Page 138 of Becoming Us

Breathing into that image eased the rest of my worries. My chest loosened; gradually, everything began to fall into place. I could almost see the shoreline of calm rising beyond the panic.

“Have you ever been to a meeting?” Paxton asked.

I opened my eyes slowly. The question hung there—heavy, but not judgmental.

“Not really,” I said. “I’ve been to rehab a couple of times, and we had some there. But the rest of it I worked through with my therapist. He specializes in addiction.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I guess I never really gave the rest of it a shot.”

He nodded. “Do you want to go? They really helped me. It goes a long way in making you feel less alone. Gives hope.”

“But you go to AA.”

“They have NA at the center too. I could tag along, if you’d like. It can’t hurt, having another tool in your belt.”

The thought made my stomach twist—but also, why the hell not? It seemed like I had Paxton on my team too. If we were going to pull off this whole rock band thing, I needed someone who understood the shit underneath it. And Paxton did.

Takes one to know one.

I didn’t have to keep up the front anymore, pretending everything was fine while it all crumbled underneath. Even if he was new, he felt safe.

“Okay.”

A smile curved his lips. “So, crisis averted? Do you want to go back?”

I glanced at the glowing lights down the beach, faint music drifting on the breeze.

“Yeah, but I’m heading home after that,” I said. “I just… I need to shut the world off for a bit. Reset. Thanks, Pax.”

“Anytime.”

We didn’t move right away, choosing to stay there a little longer.

When we finally walked back, it was in easy silence. This didn’t fix everything, but it was enough to quiet the spiral. And wasn’t that something?

Atty still had that deer-in-the-headlights look when we rejoined the group. I hated that I’d scared him.

“Hey, do you want to go home with me?” I asked, brushing a kiss over his cheek.

He threaded his fingers through mine. “Sure.”

As soon as we hit the street, he tugged on my hand gently, forcing me to face him. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Yeah.” I grasped his hand a little tighter. “I walked into a room, people were taking bumps. They offered, and I—I bolted.”

His shoulders tensed. “Is that slang for coke?”

“Yes.”

A flicker of fear crossed his face.

“I talked to Paxton. He helped—he’s in AA.” I’d already asked him if it was okay for Atty to know. He’d said yes.

“He helped?”

I nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah. It’s nice having someone who’s been through something similar. Makes the conversation easier.”

He stepped in close, arms sliding around my shoulders, pulling me into him. “You can talk to me too. But I’m glad you found someone like him.”

“Me too.” I tucked my face into the curve of his neck. “And Atty?”