“Use me? Try to make yourself feel better?” Brooks spat out.
I felt sick. He was right. That’s exactly what I was doing and that wasn’t fair. To him or to me. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I was doing,” I said quietly, running my hands over my face in agitation. What was wrong with me?
I knew, on some level, Brooks had feelings for me. And I had counted on those feelings to help me force something on the both of us. I cared about Brooks, but my heart still belonged to someone else, whether I wanted it to or not. You can’t give away something that wasn’t yours to give in the first place.
Brooks blew out a noisy breath and looked as upset as I had ever seen him. I couldn’t believe that I’d screwed up everything between us all over again. Because of Maxx. It was always because of Maxx. I felt like a total idiot.
“I think I should go,” Brooks said, grabbing his keys from the coffee table.
“Wait, Brooks, please! Don’t hate me!” I pleaded.
Brooks stopped just before reaching the door. “I don’t hate you, Aubrey. I could never hate you. I just want more for you thanthis,” he said as he opened the door.
I wasn’t sure exactly whatthiswas. Maxx? Brooks? My pathetic attempts to use my best friend to feed my ego and make me feel better? Before I could say anything else, Brooks left.
chapter
eleven
maxx
iwas going home. I couldn’t decide if I was glad or freaking the fuck out. Part of me was ready because I had to be. But then I thought about what leaving meant. All the old temptations, all the old impulses, would be there, ready and waiting to pounce. I hoped I was strong enough to resist them this time around. I had spent the last thirty days convincing myself that I needed to stay, and now, here I was, convincing myself that I needed toleave.
Escape had always been my vice, and in many ways rehab had been just that. Clean and sober escapism. Now it was time to man up and face the music of what lay out there... in that place I couldn’t avoid forever. I folded my shirts into neat piles and then put them into the duffel bag I had brought with me. Dominic sat on his bed, looking morose.
“I’m really gonna miss you, man,” he said, his head hanging low. I had gone out of my way to not make any connections, knowing that wasn’t what I was there for. But my roommate had latched on to me anyway. He wasn’t a bad person. He was just more than a little oblivious.
“You’ll be all right. You don’t have much longer in here yourself. You’ll be out in no time,” I said, trying to be nice, even if I really wanted to tell him to stop being such a pussy and suck it up. But then I looked at Dominic. Really looked at him. He was that kid in high school who hung on the fringes, wanting to be liked and taking the teasing even though he knew people were laughingathim and notwithhim. This was a person who didn’t need anyone else giving him shit. Definitely not me, who wasn’t in a position to look down on anyone.
“I don’t know. My parents want me to do the full ninety days. They say I’m not ready to leave. That I’ll relapse,” he said miserably.
I rolled my eyes, wanting to smack the shit out of his ridiculous parents. They hadn’t a clue what real addiction looked like. If Dominic was addicted to anything, it was Ding Dongs and Doritos. The only thing his drug of choice had done was to make him gain about fifty pounds and fanatically watch reruns ofSouth Parkfor hours at a time.
I zipped up my duffel bag and threw it over my shoulder, determined that I would never make the Barton House my home again. “Look, Dominic, you seem like a decent guy. Don’t letanyonedecide your future for you. You’re in charge of what happens, no one else. If you think you need to be here, then stay. If you don’t, then check yourself out. And good luck. I mean that.”
Dominic gave me a watery smile. “Thanks, Maxx. That means a lot coming from you.” He sniffled.
I turned and headed down the hallway, my steps lighter than they had been in a long time.
I stopped outside a closed door and knocked loudly and with purpose. I squared my shoulders and stood up straight. I was ready for this.
I had to be.
“Come in,” a voice called from the other side. I pushed open the door and walked into Stacey’s cramped office. It smelled like blueberry muffins and was filled with enough frilly shit that made me wonder whether she farted rainbows.
“Maxx. Come in, have a seat.” I did as I was told, choosing the only option available, a chair covered in bright orange upholstery. “I see that you’re all packed and ready to go,” she commented, indicating the duffel at my feet.
I kicked it with my shoe and nodded. “Yep. Just here to get the official sign-off and then I’m out of your hair.”
Stacey typed something on her computer, and then papers started coming out of the printer. She looked up at me as she waited for the last of the paperwork to finish. “You’re sure you’re not interested in the full ninety-day program? Thirty days, while a great start, isn’t nearly as effective as the more intensive in-patient treatment plan,” she said, giving me the same shit she had been forcing down my throat for the last week.
I knew that she and the other counselors at Barton House thought I was making a huge mistake by not staying on for the longer program. And there was that small part of me that agreed with them. The whispering in my ear that told me that I wasn’t ready. The self-doubt was almost crippling. But the truth was that the longer I stayed, the harder it would be for me to fix what I had messed upout there.
There was one thing I knew for sure, deep in my bones: I was going to take my newfound sobriety seriously.
“I’ll call on Monday and set up an intake at the clinic downtown. I’ll stick to the outpatient treatment plan,” I promised, taking the pile of paperwork Stacey handed me.
She nodded, handing me a pen. “That’s good to hear, Maxx, though you understand that coping with addiction triggers is much harder once you’re back in your own environment. You have to make sure you have strategies in place to deal with them. It’ll be tough. There will be days you will want to use. So it’s extremely important that you keep those numbers on that last sheet handy, if you ever feel like you’re about to turn to drugs.”
