| |
Aiden was going to puke. And it wasn't just the thought of rehab.
He'd been sick ever since he'd woken up in the hospital the day before, but he'd been smart enough not to eat.
He should have skipped the stupid cheeseburger. His stomach had been growling, and he'd smelled the food. Like an idiot, he'd gone to investigate, then gotten sucked into lunch with Dad and her.
Sam.
Stupid name for a girl. And so what if the food had been good? She'd probably poisoned it.
He hated her. Dad had dragged him up here because he wanted to see his girlfriend. This spontaneous trip had nothing to do with Aiden. It was all about Sam. Dad didn't care about Aiden at all.
Ugh, he was being ridiculous. He slammed his hand into his pillow, which only made his hand hurt. And his head.
Because the shakes and nausea weren't bad enough.
He shivered, wiped sweat off his forehead.
This totally sucked.
If he ever felt normal again, he swore, he swore on...on some dead person's grave...that he'd never take another drug in his life.
Crap. He needed one. Just one, to take the edge off.
He swallowed the nausea down, stared at the ceiling, waited for it to pass.
Images of rehab filled his mind. What would it be like? Prison, probably. With guards and locks and crap. No way.
He pushed those thoughts away, and thought about the party. No, that was no good. He hated to think what he'd looked like, what he'd said and done, that had landed him in the ER. Had he totally embarrassed himself? He was probably lucky he hadn't crapped himself or taken off all his clothes or something.
The last thing he remembered was laughing like a hyena. Everyone had been laughing, right? Or maybe not. Maybe they'd been laughing at him.
Idiot, idiot, idiot.
If only he could make some calls, find out what had happened. Except Dad had taken his phone. Aiden would probably be lucky if he ever got it back.
He had to do something. Anything to take his mind off this, all of it. He couldn't sit in this room by himself anymore.
He sat up. And waited.
Okay, his stomach was better. Not perfect, but not about to hurl lunch all over the bed, either. He stood, didn't move, just in case. His legs ached. Everything ached. He had to work to stand up straight. To look normal.
He opened the door and peeked into the hallway, listening.
He'd heard a car leave a little while ago. Maybe an hour. Maybe ten minutes. He had no idea. Did that mean Sam was gone?
He crept out to the living room. Empty.
In the kitchen, he saw Dad through the back door. He was on the phone on the porch. His forehead was propped on his hand, his fingers messing up his stupid crew cut. His shoulders were hunched.
That wasn't how Dad was supposed to look. Where was the confidence? Where was his I-know-more-than-you-so-get-in-line attitude?
Aiden had always wanted to smack that attitude away. Looked like he'd finally done it.
Funny how that didn't make him feel better.
He was on his way back to the bedroom when he heard a car door slam.
He obviously wasn't thinking straight, because he opened the front door. And who else could it be but Sam? Back again.
She was leaning in the backseat of her SUV. She turned, spotted him.
Crap. Now he'd have to be nice.
He stepped outside. "Need some help?"
Her jaw dropped as if it had never occurred to her he could be polite. She managed to force out, "If you wouldn't mind.”
He joined her at the car. She grabbed two grocery bags and backed up to let him get the rest. He leaned in, saw what she'd bought. "Pepsi. Thanks." Fine. So she wasn't a total witch. Unless she'd just bought it to get on his good side. Not a friggin' chance.
He pulled out the two twelve-packs and the remaining bag.
"Does your dad like Pepsi, too?" she asked. "I didn't think to ask him."
Was she serious? "You don't already know?"
She stepped back, and Aiden closed the door with his hip and started toward the front door.
"I've only met your father once in person," she said. "It was last spring when he helped out some friends of mine."
Aiden maneuvered all the groceries into one hand, opened the front door, and stepped back to let her go first. Showing off his manners, since she obviously thought he was a complete screw-up. "I figured, since you let us use this place..."
"We're friends." She headed to the kitchen. "We talk on the phone sometimes."
Aiden dumped the groceries and soda on the counter as something occurred to him. He turned to face her. "You're the person he has those long conversations with."
She shrugged, busied herself unpacking the grocery bags. "Like I said, we're friends."
Friends who hold hands. Which was more than friends. "Looked like more than that earlier."
She put away two boxes of cereal. "This is hard for him, Aiden. You must know that."
No kidding. He opened one of the cases of soda and started stowing the cans in the fridge. "I'm not an idiot. I know this is hard for him." He slammed the fridge shut. "It's hard for me, too."
She tilted her head to the side, and her eyes filled with...what was that? Pity? She stepped forward and rested her hand on his arm. "Of course it is. I can't imagine what you're going through. Your pain—it's breaking your dad's heart. I know that's hard to understand. He loves you so much."
