Page 32 of Before You (Reckless Love #2)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

JJ

I’M ON TOP of the fucking world.

I wipe the small stream of beer off my chin that escaped while the guys and I were shotgunning. Between the conversation I had with Marley and this morning’s game, I feel on fire. The drugs and alcohol have numbed the twinge of pain in my knee to nothing.

The only thing I would change about this moment would be having Marley here, but with her parents being in town, it’s okay she’s not, especially when I know this isn’t her scene. I know she’s missed them, and I feel bad I unintentionally crashed their dinner last night.

Her dad is fucking terrifying, but I think I held my own.

I catch sight of Asher jumping into the pool with all of his clothes on, and everyone else follows suit. The pool is no match for the flood of people, and it quickly becomes a mosh pit. I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.

I drop my empty can in a nearby trash bag hung up on the back of a chair before heading inside to grab another drink. A couple of people clap me on the back in congratulations, but I don’t bother taking note of their faces. I know everyone and everyone knows me.

A group of cheerleaders I know passes me a shot in the kitchen, and I don’t think twice before throwing it back.

I mean, why the hell not? It’s okay to let loose sometimes.

I’m not in any danger of missing a call from Bailey.

It’s only been a month since his last call, and I deserve a night where I don’t carry the weight of everything on my shoulders.

The only problem is I’ve lost track of how much I’ve had.

Is it a bad idea to call Marley? I want to talk to my girl—

A hand taps me on the shoulder, and I turn, my vision swimming as a girl throws her arms around my torso, knocking me off balance. “You run so fast, like a cheetah!” she says, and my back hits the wall behind me. I blink rapidly, my brain slow to connect the dots. Why is this chick hugging me?

“Hey, don’t touch me,” I slur, pushing her gently off me as the music rattles every bone in my body.

This is wrong, I took it too far.

My vision clears enough I can place her as a cheerleader, but her name is lost in the oblivion. “JJ, I was just congratulating you?”

“I-I . . . I have a girlfriend. Don’t touch me,” I say, trying to remember if Marley and I defined what we are earlier, but it’s not coming to me. I don’t think we did. I would remember, but regardless, she’s the only one for me.

“You must be really drunk if you think you have a girlfriend. I thought you didn’t do relationships, or do you just tell everyone that because you’re gay?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What?”

“Are you? It’s okay if you are, but you don’t have to hide it. Sure, it’d be disappointing, because holy hell, have you looked in a mirror? Half the cheerleaders totally want to hook up with you,” she rambles on, and my brain can’t even comprehend this conversation right now.

“I’m not gay,” I say, stumbling over my words.

“Wanna prove it to me?” she asks, stepping forward to rest her hand on my chest, sliding it all the way down to my pants, copping an unwanted feel before I can react. I jerk back from her touch, hitting my head on the wall.

“No. No , I have a girlfriend,” I insist, wincing as my head throbs.

A familiar blonde comes out of nowhere, stepping between us. “He said no,” I recognize Charlie’s voice, but all I can think is how I’ve messed up everything.

“Call me when this psycho bitch isn’t here.”

I shut my eyes for a moment, resting my head against the wall, until there’s a slap across my face, snapping my eyes open. Oh shit. She looks pissed.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Charlie?” I question, struggling to make sense of what’s going on. The girl— Marley .

“Yes, dumbass. C’mon, we need to get you out of here while you can still somewhat walk,” she says, wrapping my arm around her shoulders to help support me. We stagger toward the exit, shouldering our way through people as my eyelids fall further down.

“M-Marley,” I slur, reaching for the phone in my pocket.

“Yeah, sorry, but you’re not calling her while you’re like this. What the hell were you thinking getting this fucked up?”

I wasn’t thinking. I don’t think I have been for a while.

~

I wake up on the floor of an unknown bathroom, my shirt soaked through with sweat and a stain that looks like vomit after closer examination. A loud pounding slams against my skull as I focus on my hands shaking in front of me.

My stomach rolls and I lean forward into the toilet, heaving.

What the hell happened last night?

I wipe my mouth on a piece of toilet paper, trying to piece everything together. I know I was at the party, but everything after is a blur.

When my stomach stops churning, allowing me to stand, I rinse the aftertaste of vomit from my mouth. However, as I try to cup the water, a majority of it slips through my fingers from how badly they’re shaking. I can feel a disgusting sheen of sweat covering me.

The pills— they’ll fix it. They’ll fix me . I rapidly pat my pockets, feeling for the extras I’ve started carrying, but panic begins to course through my veins as I try to think of where I would have put my emergency ones because I’m not feeling them.

The thought of calling them emergency pills results in a dark laugh slipping from me. I’m a fucking mess. Emergency pills? What happened to the promise you made to stop taking them, JJ?

I wince, another round of nausea threatening to bring me to my knees as the pressure in my head increases. Holy shit—my jacket. I put them in my jacket.

Shielding my eyes from the harsh white light, I glance around the bathroom, but if I don’t even know where I am, how the fuck am I supposed to know where my jacket is.

Bracing myself over the sink, I splash more cold water on my face before reaching into my back pocket for my phone, but I swear, my heart stutters in my chest at the empty pockets.

My phone is my lifeline to Bailey. If he gets into trouble and by some miracle calls me, only I don’t answer because I got too fucked up at a party. I don’t know how I would ever forgive myself.

Reaching for the handle, I stagger out of the bathroom into a dorm room, clearly belonging to a girl, and I feel even worse than I did before. What the hell have I done?

I drag my hands through my hair, feeling like I’m gasping for air as I search through the messily made bed for my phone.

