Page 17 of Up In Smoke
I know I can’t leave this conversation without addressing the issue at hand, even if it’s going to set him off again. This is why I’m the lieutenant at work. Sometimes, someone has to be the bad guy. This is for Jesse’s own good, so I’m okay if he hates me today if it means he’ll still be here tomorrow.
“Jay,” I hedge. He meets my gaze with red-rimmed eyes. “I know I said there aren’t any rules here, but I think we might need one. I think while you’re getting back on your feet, it would be a good idea if we didn’t have any alcohol in the apartment. Your body desperately needs a chance to get better. Is that something you’d consider agreeing to?”
His eyes fill with tears before he looks down at the floor. “I’m really sorry about the tequila,” he whispers. “I just wanted everything to go away.”
My heart lifts. It might only be a small admission. But hearing him admit that he’s self-medicating because of his mental health actually feels like a big step forward.
“I know,” I assure him. “And I don’t care about the drink. I’d forgotten I even had it. I care about you. I want you to feel better.”
He takes a shuddery breath and looks up, the tears spilling down his cheeks. “I’ll try, Rico,” he says.
And maybe I’m still a fool. But I believe him.
CHAPTER 5
Jesse
It was morelike I’d been lying to myself than lying to Rico earlier. I really had wanted to try and be better for Adam. Also a little bit for Rico as well. He’d driven all the way to LA for me and was giving me free food and board even though I kept being an asshole.
The truth is, I’m the kind of tired that you can’t fix in a day. I’d depleted my energy to fight when he’d asked me to keep booze out of the house, and seeing as I barely have a dollar to my name right now, it’s not like I’m going to be taking myself down to the liquor store and stocking up. In the throes of my hangover, it seemed like a reasonable proposal.
But after spending most of the day alternating between napping and being fed by him, my gremlin brain woke up some time around eight o’clock this evening. I was climbing the walls by ten. It’s past midnight now.
Why should I stick around somewhere I’m clearly not wanted? He can’t tell me what to do. Life is short and fucking hard. Why can’t I enjoy the ride as long as I’m on it?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the several very nice meals he’s filled my belly with and the fresh sheets on the soft bed. I probably haven’t slept that well in years. But I’m scrappy.I’ve survived all this time on my own and I’ll continue to do so. Now I’ve been refueled, it’s time to get back out there and start making money again. No way I’m sticking around this Podunk town. Nah, I’ll head back to LA where I bet I can get a new job fast. I’ll trawl around every bar in West Hollywood if I have to.
Rico was true to his word and left me alone most of the day, so when I wasn’t napping, I’ve been thinking. Biding my time until he goes to bed and I can be sure he’s asleep.
Because I’m about to do something really shitty.
What choice do I really have, though? I can’t stay here and burden him. How long can his goodwill realistically last? He might have control issues, but I can admit that his heart is in the right place. I need to leave now before I piss him off any more than I already have and cost him any more money. I’ve got it in my head that I can pay him back for the tequila at least when I start earning again, so the sooner I leave and do that, the better.
The idea of hanging around just to disappoint him again makes my guts twist. A part of me is still that little kid who was always so desperate to impress him.
When he realizes I’ve done what I’m about to do, I’m sure he’s going to be way more than disappointed.
He’s going to be furious. He’s never going to want to see or speak to me again. But that’s okay. It’s not like we were ever going to be friends anyway.
It’s not like he’s ever going to look at a washed-up loser like me and feel anything other than pity.
Hot tears leak from the corners of my eyes, and I angrily scrub them away. I don’t really still have a crush on him. It’s just a reaction to the first person who’s been nice to me since Adam left. In fact, if I discount Adam, he’s the first person who’s shown me any kindness in years.
How pathetic is that?
I meant it. I have no intention of being his charity case. And, yeah, he’s going to curse my name, but I really hope he won’t call the cops. I just need his help one last time.
I haven’t been evicted yet, so my plan is to go back to my shitty apartment and hustle my ass off until I can make rent, then start paying back my debts. If that means I have to resort to drastic measures…so be it. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Right now, I just need to get back to LA.
And that means transportation.
The place is completely still and quiet as I creep over to the front door where Rico leaves his keys. Making as little noise as possible, I ease the car fob off the bunch and let myself out, my heart hammering in my chest.
Once I get back to the city, I’ll park it up somewhere and tell Rico the location. He’s probably got a ton of friends who’d give him a ride to pick it up again. Other than gas money (which I totally intend to send him along with the tequila money) he shouldn’t be too inconvenienced. It’ll be fine.
I sprint down the several flights of stairs into the parking garage, clicking the fob to see which car lights up. A silver Toyota the row over comes to life, and my heart skips a beat. This is going to work.
First, I check there’s no one around to witness me getting into a car I don’t own without a valid license. Then I run to it, throwing my bag onto the passenger seat and dropping into the driver’s side, closing the door and gripping the wheel.