Page 66 of The Art of Drowning

I’d put my arm around Candace and let her hang off of me all night but had been successful so far in avoiding being alone with her. Sam had dragged us to some kind of party I didn’t really want to be at and had to pretend to be interested in.

The truth was that Sam was my best friend, or at least he was supposed to be, but lately he wanted different things. He wanted to drink and party and get laid. And I wanted to stay home and fuck his brother.

But it went deeper than that. Something had shifted between Sam and me, and it wasn’t just the secret I’d been keeping from him. The older Sam got, the angrier at everyone he seemed to get. He was different now, and I had a hard time understanding why. It was like over the summer when I hadn’t been able to take that job at the landscaping company with him, something had changed. Sometimes I got the feeling that he didn’t even want me around.

But I was imagining things.

I had to be because we were at Ian Cosgrove’s party, and Sam was laughing and chatting with me like before. Like nothing had changed between us. Maybe the distance between us had been a temporary thing. Maybe I’d only been imagining it. Or worse, had I been the one creating it? Had I wanted distance between us so I could make space for Callum?

Next to me, Canadace looked at me like maybe she’d said something that required a response from me and hadn’t gotten one yet. Oops.

“Sorry, I got lost in thought. What were you saying?”

At first, Candace wasn’t moved by my apology, so I pulled her a little closer and then her anger melted away. Guilt was a knife in my gut because, before Callum, Candace would’ve been perfect for me. I could see it. She was nice and fun and not hard to look at. She was nice to people, unlike some of Sam’s exes. But I needed something more than nice and fun. I needed Callum.

Since I fell for Callum, he was all I thought about.

Maybe the distance between Sam and me wasn’t entirely Sam’s fault.

Like I summoned him, Sam dropped down next to me and draped his arm around me. He was heavy and he smelled like a brewery, but he was in a good mood, even if he couldn’t sit up straight.

“We should go for a swim.”

Sam’s words were ice in my veins. He knew I couldn’t swim. Well, he knew I couldn’t swim before Callum taught me. But we never told anyone about the swimming lessons. They’d been our secret. I hadn’t told Sam and I knew Callum wouldn’t have.

“I can’t swim, dude. Remember?” It was a lie, but I didn’t care.

“Fuck,” Sam swore. “Forgot.”

He swayed forward and I had to grab on to him to stop him from face-planting.

“Maybe we should take you home.” I cut my gaze to Roxy and Candace. “Let’s pour him into the car, and I’ll drop you two off first. Roxy, can you get his keys?”

Sam leaned his weight on me—heavy bastard—as I stood and held him upright. Roxy fished around in his front pockets until she got his keys and then handed them to me.

Sam tried to protest, but he didn’t put up much of a fight as we dragged him to his car. That was unusual for him, speaking to the amount of booze he’d clearly had to drink. He was on the verge of unconsciousness as I strapped him into the front seat. Roxy and Candace climbed into the back of Sam’s car.

Roxy was staying with Candace so I dropped them off first, thankfully avoiding having to walk Candace to her door for a goodnight kiss where she could’ve tried to get me to make plans to see her again.

I waited until they were safely inside the house before I put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. Sam stayed practically incoherent for the whole ride home. He tried to talk a few times, but he was really fucking out of it. It might have been kind of dumb, but I figured now would be a good time to have a conversation with him. It wasn’t like he could talk back or argue with me.

“You’ve got me worried about you, buddy. You’re drinking a lot more lately. Partying is fun, but you’re doing it a lot.”

Sam’s head drooped forward, his chin pointed toward his chest.

“So maybe you can slow down. Or we can do other things together.”

He didn’t respond.

“Good talk.” I made a mental note to bring up Sam’s drinking with him when he wasn’t incoherent or unconscious.

The rest of the drive was spent with me making sure Sam was still breathing and by some miracle, when I pulled into his driveway and turned the car off, he stirred a little.

“Good, you’re up. You can help me get your drunk ass into bed.”

Sam looked at me and then tried to unbuckle his seat belt. His lack of coordination might have been funny if I wasn’t so annoyed with him at the moment. I loved Sam like a brother, but it still rankled that he’d asked me to go swimming with him. Even drunk Sam should have remembered that I didn’t know how to swim.

He was only marginally helpful. He did manage to stay upright, and by the grace of God, I managed to get him upstairs and into his room. Sam collapsed face down on his bed, and I took his shoes off for him.