Page 194 of Carousel

She nods quickly. “Of course. He’s going to need us both. And honestly, it will be nice not to have to get him clean again on my own this time. It can be pretty lonely.”

“Lonely?” I repeat, swallowing heavily.

“Addicts are…” She flails her spoon. “Selfish. The drug, that’s the only thing they really care about. So, they’ll lie to your face. Hurt you, over and over again. They don’t mean to. They don’t want to. It’s the addiction.” She sighs. Goes back to her food. “The amount of times I wanted to give up…”

Oh, Cosmer.

What did you do to yourself for me?

“The first few days are the hardest,” she continues. “You have to watch them like a bird of prey. You can’t even really fall asleep. You have to make sure they don’t get away from you, because they’ll just try to find the drug again.” She licks her lips. “And osimidite withdrawal is particularly nasty. They start shaking. Wheezing, like they can’t breathe. And he’ll be completely miserable. He’ll be begging us for it. You’ll have to be strong. Stronger than you’ve ever been.”

She looks up at me.

“But this time will be different,” she concludes. “There are two of us helping him. Two of us who love him, in our own way. I think – I hope – that will be enough.”

We eat in silence for a moment.

“Riss,” I say.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

She snorts. “For what?”

“Being such a good friend to Cosmer.” Hesitantly, I add, “And, to me.”

She laughs. “Who said I was friends with you?”

I kick her under the table. She laughs harder, spit coming out of her mouth, which makes me laugh too.

And maybe we can do it. Maybe we can get Cosmer clean again.

Maybe I can finally live the life I want to live.

And love the person I want to love.

After dinner, I help Riss move her things from her standard cabin back up to her old officer cabin.

Dumping her clothes on her dresser, she leaps back onto her four-poster bed. Stretches out like a flipped-over crab.

“Heaven,” she gushes, stroking the sheets. “I missed you, bed.”

“Goodnight, Riss,” I say, making for the door.

But she calls out to me. “I don’t mind if you want to share. There’s loads of room. And I’ll bet you don’t snore as badly as Drake. And we can talk about dumb stuff.” Mischief glimmers in her face as she sits up, pulling a pillow to her chest. “Like how me and Cosmer kissed once…”

My jaw drops. “You didn’t!”

She howls with laughter. “Your face! I’ve been dying to tell you. It was at a morale booster. Don’t worry – it was disgusting. Like kissing one of my brothers. We’ve been friends ever since.” Grinning, she bats her eyelids at me. “Come on. I bet you’ve got loads of dumb stuff you’ve been dying to tell me.”

Talking about ‘dumb stuff’ until late does sounds fun.

But…

“Thanks, Riss. But I’m just going to sleep in my old cabin.”

She scrunches her delicate nose. “Really?”