Page 20 of Up In Smoke

Perhaps I do have something to live for? The idea of making him proud, of seeing him smile at me again…that might just be enough to stop me doing something entirely reckless.

Will it be enough to keep me sober? I doubt it. Past experience is stacked against me. But for the first time in forever, I honestly do want to try.

He’s right. It’ll be better in the morning. I can wake up without a hangover for the first time in weeks and use a clearer head to attempt to see a way out of my troubles that doesn’t involve hurting myself any further. The idea that Rico might even be there to talk to…to share coffee and eggs with and maybe even another hug…I can work toward that.

I can live long enough to get myself to the morning, right?

After that, all bets are off.

CHAPTER 6

Rico

I’m exhausted.

Not in the ‘I’ve been awake for over twenty-four hours and am running on pure adrenaline’ kind of way. I’m used to that. As I head into work, I pray to whoever might be listening that this isn’t going to be one of those shifts. Honestly, I’m still fifty-fifty on whether it would have been safer to call in sick.

At least that way I could have stayed with Jesse.

That isn’t a long-term solution, and I know it. But lack of sleep is making logic a little difficult to grasp right now.

Since I coaxed him out of my car—which I have no doubt he was considering stealing and pawning off for cash—Jesse has been all over the place. When he wasn’t sleeping yesterday, he swung violently between wretched self-loathing, fury at me for trying to ruin his life, borderline manic optimism, and listlessly staring at screens or simply just a wall.

I felt like I couldn’t let him out of my sight for fear he’d spiral downward again and sneak out to do something he’d regret. But I’m not his keeper. He can’t stay sober or even alive just because I want him to. However, after such an intense couple of days together, I feel like we’re fast becoming co-dependent, and that won’t do either of us any favors.

It’s almost funny to think of all those guys I’ve dated over the years. The ones I was too afraid to commit to and didn’t want to be responsible for who I let fade into obscurity.

Jesse Silverman has blown in like Dorothy riding a tornado and dropped his house on my life, turning everything upside down and making me forget my neatly organized and solitary routine. I don’t trust my judgement at the moment, which is exactly why I needed to get out of the apartment and come to work. People’s literal lives rely on me keeping a clear head.

My best friend’s little brother is making everything muddled.

This is what addicts do, though. He’s pretty much helpless to the disease that’s got a chokehold on him right now, like he’s possessed by a demon. This devil might come from a bottle, but it’s no less hellish.

You can only lead a horse to water, though. You can’t make them drink. He says he wants to give sobriety a real shot, then within the hour he’s telling me to fuck off and pacing the apartment, muttering about how just one drink won’t make a difference or do any harm.

Despite all the gnashing of teeth and explosive outbursts, though…he hasn’t actually tried to leave again. He hasn’t had a drink since the tequila he found at the back of my kitchen cupboard, so that’s over forty-eight hours at this point. I wonder how long it’s been since he can say that?

But I’ve left him all alone and I’m worried sick what he might do now he’s been left to his own devices once more. I’ve told him I’ll keep my phone on me as best I can, and he can text me anytime he wants. I hope I’m not naïve in thinking that might keep him tethered to the world beyond his current jonesing.

Ultimately, I know he has to stand on his own two feet. As much as I don’t want to abandon him, he can’t get reliant on me to be the angel on his shoulder twenty-four seven. Better for us to rip the Band-Aid off now. I’m sure I’ll be more use to him if Ican step back into my regular life for a while to recenter. Work will be a good distraction.

And it hasn’t all been bad since he asked for help. He slept that night and last night, even if I didn’t much. I stopped short of camping out on his floor, but I kept both our doors open and woke at every tiny little sound. However, it’s been clear to me that each morning his eyes have been just that bit brighter.

Before I left today, he met me in the kitchen with a travel mug of coffee, made the way I like it despite me being the one making all of the beverages over the past couple of days. “Thank you, Rico,” he’d said sincerely, locking eyes with me. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be here when you come home. I won’t do anything stupid.”

I spent the entire drive to the station replaying that short but incredibly heartfelt moment over and over in my mind. That right there is why I’m sticking my neck out for him. Why I’m trusting this time mightactuallybe different and he’s really turned a corner.

That’s the kitten-saving, candy-sharing, brave-enough-to-audition-for-Hollywood Jesse Silverman I remember from our childhood. He’s still in there, and I can’t help but feel like he’s been waiting all this time for someone else to see him, to give him a chance to come back to life.

It’s more than simply protectiveness or responsibility I feel in those good moments. It’s like a burning ember in my chest that I want to nurture into a roaring flame. I want to be there to help Jesse shine again. It would be my honor.

So that means resisting the urge to metaphorically wrap him up in cotton. As much as I need to trust he’s not going to fuck me over like he almost did, he needs to trust me back that I won’t smother him with worry or dictate his every move like a drill sergeant. It’s going to take time.

Which means he’s going to be crashing at my place for the foreseeable future. Already, I can tell I’m going to have to get used to certain things fast when it comes to sharing my living space with another person for the first time since I had housemates in my twenties. You’d think I’d be better prepared after working shifts with the One-Thirteen for so many years. We share the bunk room and showers, after all.

But apparently, it’s different when it’s a relative stranger suddenly living in my home, using all my towels and hot water. The last thing I want to do is set him off because I’m irritated by the mere fact I have to consider someone else when planning meals or picking something to watch on TV. I’m really hoping that this will actually turn out to be a positive experience for me and my control issues will naturally calm the fuck down.

Of course, the only thing that really matters is Jesse’s wellbeing. But if it helps me be less of an uptight jackass, maybe down the line it’ll make me a better boyfriend for whoever I date next.