He stared at her hand.
She let him go and stepped back. "Sorry."
He opened the fridge again and grabbed a Pepsi. Opened it. Took a sip. It as warm. What was he supposed to say now? Could he just walk away?
He turned, focused on making eye contact and not hunching over. Both were hard.
She sat at the kitchen table and nodded to the seat beside her.
Right. Like he wanted to chat.
"And I tend to be like that," she said. "Touchy-feely, my brother called it. He used to get so mad when we were little because I always wanted to be right beside him. I was trying to comfort your dad. That's what you saw."
Whatever. But she seemed to be waiting for him to say something. "It's not like him and Mom are ever going to get back together."
"Do you want them to?"
Aiden looked beyond her, out the back door to where Dad was still on the phone. He was looking at his laptop screen now. Aiden thought of his mother, of how different they were. "They can't stand each other. And my mom..." He wasn't going to talk to the witch about his mother. "They hate each other. They're so totally different."
"Funny how you can love them both, right? Even though they're so different?"
"They're my parents, so I kind of don't have a choice."
"Love is always a choice."
He shrugged, sipped his Pepsi. It churned in his stomach, and he hunched over despite himself. He'd needed company, but now he wanted to be alone. He knew in an hour, maybe less, he'd yearn for company again, for a distraction. There was no distraction from this... this pain. "I'm gonna go lie down."
"Let me know if you need anything."
He reached his bedroom and stepped inside and set the soda can on the nightstand. Dad was busy, and Sam was here to distract him.
Maybe Aiden could find his cell phone.
Dad had hidden it somewhere. Probably in his room. Aiden went back to the door, listened for noise. Sounded like Sam was in the kitchen.
Aiden stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him, then crept to Dad's room.
And searched. The bureau, the closet, Dad's suitcase.
No cell phone.
The master bathroom, all the drawers, even inside Dad's shaving kit. No luck.
Where had Dad hidden it?
Crap. He had to find it. Had to call Matty and find out what was going on at home. See if he could figure out what had happened Friday night. Had Matty been at the party? Aiden tried to remember.
Couldn't, but Matty had to have been there. He'd said he would be.
The phone wasn't here. Aiden stepped out of Dad's room and froze.
Sam was in the hallway, looking right at him.
They stared at each other a moment too long before she said, "Are you okay?"
"I was just... Yeah, I'm fine."
"I was going to the bathroom."
He brushed past her and entered his room. "It's empty." He slammed the door behind him and collapsed on his bed. He'd failed to find his phone. Everything hurt. He wanted to curl up in a ball and die.
Had Sam thought it was odd he'd been in his dad's room? Would she question him? What were the chances she'd just go away?
With this chick, slim to none.
Sure enough, a minute later, there was a knock.
"What!"
She opened the door a crack. "You were looking for something?" she asked.
Now that he was lying down, he wasn't sure he could move, so he didn't bother. "Are you a cop, too?"
"I wasn't spying," she said. "I just needed the bathroom."
"Don't you have anything better to do than lurk around here?"
There was a pause. He waited to hear his door close, but no such luck.
"What were you looking for?" she asked.
He sat up, furious. He turned to face her, to scream at her, to tell her to get the heck out of his business. But she looked so friggin' sweet, all sympathy and friggin' kindness. And Dad would be ticked if he yelled at his girlfriend.
So fine. Whatever. "I was looking for my phone."
"Oh," she said. "Have you asked for it back?"
Duh. "He said maybe later."
"Any particular reason you need it?"
For the thousandth time, he stifled the urge to tell her to mind her own friggin' business. But maybe...maybe she could help him. Dad obviously liked her and listened to her. It couldn't hurt to suck up a little. "Like, all of my friends saw me get taken to the hospital the other night. I need to check in, tell everybody I'm okay."
"Oh." She nodded like she got it. "That makes sense. I guess all you can do is ask again."
"Maybe you could—?"
"Nope." She smiled, like that would make it better. "I'm not dumb enough to jump in that battle. You can figure this out without me."
Aiden lay back down and faced the wall. "We can do all of this without you."
He waited for her to leave, but she still didn't.
"Have you apologized," she said, "acknowledged the"—a pause, like she was searching for a word—"the fear you caused him?"
Apologized? Yeah, he'd done that, hadn't he? Like, maybe he hadn't done what she said exactly, but he'd said he was sorry. Right?
"I'm just saying," she continued, "maybe if you start there, your father would be more willing to let you use your phone." She backed out of the doorway. "Sorry to intrude."