Page 24

“Helping would have been not letting him get this drunk in the first place.”

Despite my protests, Oscar slides his arm around Matty’s waist again, helping me pull him out the door. “I’m not his fucking keeper. Thought that was your job?”

“Fuck you.”

We get him down the stairs and outside together, the cold fall air making him shiver.

“Cold,” he whines, resting his cheek against my head, and I tighten my hold on him, so angry with myself that I could scream. I shouldn’t have let him go alone. This is my fault, my fault.

The Subaru comes into view, and Oscar helps me get him into the passenger seat. Once he’s buckled in, I slam the door before launching at Oscar, taking him by surprise when I shove him so hard he almost trips onto the grass.

“Why?! Why did you let her near him, huh? Why the fuck would you let that happen?!”

I’m yelling at this point, stomach threatening to unload as I punch my fist into his gut. Oscar raises his palms, backing away when I try to come after him again.

“Look, man, he’s an adult. I’m done with this shit. You’re welcome.”

As he walks away, I force myself to keep from kicking the car in a rage, shame making my eyes sting. It’s not the car’s fault or Oscar’s fault. Not even fucking Pika’s fault.

I hold all the blame.

And so does Valerie.

Getting behind the wheel, I peel out onto the street toward home, a familiar pressure beginning to expand in my chest. Matty’s head is lolled to the side, facing me, and when I hear him mumble my name, I turn to see his glassy gaze on me.

“M’sorry,” he slurs, reaching for my hand. Something in me cracks when I thread our pinkies together.

“No, Matty. I’m sorry.”

His brows furrow as he shakes his head, groaning with a wince when the movement probably hurts. “Didn’t mean it, Ducky. Like it when you follow me.”

“I’ll always follow you,” I answer, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill over.

My fault, my fault.

Once we’re home, pulling him out of the car is a struggle. He ends up on all fours, puking into the gutter, and even tries to sleep on the sidewalk. When I heave him up the steps toward our front door, he fights me, and I shout every curse in the book before finally getting him inside. The neighbors probably hate me.

“Goddammit, Matthew,” I growl when he bypasses the stairs, immediately crashing to the living room floor. Within seconds, he’s out, snoring loudly, and emotion clogs my throat as I gaze down at him.

My best friend. My big guy.

My lover.

Is he, though? We only barely touched.

And yet it was everything to me, everything I’ve been dreaming of in my fucked up fantasies since fifteen. But a few derogatory comments from two guys who barely share a brain cell between them was enough to send him spiraling. And what Valerie did…

Fuck. I hurt him. Dragged him down into my darkness when he belongs in the light. Aunt Pearl was right.

I ruin everything I touch.

“Sweet dreams, baby.” Rolling Matty onto his side in case he pukes again, I gently kiss his sweaty forehead before pulling off his shoes.

After covering him with a blanket from the couch, I slowly climb the stairs to the bathroom, everything around me feeling like an illusion. My head swims, thoughts like molasses, and I watch my hands dig underneath the sink as if they aren’t attached to my body. Like they belong to someone else.

Reaching behind chemicals and cleaning supplies, I pull out the pack of smokes and lighter that I hid when we moved in months ago.

In slow motion, I stand, turning my back to the mirror, as I pull a smoke from the carton and light it, pulse pounding in my ears. Nausea has my stomach roiling again, and I feel out of place and disconnected from myself. Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a long drag off the cigarette, trying my hardest to block out Pearl’s voice in my head as the sight of Matty lying on that bathroom floor imprints itself into my soul.