Page 16 of Up In Smoke
“You don’t even know me,” he scoffs, grabbing his duffle bag and throwing the things I packed yesterday for him back in it.
“I know you’re in pain,” I say, folding my arms as I stand in the doorway. “And I don’t just mean your ribs. The drinking…it’s so self-destructive. I want to help you. Please don’t go.”
He jabs a finger at me, his face screwed up in anger. “I’m not going to be your little charity project to make yourself feel better, Rico. How about you sort out your own fucking life before trying to fix mine, hm? I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You’re acting pretty childishly all the same,” I snap out of frustration. “What’s the plan here? Drink yourself to death?”
“At least that way I won’t have to listen to your bitching anymore,” he hisses, looking around the room, the half-full bag clutched to his chest.
I briefly close my eyes and try to convince myself that it’s not on me what choices he makes. But the thought of him walking out my door breaks my heart. “You can do what you want,” I tell him. “I’m not making you stay here. But I’m not sure where else you have to go. If you’re going to be living here, I want to have a serious talk about what’s pushed you to this point.”
“You’re not a fucking shrink,” he sneers with a curled lip. “You’re a firefighter with a god complex. I’ll save you some time. I don’t need rescuing, and even if I did, I wouldn’t want some judgy, repressed, joyless dick hovering over my shoulder, watching everything I put in my mouth and testing my piss, all right? So how about you fuck off out of my way?”
I bite my lip but step aside all the same. He storms past me, and I think he’s really going to leave.
“Seriously,” I say, my tone bleak. “Where will you go? You told me you haven’t got a cent to your name. Jay, please. I’m offering you a bed, food, everything. But I can’t stand by and watch you hurt yourself like this. You have a problem.”
He wheels around and shoves me. “Yeah,you’remy problem.”
I stand firm, like one of the redwoods this town’s named after. “Are you going to try and kill yourself again?” I ask, my voice catching despite my effort to keep calm.
He freezes. “What are you…I didn’t…those guys beat me up.”
“And then you swallowed a ton of pills and almost choked on your own vomit,” I cry. “God, Jay! It doesn’t have to be like that! I’m giving you a way out, a fresh start. I can’t even tell you how many countless victims of tragedy I’ve seen who would give anything for that.”
“Don’t fucking try and guilt trip me, man,” he growls. “Someone else’s shitty life isn’t my problem. I’ll find a way to manage, I always do. If you only want me here to nag me, why the hell would I stay?”
I know it’s low, but I’m desperate. I go for the Achilles’ heel.
“Because I’ll never forgive myself if I have to tell your brother I didn’t do everything I possibly could to help you. If you end up dead in a gutter somewhere, who do you think is going to be the one who has to tell him?”
Mentioning Adam makes something click behind his eyes, I see it. I’m not above using emotional blackmail to try and convince him not to attempt suicide again. Because I know what I saw. That wasn’t a bender gone wrong. That was a deliberate effort to shuffle off this mortal coil.
Why can’t he see it doesn’t have to be this way? He’s got family who love him. He’s still that bright spark of a kid I knew. He could do anything he wanted with his life instead of giving up and throwing it all away.
“Adam left,” he says, sounding unsure.
“Because he got an incredible job opportunity,” I remind him gently. “He was worried about leaving you, but I told him you’d be fine. Because you want him to be happy, don’t you?”
Jesse nods, and the pressure in my chest eases ever so slightly. We’re getting somewhere, even if it’s just fractionally. I press on.
“He still loves you like crazy, and he’d be utterly devastated if anything happened. You hear me? It would destroy him. So if you think no one would miss you if you were gone, that’s just not true. Jay, please stay. Give me a little bit longer, even if it’s only for Adam. Please.”
He looks up at me through his long, blond lashes, and I see that beautiful vulnerability again. I try not to get my hopes up, but my heart skips a beat all the same. I want him to stay forme as well, I acknowledge that. The protectiveness I felt for him when we were younger is only getting stronger, and Adam won’t be the only one who’ll grieve if Jesse Silverman takes his own life.
But most importantly, I want him to stay because that’s whathewants. He has to believe in himself and see that he’s worth caring about.
He needs to start loving himself. Maybe that way, he can finally begin to heal that gaping chasm in his chest that he’s been trying to fill with booze and pills.
Slowly, he lets his bag drop to the floor. “I don’t have anywhere else to go,” I mumbles. “You’re right. But if I stay here, I don’t want you making me feel like shit all the time.”
I shake my head. “That’s really not my intention,” I assure him. “I just want to help. Please let me help. If for today, that’s just making you some meals and giving you space, I’m cool with that. You can sleep, watch TV, whatever. Maybe give Adam a call? I’ve been texting with him but I’m sure he’d love to hear your voice.”
That gets a very half-hearted shrug, and I make a note not to push that particular topic for now. Adam’s understandably worried, but I can see that Jesse’s probably too ashamed to face the older brother he’s always idolized just yet.
“Why don’t I start by making us breakfast like I promised?” I suggest gently. “I can bring it to you in the bedroom if you’d rather be alone for the time being.”
He licks his lips and gives me a small nod. “Yeah. Thanks.” He sounds incredibly tired all of a sudden.