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I crossed my arms and leaned in the doorway. “You didn’t answer your phone.”

“I think I broke it,” he said, rubbing his eyes. He looked around groggily. “Can you text Larissa for me? I don’t want her to come over.”

I let out a breath. “Sure. I brought food.”

“Can you get me a water?”

I went back out to the kitchen and filled his water bottle. I grabbed a few Motrin too. When I came back, he was poking at his shattered screen. He gave up and tossed it on the bed and leaned forward with his head in his hands.

“Here,” I said, setting the water and the pills on the nightstand.

“How much did she see?” he asked, his voice low.

“None of it? Jesse and Becca took you home. I drove Larissa.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

“What happened?” I asked. “I thought you weren’t drinking.”

“I don’t know.” He breathed out heavily, then scooted up and took the pills, wincing.

“You know you shouldn’t drink like that with the medication you’re on—”

“Now you tell me.”

I stood there, studying him. “This is the third time you’ve left her hanging like that.”

He squinted up at me.

“She was hungry,” I said. “You were supposed to take her to eat. You were her ride home.”

“Did she get something?” he asked.

“Yeah, she did. You left her at the park, and you bailed on her mom’s surgery—”

“Fuck, dude, what do you want from me?” he said, his tone clipped.

“I want you to be better,” I snapped.

He blinked at me.

I wiped a hand down my mouth. “I don’t know how to say this to you gently, so I’m just going to say it. You are going to lose her if you don’t get your shit together.”

“Did she say something?”

“No. But I know her. The only reason you still have a girlfriend this morning is because she didn’t see the shit you did last night.”

He stared at me with bloodshot eyes.

“She deserves better than this,” I said.

“It was a party. I just didn’t know the empty stomach/Prozac thing was gonna double it and pass it on. Trust me, it won’t happen again—”

“Good. Because she needs stability.”

“How do you know what she needs?”

“Because I fucking talk to her? Because I know what she grew up with? Because I see how she lives? She will leave. Do you hear me? And you won’t get a second chance.”