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)
“Fucking heroin, Jake? I want to kill whoever invented that shit.”
“You were right though. It’s pretty fucking amazing.”
The hand wrapped around my heart squeezes so tight I lose my breath.
I try to pull away, but Jake grabs my arm and keeps me close.
“Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that,” he grunts. “I’m sorry.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I would’ve done it anyway, Felix. Nothing would’ve stopped me. This wasn’t your fault.”
“I am absolutely the worst sponsor ever.”
“No, you’re not. Shut up.”
I start to wipe the tears from my face, but Jake pushes my hand down and does it himself, and his thumbs are scratchy against my cheeks.
“I’m bringing you moisturizer,” I grumble.
“What.”
“Nothing.” I grab his hands and hold them between us and stare into his eyes, asking, “Are you okay? How do you feel?”
“Like shit. My head and throat are killing me. My body hurts. I keep wanting to puke.” He slides his fingers between mine. “How are you?”
Did you use.
That’s what he’s asking me.
I shake my head. “I’m sober. Barely. But I’m okay.”
“What do you mean barely. You’re struggling now? With me?”
“No. No, I’m fucking ecstatic right now. I thought you’d never look at me again. I’m just a little numb from everything, I think. I haven’t really slept much. I won’t leave the hospital.”
“I heard.”
“I just mean, I wanted to use. And I definitely could’ve. You had some Vicodin on you, and I found it.”
“Shit.”
I sniffle and shrug. “I promised you we’d be okay. I didn’t take it.”
Jake’s eyes well up with tears.
“Hey,” I say, shifting closer and lifting his head when he lowers it. “No no no. If you start crying, then I’m going to start again, and I literally just stopped.” I cup his face between my hands. “You’re alive, Jake. You can still promise me.”
“I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I know you are.”
“If I would’ve found you like that, I would’ve taken that Vicodin. I can’t promise you shit.”
My breath shudders. “I don’t think that’s true, Jake.”
“No, Felix. I’m telling you, I would’ve. I’m really fucked up.”
He sits back, forcing my hands to drop, and wipes at his face.
“Fuck. I’m so sick of crying,” he says.
I know there’s nothing I can say to cheer him up, but there is something good we can talk about.
“Things are okay with your brother now, right?” I ask.
He nods, the corner of his mouth twitching.
See?
“He called me little bro.” And here we go again with the blushing. I clear my throat, then add, “That felt nice. I’ve always wanted a brother. A family.”
Jake pinches his eyes shut.
“He doesn’t have to call me that if it’s weird for you.”
“That’s not it,” he quickly says. “I’m happy he called you that. I just gotta talk to you about something.”
“Oh. Okay.”
He takes a deep breath. “I need to go back to rehab.”
I blink in surprise and smile at his miserable expression. “Rehab’s not a bad thing, Jake.”
“I know it isn’t.”
“So why do you look like that?”
His gaze falls from my face, and I can’t help my mood from sinking.
Something’s wrong.
“I want to go back to the rehab I went to before,” he says, voice trembling and soft. “I just think it would be better for me. I know that program, and I know I can do it…”
“Okay.” Still not seeing the issue. “Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll get you into that one.”
Jake finally looks at me again.
And I know I’m not the smartest person, but he’s looking at me with so much hurt and worry in his eyes, and I don’t understand.
I’m not against rehab for anyone, even me. If I thought I needed it, I would go.
So why does Jake look so nervous right now?
“If you need rehab, then we’ll get you into rehab, Jake.”
“Felix, I’m going home.”
I watch a tear fall down his face.
“Home,” I’m slow to say like I’ve never heard that word before.
I tug at the neck of the hoodie as I search my memory and every conversation we’ve ever had.
Did we ever talk about this?
“Um. Where are you from again?” I ask.
“Tennessee.”
Where in the fuck…
“How far away is that?” I try to picture a map and can’t, and I wish I would’ve paid attention once in tenth-grade Geography.
“Pretty far,” Jake says.
“How far,” I press.
“Almost six hours.”
“Fuck.” I watch Jake’s lips pull down. “Okay. Hey. It’s okay. What’s that shit about distance and loving someone more because you never see them or something? And it’s only ninety days. Three months is nothing. It’ll be fine.”
Jake shakes his head and takes a hold of my hands again.
“I need this to work, Felix. I’m not going to have another chance. I know I’m not.”
“And it’ll work. I know it will. Do you know how I know?”
“How?”
“Because I’ve waited my whole life for you. And for this. Us.” I squeeze his hands. “You’re my fucking family, Jake, and we’ll fight this. Together.”