“In a month?” I question, lowering my hand to my side. “Isn’t that, like, really soon?”
“Soon for two people who’ve known each other for almost seventeen years?”
“Yeah, good point, I guess.” I try not to roll my eyes because I think marriage is ridiculous. Look at my father and mother. They are prime examples of what can happen to a couple if they forever bind themselves to each other.
“So will you?”
“Has Ella talked to Lila about this?” I ask. “Or talked to her at all lately?”
“I don’t think so,” he says, sounding confused. “Why? What’s up?”
“It’s nothing.” I get to my feet and head for the door. “I’m down for California, but I’m going to let Ella ask Lila if she thinks she can go.”
“Sounds like a plan, man.” He turns on some music, letting it play quietly in the background. “Talk to you later, then.”
“Sounds good.” I hang up and take a deep breath before going out into the hall and veering to the left toward my bedroom. The door is open and I know right away that Lila’s gone and I don’t doubt for one second where she’s going. I’ve been in that desperate place before and it’s an overwhelming place to be trapped in. It makes not wanting to help her feel easy and wanting to help her feel hard, but the feelings that I have for Lila, ones I didn’t know existed until I saw her laying on the ground completely out of it, also make it impossible to turn my back on her.
I hesitate for a moment, thinking about everything Lila and I have been through, the long talks, the flirting, the touches that almost led to something but never fully did, the way she makes me feel, the fact that I’ve broken my rules with her a ton of times, the fear that overtook my body when I saw her in the bushes. As I remember it all, it makes it slightly easier to make my decision. I snatch my truck keys off the dresser and head for the front door, knowing I’ve got to beat her to the apartment, otherwise this is going be even harder than it already is.
As I trot down the stairs, gripping my keys in my hand, I try to mentally prepare myself for what I’m diving into so hopefully I’ll be able to handle it. At the bottom of the stairs, I take out my phone and call my mom to get some advice on the right way to try to wean someone off an opiate addiction, since she’s done it herself. I just pray to God, Lila and I won’t turn into what they turned into during it, yelling and fighting and my mom always crying secretly in her room over the things my dad said to her. I can’t picture this happening, at least the crying part, but I can’t erase everything I saw when I was a kid.
There’re so many emotions crashing through me at the moment as I make the final decision to be there for Lila, but out of all them, what really gets to me is the fact that I’m going to help her, because I care about her— more than care. That in and of itself is fucking terrifying, more than running head-on into traffic. More than walking into a room and looking at the girl you thought you might love, only to find out she has no idea who you are anymore and that you might have never really known her and never will.
Chapter Seven
Lila
I’m sweating and it’s not from the heat. In fact, I think the air is kind of chilly, but it feels like I’m drenched in sweat. I need to get to my apartment and I
I hop off the bus and sprint for my apartment complex across the street, the asphalt rough against the bottom of my bare feet. I’m panting and nauseous, but I know as soon as I get to the drawer everything will be okay again.
But when I turn the corner of my building, I slam to a stop at the bottom of the stairway. “What are you doing here?” I put my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes. “God, Ethan, can’t you take a hint?”
Ethan stands up from the top step, putting a hand on the railing and the side of the building. “What? Did you seriously think I was just going to let you go?” he asks, arching his eyebrow. “After what happened last night?”
“Yes,” I say with honesty. “You always let me go after I mess up. You’ve picked me up how many times and never said a word? That’s what you do. You let me be and you don’t judge me. You even walked out on me that night after we made out and almost had sex. You just walked away.” I can’t believe how blunt I’m being at the moment and I should be embarrassed, but I have more important things to worry about, like getting to the damn pills.
Ethan briefly winces at my words, but stays composed, making sure to stay on the subject. “Yeah, but this is different.” He trots down a stair and tips his head down so he can look at me. “This isn’t sex. This is drugs.”
“I don’t take
“A prescription that you abuse.” He steps down another stair and then another, closing in on me like the damn walls always do. “Lila, look at yourself.” His eyes sweep my body and I glance down at his shirt and the bottom of my dress showing out from under it, stained with dirt and vomit.
“So what?” I cringe, knowing I don’t mean it. He arrives at the bottom of the stairway and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, looking uncomfortable and scared to death. “I want to help you.”
“I don’t need help,” I snap, stepping back. A few of my neighbors are outside on their balconies and near their cars and they pause to watch the scene unfold. “You were never supposed to see me like this. This isn’t who I am. And as soon as you let me go into my house, I can clean up and we can forget about all of this. I can go back to the smiling, happy Lila.”
“No, you won’t,” he argues. “Sorry to break it to you but I haven’t seen that Lila for a while.”
“Well, I can at least give you the illusion of her,” I retort hotly.
He scratches his unshaven chin with a doubtful look on his face. “After you clean up and take a pill?”
I shake my head multiple times, but I can’t seem to answer him with words. “Please just let me through.”
“Nope,” he says simply, and then his hands come out from his pockets and he reaches for me. “Lila, I want to help—”
I cut him off as I skitter around him and sprint up the stairs, skipping steps even though my body aches and the metal of the steps burns the pads of my feet. Thankfully, I left my door unlocked last night and I get into the house easily. I make a bolt for my bedroom without so much as looking over my shoulder. All I need is one, just one dose inside my bloodstream and all will be forgotten. Everything will be okay and I’ll be back to the normal, happy, full-of-sunshine Lila.
When I reach my room, I jump over my bed to get to my dresser drawer. Right as I get my fingers around the bottle and relax, I hear Ethan enter my room.
“Don’t fucking do it, Lila.” His voice is unsteady, which is really strange for him. He’s usually full of humor and radiating calmness in unnerving situations. “Just give me the bottle and we can talk.”
I shake my head and slam my trembling palm on the lid, pushing down to twist it off. “No, please just go away. I didn’t ask you to be here or follow me. I don’t want your—”
His arms snake around my waist and I let out a spastic wail as his fingers come down over my hands. He tries to pry them off the bottle, but I wrestle my arms away, slipping out of his hold. I bend my knees to jump over the bed, but he catches me midleap and hauls me down onto the mattress.
“Ethan, stop it!” I cry as he holds me down with his body. I writhe my hips and jerk my shoulders, attempting to escape. “You’re hurting me!” It’s a lie, but I’m desperate, needy, obsessed with what’s in that bottle.
“Stop being a baby,” he says, kneeling up so my waist is trapped between his knees. “I’m barely putting any weight on you.’ ”
