I haven’t smoked since I attempted a bong rip on my nineteenth birthday and wound up guzzling a mouthful of the putrid water instead. It was a complete and utter failure, which, sure, has kept me from trying again in any capacity. He doesn’t need to know that, though.
“This is the good shit, Elle. You’re probably already high. Try not to jump over the balcony.”
“Tried that a few too many times, have you?”
“Eh. It’s not that far a fall.”
I dig my elbow into his exposed side. He swats me away with little effort. “You’re reckless sometimes.”
“Yep.” It’s dull, almost numb.
Concern spears me. “Why did you throw a celebration party here if you didn’t want to enjoy it?”
“Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” I push up on my toes and look past him into the backyard, searching for someone but finding nothing. “The music from downstairs?”
He nods, staring directly ahead, almost . . . lost. “People. There are people here. There’s noise. The house isn’t quiet right now.”
A hot, sticky ball climbs up my throat. I move behind him and take the joint before he has a chance to hide it in the beer can or crush it beneath his shoe. My second inhale is slower than the first, and while I still strain a bit, I don’t choke on it.
“Did you know that when you, Mom, and Dad would go on those weekend trips for ball without me, I’d turn every light on in the house and play the TVs loud enough that it felt like I wasn’t alone? It’s the only way I could fall asleep.”
“There were a ton of those trips,” he croaks.
“I know.”
“I’m sorry. For how much baseball took from you.”
I shake my head, letting the ashes fall from the tip of the joint to the can. “I forgave you for that a long time ago. I’m just trying to tell you that I don’t like being alone, either. I still do that in my apartment, even now. Not to the same extent, but I’ll leave a light on and the volume low on the TV. Feeling lonely isn’t anything to be ashamed of. And if this party helps you feel less like it, then throw as many as you want.”
“I was a fucking asshole to you the other day, Elle. I’m saying so much shit I don’t mean lately, and I know I need to figure that out. I hate hurting you.”
“There are things I wish I hadn’t said, too. You’re not afraid to find love; you just haven’t yet. There’s a difference, and Ishouldn’t have used that against you. Especially not when I very well might be ruining the love I have managed to find. Somehow.”
I take another hit before passing the joint to Wes, knowing I’ll be a complete mess if I risk a fourth. There’s this perfect, soft calm travelling through me that I don’t want to risk losing yet. My arms sag over the railing as I drop my head and let my head move side to side.
“With Roman? You won’t. He’s in love with you,” Wes says, his voice no longer as cold.
“I know that. How do you?”
“Let’s just say we had a conversation in his office.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“He’s alive, isn’t he? You don’t need to worry about that. So, what gives?”
“How long have you been standing out here smoking?”
He chuckles. “This isn’t my first joint tonight.”
I turn my head and peek up at him through my messy hair. He’s grinning now, with cheeks flaming red beneath the balcony lights, and I take that as a good sign. He looks so young like this. Unbothered by anything. Like he was when he was just a kid, back before the weight of the world started to press him into the ground.
Just like that, I know I can’t risk telling him anything that’s going to ruin this for him. And that includes asking for details on our parents. They arenothis burden to bear. I refuse to make them his any longer when they’re slowly sucking the life from him.
I’m going to protect him from them the way I should already have been.
“I’m bi, Brielle,” he says a moment later.
