“Sorry,” I tell him dryly. “I couldn’t remember how long you told me to keep my mouth shut. It snapped back open, couldn’t stop it.”
Ryke throws his sweaty towel at my face.
I grab it and fling it back. “Hey, that brunette was two seconds from fainting. I did both of you a favor.”
Ryke shakes his head. “You did yourself a favor. Don’t pretend that insulting them was for me. I know your motives by now.”
“Yeah, and what’s that?”
“Isolate as many people as you can. Drive everyone away.” He zips his gym bag. “Not going to happen with me, not even if you run off every girl I come into contact with.”
I touch my chest. “You would abstain from sex just to be my brother? Wow. That’s generous, Ryke.” My dry humor barely darkens his eyes. I’m looking for a different reaction, one that comes with a fist to the face, but Ryke never goes there, even if he wants to.
“I’m your older brother no matter what,” he refutes. “Get that through your fucking head and maybe I wouldn’t have to repeat it all the damn time.”
“Can you say that again? I couldn’t hear you,” I quip.
He rolls his eyes, and then we both actually share a smile.
I check my watch subconsciously.
“She’s fine,” Ryke assures me.
“Look, you can pretend to know everything about me, but you can’t understand Lily the way I do.” I’ve watched her cry and shake in a bathroom because she craved sex—because she couldn’t have it. And she wouldn’t turn to me for help back then. Now that we’re together, I should have the power to take her pain away. But I don’t. Because she’s trying to control these impulses. And so I’m back where I started, watching her shake, watching her eyes grow big and wide, pleading for somethingmore.And I have to deny her that pleasure. Over and over.
“You forget that I was here while you were in rehab,” Ryke says. “I’ve seen her at a low.”
No, I never forget that. “Great.”
“You’d rather be there with her, I know that. But didn’t Rose tell you?—”
“I get it,” I snap. Our relationship needs room to breathe—Rose so verypointedlyput it the other day. I’m trying to give Lily more space. I’m making a conscious effort to change our co-dependent relationship.
That doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking suck.
But I have nowhere else to be but right here. No other invitations from friends (I have none) or family (my father practically disowned me). No job. No school. I am a worthless piece of shit.I grimace and turn that into a half-smile, shaking my head. I chug half of my water to drown these stupid thoughts.
“Have you started taking Antabuse yet?” Ryke asks.
The doctors at rehab prescribed me a drug for my recovery, and I forgot I told Ryke about it. If I drink on the meds, I’ll have stomach pains and severe nausea. It’s supposed to deter alcoholics from falling off the wagon. And even though I decided not to attend AA meetings, I still need to follow the right steps to get healthy.
I didn’t tell Lily why I’m not going to AA. The reason will make her think I’m even more fucked up. I’m a hard person to be around, and when I was in rehab, I pushed two recovering addicts to drink and break their short sobriety.
I always say the wrong things.
And the facility administration forbade me from going to group meetings because I was “adversely affecting my peers.” They also highly advised Inotattend AA meetings in fear that I would be the same asshole there.
Ryke agreed with them.
So here I am.
“I haven’t taken it yet,” I tell Ryke. “I think I’m going to start tomorrow.” I’ve heard horror stories about people becoming violently ill just from a sip of beer. I wanted to have a couple days without that suffocating fear before I started.
“You should take it now. Do you have it on you?” Ryke asks. He’s such a fucking pusher.
“No,” I snap. He doesn’t listen to me, already unzipping my bag and rummaging through it. “What is this, TSA? Leave my shit alone, Ryke.” He finds the inside zipper easily and holds up an orange bottle. His eyebrows rise accusingly.
My teeth ache as I bite down. “Wow, you found my pill bottle. Congratulations. Now put it back.”