I can’t have missed a call from Bailey, and Marley—oh god.

Marley . My vision blurs as my chest constricts at the thought of hurting her because I took it too far mixing alcohol and pills.

The tears slipping down my cheeks echo the cracks breaking me apart from the inside out. Why am I like this? I clutch at my chest, dropping to my knees as the pounding in my head only grows worse. How could I be so reckless and stupid?

I need to stop taking the pills—this can’t happen again.

Marley deserves better than this. I know I wouldn’t cheat on her, but I’d be stupid if I didn’t consider the thought that it could have happened and I’d have no idea. My fist hits the hard floor as I choke on a sob, bowing my head, and everything aches.

I’m done. I’m so done with all of this—the crushing pressure everything will fall apart if I fall apart, and I’m nearly killing myself to keep up with it. It’s fucking exhausting.

A hand rests on my back, startling me.

“JJ, oh my god. What happened? What’s wrong?” Charlie’s voice asks as I lift my head, gasping for air.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Charlie wipes my cheeks, helping to clear some of the tears from my vision, shaking her head. “Take a deep breath with me.”

“I-I can’t,” I stutter over my words, panic refusing to release its grip on me.

I thought I’d hit a low point when I broke down in front of Marley, but if that was a breakdown, then I don’t know what to call this. My nervous system is in fight or flight mode, tempted to let the boulder sitting on my chest finally crush me.

She grabs my face, forcing me to look at her. “You can—in through your nose, out through your mouth,” she says, and I try, feeling the hot tears continue to stream as I inhale raggedly. “Again.”

I continue, feeling the panic slowly recede, but my body continues trembling. “Thank you,” I whisper, and Charlie brushes my tears away again.

“Dude, what is going on?”

“I’m . . .” My voice falters, chickening out at the last second. “What happened last night?”

“I found you in the kitchen with a cheerleader still trying to feel you up after you pushed her off of you. You were in rough shape, so I brought you here because the party was just down the street from the dorms. JJ, do I need to call someone? Asher?” Charlie asks, and it feels a little easier to take a breath now, knowing even out of my mind, I was right about wanting nothing to do with another girl.

“Where’s my jacket and phone?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.

She squints, staring at me. “Are you insane?”

“Charlie, I need my phone. My brother— he . . . I’m the only one he calls. I need my phone,” I say, and I can feel my heart begin to race in my chest again.

Charlie pushes herself up and grabs the jacket hanging on the back of the door, tossing it at me.

“Your phone is in the pocket,” she says, and my breath catches.

She would have said if she found my pills.

“You took off the jacket when we got here last night, but I kept your phone. I didn’t think you should be calling anyone in the state you were in. ”

I reach in the pockets, and I hate how the second my fingers graze over the pills that somehow lasted through everything last night, I relax.

Instead of grabbing them, I pull my phone from the other pocket with my keys still in it, quickly turning it on to see the only call I missed was from Marley. “Shit,” I mumble.

“When I saw Marley texted, I let her know you had too much to drink and I brought you back here.”

I look at her, embarrassed, but grateful for how she took care of me last night. Charlie’s a better friend than I deserve.

“Thank you, Charlie. I’m sorry,” I say, my mouth feeling like it’s been stuffed full of cotton.

She pulls a lock of her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, twisting it around her finger. “You didn’t answer my question,” she says, and I’m not sure there’s a chance in hell I can play this off without giving Charlie something.

“Which one?”

Her mouth flattens. “Do I need to call my cousin?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, hating myself for it even more when her eyes widen. I recognize the fear in them because I know what it’s like to be afraid. I’m even more ashamed when I remember we’re in the dorms because Charlotte’s only eighteen.

I’ve known her for a couple of years now since her folks live in the area, and Asher started bringing me with him to visit when we got sick of dining hall food freshman year. I think part of it was because he could tell I was homesick.

“It scared me last night how out of it you were. I mean, I’ve seen you drunk, JJ, but it was a different level. And this morning? I . . . I don’t even know what to say,” Charlie says, and I look away, my hands gripping tightly into fists.

She’s a kid—it’s not her burden to shoulder.

“I just had too much. I promise I’m fine, Charlotte.” I reach to ruffle her hair while using the wrong name, hoping to make her smile a little. She doesn’t.

“I don’t think you are, but I hope you know Ash and I are here for you if you’re in any kind of trouble.”

“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I’m not sure what else I can say.

Charlie stands up, catching me by surprise when she wraps her arms around my torso. “Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree, returning her hug.

She steps back, wrinkling her nose. “Sorry, but you smell awful. I don’t think you should let anyone come near you without showering first.”

I lift the collar of my shirt up, grimacing at the stench hitting me a second later. “Gross,” I mumble, tempted to just take it off to dump it in a trash can, and wear only my hoodie on my walk back to the house.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Charlie asks, and I shake my head, mustering a smile.

“I think the fresh air will do me good. Thanks again for looking out for me,” I say, but honestly, I’m starting to get nauseous again.

I know I look like a fucking wreck, but thankfully, it’s early enough in the morning that most people are still asleep, I can complete my walk of shame without too many prying eyes on me.

Showering helps me feel a little better, but I’m not sure there’s anything possible to change how disappointed I am in myself for putting Charlotte in that position last night. I should wake Asher up to talk to him, but I know once I open my mouth I can’t take it back. It’ll change everything.

So instead, I sit at my desk and I write to the girl who makes me want to be the guy she believes I am, haunted by the bottle of pills sitting in the drawer a few inches away.