and you’re home. I really am.”
“Jeremy.”
My eyes fall shut for a beat, and then I lift them, bracing myself as I stare into the eyes of the boy who merely breathes and breaks my heart.
“You’ll be careful?” Worry tinges his voice, and sharpens his features.
It’s the kind of worry most would laugh off. But I don’t, because I can’t see that worry and not see the true fear lurking behind it, the one that haunts him from deep within his bones, beyond what he’s willing to acknowledge.
It’s a fear I recognize, because it’s one I felt.
A knowingness that you can’t escape.
Bad shit does happen to good people.
Things can always get worse.
“I won’t be alone,” I say vaguely.
Jaw steeling, he nods shortly.
“Goodbye, Mason.”
“We’re still friends right?” he rushes out, just before I hang up.
We stare at each other for a long beat, before I finally whisper, “Always.”
His lashes flutter, and he nods, his expression still tight. He goes to open his mouth when somewhere behind him, a deep, unrecognizable voice calls out, and he twists his said, yelling, “Be right there.”
His gaze finds mine. “That’s Shawn.” His mouth twitches. “Met him in rehab. He’s living with us now. And he’s…”
I frown, trying to process all that. “He’s…what?”
“He’s my sponsor, I guess. We’re each other’s sponsors.”
That’s not exactly what I meant, but I still find myself asking, “Is that a good idea?”
He smirks, shrugging. “Maybe not. But…but he gets me.”
I nod. Okay then…
