Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
A laugh shakes his chest, and Jake finally smiles at me.
But it’s faded and fragile and gone all too quickly, and now he won’t look at me at all anymore.
He stares out into the darkness.
I lay my hand on his arm that’s propped on his knee and finally ask him, “Are you okay?” when I already know he isn’t. How could he be?
“Not really,” he says quietly.
“Talk to me.”
“I don’t know how to be sober without my brother,” Jake admits, and his voice trembles. “He’s always been there for me, and I don’t know if I can do this without him, Felix. What if I can’t?”
“I think you can.”
“But what if I can’t.”
I pull on his arm, forcing him to turn into me so I can see his face.
“Look at me.”
He does.
“You’re not alone,” I say. “You’ll never be alone, okay?”
“You don’t know what this feels like.”
“I lost the only person in the world who’s ever given a shit about me. Remember? No one cares about you like family, and I never had that when I was trying to get sober and stay sober, because my dad sure as shit didn’t count. So yeah. I do know. But I have you now and I have Dean and… and I have you.”
My heart jumps.
“And I think this could be the biggest thing to ever happen to me. It feels different,” I admit.
Jake’s lips part, and I want his reaction to hearing me tell him that more than I want any drug right now, but making this about me is the last thing I should be doing.
I’m his sponsor first. I have to be.
“You have your parents,” I say. “And other family I don’t know about, but you have people who care about you, Jake. And that includes your brother. He cares. I know he does.”
“You heard what he said. That stay sober or don’t shit.”
“I heard someone who was scared and hurting lash out, and I think CJ felt like he could do that with you because you’re his brother and you’ll always be his brother, no matter what he says.”
“If that’s true, that’s fucked up.”
“I know, but… he just lost his baby. And Riley could’ve died. He was… out of his mind a little. You know? I really don’t think he meant what he said. But I do think CJ felt like he could take his pain out on you because of who you are to him.”
Hurt fills Jake’s eyes, and he turns away from me again. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Okay.”
I take my hand off his arm, and I share something I’m not sure I should tell Jake or anyone (Dean especially), but it just comes out of my mouth.
“I don’t think about you not beating this, because if you don’t, then I won’t.”
Jake shoots me a glare. “Fuck you. Don’t put that on me.”
“I’m not! I’m not saying that to try and guilt trip you into staying sober. It’s just… it’s the truth. I’m scared too. You have to fight this with me, Jake. You can’t stop fighting it. Okay?”
I’m nervous now and breathing so much faster than I was before.
And I am guilt-tripping him, but I’m desperate.
If it saves his life, I’ll never regret what I’ve just told him. No matter how fucked up it is.
We stare at each other and we’re not sitting close and touching as much as I like, not anymore. Jake must’ve shifted over at some point, and now I might regret telling him that.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Don’t be mad at me. Just forget I said that. I didn’t mean it.”
“Shut up. I feel the same way.”
I blink in surprise, then I hold my breath when Jake reaches out and lightly brushes his thumb over my eyebrow.
“What happened here?” he asks.
“Uh.” My cheeks flush. “I kind of fell into the door.”
“When?”
“Like, ten minutes ago? Whenever I got up to come look for you. I rushed out of bed too fast and tripped. I was worried you were… I was just worried.”
Jake looks like he wants to smile but pushes to his feet before I can tell if he actually does it or not, which totally sucks for me.
But then he holds out his hand and urges me to take it with a gentle but possibly irritated “Come on,” and how the fuck am I supposed to act now?
I’m still scared I’ve made things worse, but Jake doesn’t say I have.
He doesn’t say anything as he leads us back inside the house and into the kitchen, stopping us at the fridge.
Then he drops my hand to pull out the same bag of frozen peas he used earlier and softly presses it against my face.
And we both start laughing.
It’s nice.
“I probably don’t look as hot as you do,” I say.
Jake’s brow furrows in confusion, so I gesture at the bruising on his face.