He rolls his eyes. “Why do you care?” he asks in response. “I’m here, I’m letting you help.”
I shake my head and chew on more fries, hungrier than I realized.
Again, Carmine is looking at them. This time, I notice uncertainty on his face.
“Are you hungry or not?” I wave a hand. “You don’t need to be shy about it, man.”
He licks his lips and shakes his head again. “It’s not that.”
“Clearly. Again, I ask…what the fuck is going on?” I plink his coffee mug with my finger in a quick snap. “You look like you need ten of these just to function.”
He laughs a quick low laugh. “Coffee is not what I need to function, trust me.”
“I gathered that.”
“Can we just…” he sighs. “I don’t want to do this. I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” I insist. “You gotta talk to someone about it.”
“Why you? Why do you care? Why are you trying to yank it out of me. I’d rather you ask to blow me.”
I snort. “Baby, I wouldn’t ask to blow you. You’d be beggin’ me.”
Carmine tenses and his eyes lock with mine. It’s quiet between us for a moment. I sip my coffee slowly.
“I don’t know…how to do this,” he admits.
“Don’t think about,” I tell him. “Just talk.”
He scoffs. “Yeah, it’s that easy.”
It’s quiet again.
“You know, you’re just scared.”
He growls out at me. “I’m not scared of anything.”
“We both know that’s not true,” I tell him, leaning in even closer over the table. I can smell him; he does smell freshly showered. Pine and soap. The faint scent of alcohol still lingers though.
“I can’t get…through a day without drinking,” he finally says. His eyes are slightly glossy. “Ever since…what happened with my father.”
“You saw him in his own blood,” I remind him. “That’s bound to fuck someone up.”
“I’ve seen dead bodies before, Soren. I saw my mother’s,” he hisses slightly. “It’s never been like this before.”
I tilt my head to the side as I eye his face. I can tell he’s holding back emotion.
“He’s—he was your father. That’s different. You’re an adult. When you’re a kid…that shit hits different. Doesn’t really get to you till you’re older. Now you’re in charge of your whole family, that’s a big responsibility,” I explain.
He stares back at me. “Your parents died when you were a kid, right?” he asks.
I nod slowly. My chest squeezes slightly, but I ignore it. “Right in front of me.”
“How did you cope?”
I chuckle. “I was a fuckin’ hellion for the first two years. Tore every bedroom I ever had apart, nightmares every single night, and nearly got kicked out of school.”
He smiles slightly. “Sounds like it didn’t hit you as an adult then.”
