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I had to look away from Dane’s intense eyes.
“I…No. It doesn’t.”
Chapter 9
Huey
I lurched awake in the predawn light from a nightmare where I had relapsed.
I took a cold shower, did a hundred push-ups; I made breakfast, did a hundred crunches; I ate breakfast, did a hundred pushups. There was an itch beneath my skin. A raw ache like when I overdid it at the gym—muscle and sinew pushed beyond their previous limit—but inside.
Felix hadn’t stayed the night.
At my morning meeting everyone looked younger or older than usual, the kids just beginning their struggle and people who’d been struggling for decades.
Once, meetings had made me feel calm and centered. Then, they’d become a habit, like going to the gym. Lately, though, they sunk me into a draining exhaustion that no amount of rest would touch.
Where once I could listen to attendees and sponsees and hold their pain and struggle locked inside, thinking only of how to help, lately everything was leaking. Lately, I was…feeling things.
Vicki, the doyenne of this meeting, greeted me at the coffee urn as everyone was leaving and asked how Morgan was doing. She was the one who had suggested I’d be a good fit for them.
The night I’d canceled with Felix, Morgan had tried to get into the hospital to see their mom, but their older sister had told the hospital staff not to let them in. It had turned into a fight, then into Morgan getting kicked out by security. By the time I got to them, they were pacing manically in front of the hospital, desperate for relief from the pain of rejection.
“They’re staying with Helen for a while and have me on speed dial.”
“Well, if you’re supporting them, then they’ve got the best person on their side,” she said, and patted my arm.
My heart pounded heavily in my ears and a trickle of sweat slid down my spine, soaking into my waistband. My fingertips tingled.
“Are you—” Vicki began, but my ears were ringing and her voice was tinny. I needed to get out of that fucking basement, away from the smothering, acidic scent of cheap coffee and fear.
“Sorry, gotta go,” I garbled, her hand falling away as I bolted upstairs and slammed open the door, desperate for air.
I sucked in deep, slow breaths, counting to five with each in- and exhalation, and still felt like I was going to puke. Was I getting the flu?
I fumbled out my phone and texted Morgan: Just checking in. Reply soon and let me know how it’s going.
I texted Caleb: How did the stew experiment turn out? Did Theo like it?
Nothing from Morgan, but Caleb wrote back right away: It was pretty good—thanks for the recipe. Do I really mix all my food together or was Theo just giving me shit…
You do, I wrote back. Why bother with chewing, you should just blend it up. Meatloaf and mashed potato smoothie.
You’re a disgusting human being. Just because you drink smoothies to maintain a freakish muscle mass doesn’t mean the rest of us are willing to feed like babies.
I smiled.
You liked the smoothie I made you.
He sent back, Sigh fine maybe it wasn’t terrible -_-
My breathing had steadied.
I hitched up my gym bag and walked quickly away. If I could lose myself in a hard workout, I would feel back to normal.
I waved to Monroe, a trainer at the gym, in the entryway.
“Hey, man,” he said. “Have you changed your schedule? Haven’t seen you as much lately.”
“Nah. Just missed a few workouts.”
Felix tugging me back to bed, convincing me to stay. Talking with him longer than I’d intended, until there wasn’t time left to make it to the gym before a meeting. Choosing to go to a movie with him instead of working out.
“Wow, never thought I’d see the day Inhuman Huey missed a workout. Hope she’s worth it, whoever she is.”
He winked, high-fived me, and walked into the staff room.
I pushed myself until my muscles wouldn’t cooperate anymore, sweat stinging my eyes. In the shower, I kept my eyes squeezed tightly shut and let the scalding hot water wash my effort down the drain.
Before I’d gotten a block from the gym, my phone rang, the chiming sound I’d set for my sponsees. It was Jerome, one of my newer sponsees.
My stomach lurched, the sick, clammy feeling back in full force.
For the first time, everything in me resisted answering the call. For a moment, my arm lifted, like if I threw the phone out into the street it would vanish everything it connected me to.
I pressed my hand against my stomach and answered the call.
“This is Huey.”
“Hey, man,” Jerome drawled. “How’s it going?”
“Fine. How’re you doing, Jerome?”
“Oh, you know, uh…not the best.”
“Bad day?”
“Yeah.” His voice broke. “I’m scared as fuck that I can’t do this, man. That I won’t get to see Charlotte and Claire again. Fuck.”
