The agonizing pain in his voice was unbearable. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him and leaned my cheek against his back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. “You weren’t a pussy for not killing yourself. I think it’s much braver to keep on living, in spite of all that stuff,” I said sincerely.
Clay covered my hands with his and held on. He stood rigidly against me. “So, how did you end up here, with Ruby?” I asked. Clay leaned his forehead against the windowpane.
“It all came to a head about six months ago. I had been partying pretty heavily. I was hanging out with my group of druggie friends and was so strung out on heroin and liquor that I never knew what the hell I was doing. I knew my parents were having a dinner party with some of my dad’s constituents, but I just didn’t give a shit. By that point, my parents had kicked me out of the main house. They were sick of seeing me drunk and high all the time, so I was living in the apartment over the garage.”
“Your parents knew you were having problems? And they never tried to get you help?” I interrupted, aghast at the lack of love he’d received from the people who were supposed to give it to him unconditionally.
Clay laughed, a hurt and humorless sound, almost a snarl. “Oh, they cared about the fact that I was strung out... but only when it affected them. You know, like if I was supposed to go to some function with them but was too wasted to make an appearance. Then they’d get pissed. But, other than that, their solution was to get me out of their hair. I guess, in their minds, if they weren’t seeing it, it wasn’t happening.”
“God, Clay, that’s horrible.” I couldn’t help myself. I thought of my own parents and knew that if I was in a dark place like that, they would do everything in their power to help me. I felt a new appreciation for my mom and dad and all they did for me.
“Yeah, well, they won’t be winning Parents of the Year anytime soon.” He squeezed my hands and pulled my arms away from him, putting space between us once again.
“Well, I took this girl back to my apartment. Lacey.” Oh, no, here came the jealousy again. I tamped it down with effort. “Lacey ran with my group of friends and was as drugged out as I was. We had just done lines of coke at a club in downtown Miami and we wanted to be... well, alone.” He looked over at me, as if gauging my reaction. I simply nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“We had sex, did some more coke, and broke open the bottle of gin I had stored in my kitchen. I have no idea what happened, but the next thing I knew I was freaking out.” Clay took another deep breath, running his hands through his dark curls over and over again.
“I remember smashing the mirror in my bathroom. And Lacey was just sitting there in her underwear, on my couch, doing lines as I’m tearing the apartment apart. Then the hurricane in my head just stopped. Next thing I knew, I had a piece of glass in my hand from the mirror and I was cutting my arm. Then my chest. Then my wrists.” He turned his hands over and showed me two deep scars, one on each wrist.
“Lacey must have come into the bathroom and seen all the blood. I heard her start screaming, but I was way past caring. The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital room, my hands strapped to a bed and my parents looking at me with absolute disgust. You see, my littleissueruined their dinner party. Was quite an embarrassment for them.”
I was shaking by the time he finished. Whatever I had thought was going on with Clay, this was the furthest thing from it. This guy had been to hell and back.
Clay opened the drawer at his bedside table and pulled out a bottle of pills, tossing them to me. I caught them and read the label.LITHIUM. I shook the bottle.
“You take these?” I asked.
Clay nodded. “I was hospitalized in Miami General’s psych unit for ninety days. After that, my parents shipped me up here to stay with my mom’s sister, Ruby. I hadn’t had much to do with her over the years. She’s not close with my mom anymore, particularly after she came out and got together with her girlfriend, Lisa. But she is the complete opposite of my parents. She actually gave a shit and offered her home to me. She and Lisa are the closest things to parents that I’ve ever had.”
I was relieved to hear that at least someone had cared about him.
“When I was in the hospital, the legion of psychiatrists diagnosed me with bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder. They prescribed me lithium for the bipolar. It’s supposed to help with the... swings. But therapy is supposed to be the only thing that helps with my otherproblems,” Clay sneered, obviously unconvinced this was what he needed. I ignored that minefield and opted to focus on the other part of his statement.
“The swings?” Bipolar disorder? Borderline personality disorder? I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Yeah, my manic swings. I go through major extremes in my mood. You know, happy one minute, depressed and suicidal the next. I suffer from rapid cycling. My mood swings are severe and hard to control and come on really close together. But a lot of that also has to do with the borderline issue. The chemical imbalance in my brain is one thing, but the crazy behavior extremes are something else entirely. Which is why I turned to drugs, according to my shrink. I wanted some sort of control over what I was feeling all the time. That’s also why I cut. It’s so strange to know the textbook explanation of why I’m doing things while having no control over doing them.”
I put the bottle of pills on his dresser and crossed my arms over my chest. This was a lot to absorb. I was in information overload. If I’d wanted to run the other way last night, that was nothing compared to the need to get the hell out of there that I was feeling now.
But what kind of friend would that make me if I bailed when he was finally sharing so much with me, even though it was scary and dark? If this were Rachel or Daniel, would I turn my back on them? I immediately knew that I wouldn’t. And, as I looked at Clay, my heart filled with love for him. Because, despite all that he had just told me, it didn’t change my feelings for him. Not one bit. I would stay, I would be there, and I wouldn’t run like a coward.
“Does the lithium help?” I asked him, coming to sit beside him on the bed. Letting him know with my body language that I wasn’t going to leave just because he’d unloaded some heavy shit in my lap. Besides, I had asked him for it.
“It does, I suppose, but I hate taking it. I feel like a fucking zombie on that stuff. Like I can’t feel anything. I’m just numb. I guess I’d rather be crazy than not feel anything at all,” he said. His answer scared me. So was he not taking his meds? Is that what had caused his psycho turn last night?
“But it’s dangerous not to take your medication, right? I mean, is that why... you know... last night happened?” I didn’t know how to word what I wanted to say. I was swimming in very deep waters here.
“I know that, Mags. I know I need to take them. But I just wanted to feel normal for once. To be a normal teenager. To have fun. Hang out with people who didn’t know anything about me or only wanted to use me for what I could give them. I wanted to feel what it was like to kiss you for the first time without being sucked into a medicated fog.”
Oh.
“But you need them. Last night was bad. I can’t stand seeing you do that to yourself,” I said quietly. I turned my body on the bed until I was facing him. He looked at me and rested his forehead against mine. “And I want to kiss you too, more than anything. But not when you’re like this.” I watched Clay’s shoulders sag with the rightness of what I was saying.
Because, as much as I wanted to take that step forward in our relationship, he needed me as a friend more. As much as that freaking sucked.
Clay cupped my cheek in his hand. “I am so tired of being this way. I just want it to stop. I want to be a guy you aren’t afraid to be around.”
I leaned my face into his hand and kissed his palm. “Then take your meds, Clay. I won’t watch you destroy yourself over some ridiculous idea that those pills make you less than who you are. You need them. And I need you... as my friend.”
