My feelings about my little brother were all messed up. Guilt and shame and anger. It was a festering cesspool of twisted, dark stuff inside of me.
The memory of Landon’s visit to the hospital, looking at me with absolute disgust while I lay in that bed, was still heavy on my mind, every day.
I had tried to talk to Landon, but he wouldn’t hear me. And after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence he had turned and left.
Finally, he sees you for the worthless shit you really are. He’ll hate you forever, Maxx. And you fucking deserve it,my uncle David had sneered before following my brother out of the room.
That had been the last time I had seen Landon. I had attempted to call him several times over the last few weeks but was put through to his voice mail every time. I knew it was completely intentional.
My brother was avoiding me. Not that I blamed him. I had disappointed him. Shattered the illusion he had held of his competent and capable older brother. I stopped being the guy he could count on, and I only became the failure. Knowing how he felt about me, therealme, was my biggest shame.
I had never intended for him to know the truth about me. He had been my responsibility since the death of our parents. I hadn’t wanted him exposed in any way to the ugly reality I lived in. But now he had been. And because of that, he wanted nothing to do with me.
“No, he’s not coming,” I said shortly, grinding the words out like glass in my mouth. I was done talking about him.
“Why not? It would be an excellent opportunity—”
I cut Pete off with an angry grunt. “He’s not coming, all right?”
Pete was clearly flustered by my response. I shrugged, unapologetic, and left him rambling about taking advantage of services or some shit. I shouldn’t have snapped at Pete. He was just doing his job, whatever that may be. But I couldn’t talk with him, or anyone, about Landon. I entered the conservatory and found a spot in the circle of chairs.
This support group was the same as the last one I had attended on the LU campus in a lot of ways. Same topics, same overly emotional talking points. Same mundane activities meant to make us “think.” But it was the one significant difference that made sitting here day after day extremely difficult.
I love you so much, Maxx. I do. And that’s why I can’t watch you kill yourself. I won’t.
It had been weeks since I had spoken to Aubrey, but the decimation remained. And I couldn’t think about Aubrey without thinking of other things. Gash. Marco. The club. The world I had lived in that was as much of an obsession as Aubrey could ever be.
And of course that made me think about the drugs. Which wasn’t surprising. I always thought about the drugs. The way they tasted on my tongue. The burn in my throat. Those horrible yet blissful moments while I waited for them to take over. The thrill as they wasted me away.
If losing Aubrey had almost destroyed me, then losing my drugs damn near ripped me apart. Not having that part of my life anymore had taken away the person I had spent years becoming. Without the drugs, without the club, who the fuck was I?
Who was Maxx Demelo, now that he had nothing to offer anyone?
“Everyone, take a seat.” Stacey, the drug addictions specialist, waved everyone to their places. I made a point not to make eye contact with those around me. Though I couldn’t help but stare at the chick on the other side of the room who looked as though she wanted to crawl out of her skin. She picked at her fingernails until they bled.
She looked like how I felt. Just about ready to lose my mind.
“Hey, man.” A hand touched my shoulder, and I acted instinctively. I shoved the hand away and snarled.
“Whoa! I was just saying hey. You all right?” Dominic looked at me apprehensively. I rolled my eyes but attempted a casual smile. He might smell bad, but I didn’t want to make him piss himself.
It was pretty obvious Dominic wanted to be my friend. I attracted needy dudes as much as the women.
A few months ago, I would have loved his brand of schoolboy ignorance. The clueless student living off Mommy and Daddy’s money and possessing zero common sense. I would have been able to sell him a quarter for the price of an ounce, and he wouldn’t have questioned me.
I used to eat guys like Dominic for breakfast.
I knew he was here because his parents thought his weed habit was a problem. It was almost laughable. He really had no idea the lengths some of us would go to for our addiction. How easy it was to lose everything for the high.
“You need to learn the concept of personal boundaries before you lose a hand,” I warned, though I tried to laugh to lessen the sting of my words.
He grinned and I smiled uneasily in return.
“Right. Personal boundaries. I get it,” Dominic chortled. “Did you do the homework? I wrote like five pages in my journal last night after you went to bed. Did you know you talk in your sleep? It’s pretty freaking funny. You talk a lot about a girl named Aubrey. Who is she? Is she your girlfriend? Whoever she is, you say her name a lot. You should tell me about her. She’s obviously important to you. At least you don’t snore. My roommate at school says I snore. Do I snore? It’s cool, you can tell me.”
My face started to burn red. What the hell? Any attempted goodwill toward my nosy roommate vanished. The sound of her name on his lips made me feel almost homicidal.
“Are you getting lunch after this? I think they’re serving fajitas. I freakingloveMexican food. You can tell me about Aubrey if you want. That’s what friends do. They talk about stuff.”
