What it felt like to be stoned. Where I could get them if I really wanted them. Who I had to call to score as soon as possible. How soon it would be until I was so fucking high I thought I’d never come down again.
Then I’d get up and start my day, and those brief instances of exhilaration, thinking about my long-lost love, would evaporate under the weight of my new life. And I’d start feeling depressed. These were dark times, when I thought about the person I was before I had gone into rehab and how far I was from the confident, self-assured man I had thought I was. For some odd reason I couldn’t conjure up the bad and horrible about the person I used to be.
All I could remember in those bleak moments was how I had felt on top of the world. My body craved that feeling again. The physical addiction had subsided in the weeks since I had last used. What I fought against now, every second of every day, was all in my fucking head.
It was the memory that was the danger now. Everything was a trigger. Everything reminded me of what it was like when I was high. At times, particularly when I was alone, with only my wretched self for company, it was almost impossible to ignore the cravings.
With Marco continuing to blow up my phone the temptation was tantalizingly close. So I kept myself as busy as possible. Not being in school made that hard, but I filled my hours with legal things. Because Maxx Demelo had officially turned over a new leaf.
I had gone to the meeting with Leah Fletcher, who had walked me through the process of applying for some grants for “disadvantaged students.” She had me complete new paperwork and was able to scrounge up enough government aid to cover tuition for next semester. That would be enough time, if I busted my ass, to finish my degree.
But I still needed money to live. Pay bills. Keep a roof over my head. Food in my stomach. All of those necessities that were essential in order to stay alive so Icouldgraduate. It would be such an easy fix to call Gash and jump back into the club and my role there. The money was good, the adrenaline rush was even better.
But I couldn’t. Iwouldn’t.
So I had entered the world of the gainfully yet miserably employed. When I wasn’t shoveling horseshit at the stables just outside of town—a job I found on Craigslist—I was burning off my skin at the local coffee shop. The whole thing really sucked.
But I’d stick it out. I had to. Though one thing was for sure, walking the straight and narrow was much harder than I ever thought it would be.
In my efforts to be Maxx Demelo, Recovering Addict, there was one thing I still hadn’t done: go downtown to make an intake appointment for my outpatient counseling. I knew that I needed to. I had a meeting with my probation officer next week and it was important I show that I was continuing with treatment.
He had known I was in rehab but not that I’d almost died on a bathroom floor from a drug overdose. If he had been privy to that knowledge, I wouldn’t be sitting here on the outside. I’d be sitting in a jail cell feeling pretty damn sorry for myself.
It was Saturday morning and I woke up with four hours to kill before I had to be out at the horse stables. Kenny Wyatt, who ran the place, hadn’t been exactly impressed with my lack of general horse knowledge when I had called him up and asked him about the job. Luckily the horrible pay and even worse duties didn’t make “stable hand” very popular for those seeking employment. Kenny had hired me on the spot, though he was less than pleased about it.
There was nothing less attractive than coming home smelling like you had spent the day rolling around in manure. Feeling restless and unwilling to sit around my apartment chewing on my nails, I grabbed my car keys and headed out, no real destination in mind.
It was a sunny day and the streets were busy. My car petered along, clunking noisily. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw black smoke billowing out from the back.
I wished I had somewhere to go. I felt displaced and isolated. The only real connections I had ever had were with people who now wanted nothing to do with me. I picked up my phone but then dropped it again, knowing that I had no one to call. I felt a sharp pain in my chest that was a lot like loneliness. A memory resurfaced unbidden.
“I hate living here, Maxx.” Landon’s voice was small and timid. We had only been living with our uncle David for a few weeks, but I could already tell it was not going to be a good situation. Two hours after dropping us off at his house, he had left, with no indication of where he was going.
He had been gone for three days.
When he came back, he reeked of stale booze and looked as though he hadn’t showered in a month. He hadn’t acknowledged either of us and had instead gone to his room, where he proceeded to sleepfor the next twenty-four hours.
This was our life now. But at least I had Landon. And he had me.
He was the only thing in my stupid, messed-up life that made me feel good. Even if the responsibility of taking care of him felt like a noose around my neck sometimes.
I threw my arm around Landon’s shoulders. “Yeah, me, too, buddy, but we’ve got each other. We’ll be all right,” I promised, meaning it.
Landon was small for his age and barely came up to my shoulder. He was a clingy kid who followed me around everywhere. A normal teenage brother would have been annoyed by his tagalong brother. But we weren’t normal.
“Okay, Maxx,” Landon replied.
I knew he missed our dad. Even though he hadn’t been the best parent at the end, he was still the only parent Landon had ever known. He didn’t remember Mom. And I hated that.
Now I was the only parental figure that he had.
“You wanna learn how to check the oil in a car?” I asked, wanting to distract the poor kid from our shitty life.
Landon’s face brightened considerably. “Yeah!” he enthused, eager to spend time with his big brother.
“Come on, then, let’s go out in the garage. Dad’s old Mustang is out there.”
Just as I was about to get up, Landon wrapped his skinny arms around me and squeezed. “You’re the best brother ever, Maxx,” he said, his voice muffled as he pressed himself into my chest. I stiffened for a moment but I didn’t pull away.
