A tiny voice in my head was kind enough to point out I was caressing a toilet with my cheek, but I wasn’t sober enough to care. It’s disgusting, but the cold porcelain felt too good against my hot skin. I’d lost count of how many times I’d thrown up, but unfortunately remembered the first… right in front of the whole town. I was completely mortified, but still a little too drunk for the full shame to set in.

There was a knock. “How are you doing in there?” Bryan asked through the bathroom door.

I groaned in response. “Better than some, worse than others,” I replied with a hic.

“Can I come in?”

“Whatever you’re into,” I muttered.

Bryan slowly opened the door, a glass of soda water in one hand and a sleeve of crackers in the other. Even though I knew they would soak up what was left of the alcohol in my system, the thought of eating was nauseating. I opened one eye groggily and gestured for him to set them on the counter.

“Thanks. It’ll make a nice change from throwing up stomach bile,” I grumbled.

“You sound a lot more sober,” Bryan chuckled. “You’ll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, though. Don’t worry, I won’t tell your mom.”

“God, I hadn’t even thought about that.” It’s not like I cared about her knowing. She’d found me drunk plenty of times. I just didn’t want to listen to her harping on for a half hour on the phone tomorrow.

Bryan took a seat on the side of the bathtub. Just the sight of the cold bottle of beer in his hand made my stomach turn, but I said nothing. He was being so nice to me already. Since Mom abandoned me in Tellure Hollow, Bryan had been the only person I felt any connection with. Even though we were cousins, we’d never spent any real time together. It wasn’t because he was family. He was the only person who didn’t put pressure on me or demand too much.

I sensed he wanted to talk about something more serious, but was unsure of how I would take it. Always full of tact, I groped along the floor to pat his foot. “If you need to lecture me, go ahead. I won’t hold it against you.”

“It’s not a lecture. Liz is really trying her best, you know,” he said tentatively. “She can be kinda harsh sometimes, I know that. But she has a big heart.”

I leaned against the cabinet, grabbed a towel from the bar above my head, and wiped my face. With my eyes closed, I tried to stop the room from spinning like a tilt-a-whirl. “I honestly didn’t mean to mess anything up tonight.”

“I know you didn’t,” Bryan murmured. He took a long drag from the beer. It clinked against the side of the tub when he set it down. “Do you remember my dad at all?”

“Vaguely,” I said as I tried to dredge up the hazy images. Bryan’s dad was my mom’s brother. It was difficult for me to separate my genuine memories from the media coverage that haunted the family. Between Bryan’s career-ending wreck, his dad’s death, and the public fascination that surrounded all of it, I wasn’t sure if the images I had of him were my own or ones the tabloids used during the frenzy.

“I know it’s not exactly the same, but I really lost my shit when my dad died. It took me years to get my head on straight, and it was Liz who helped put me back together.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’s very healing,” I snickered. I pulled my knees into my chest and held them close as I let out a wry laugh. “If this is your idea of proposing a threesome with your wife…”

Bryan thankfully laughed, understanding my humor for what it was. It wasn’t ever easy for me to talk about my dad’s accident, even with somebody who I knew had felt similar pain. I could feel him trying to steer the conversation towards a schism I’d rather ignore, but I knew I owed him an explanation for my behavior.

“It was a year ago today,” I muttered.

The air between us grew still. “Ah.”

Yup, I thought, staring at the ceiling. What can you say to that?

“Did you know that her dad is in the Marines, too?” Bryan pressed.

I shook my head, a mistake given my current condition. That fact surprised me, though. Maybe that’s what I sensed about her, that harsh military upbringing I knew too well. I liked to imagine all military families walked around with a green camo aura.

“He deployed during the first Gulf War, when she was a little girl. That’s a pain and stress I could never understand.” Bryan leaned forward on his elbows, swinging the bottle of beer from his fingers. “You two have a lot more in common than you think.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” I snorted. I’d meant it as a joke but found it tinged with too much truth to be funny.

“Maybe,” he responded. “I know your head is all fucked up right now, and I’m not saying you need to un-fuck it straightaway. Lord knows there’s a lot of therapy to be found in self-destruction. But all of us are here to make sure you don’t slip too far down that slope. We understand a lot more than you think we do.”

I was stunned to silence. Bryan and I were practically strangers, sharing only blood and no history. But this man had managed to cut straight to the core, spoke to me like an adult when all the others in my life never had. Everyone sympathized with my pain while Bryan empathized. He understood and he didn’t judge me for trying to cope in the only ways I knew how.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, still a little unsettled by seeing such similar eyes looking back at me. “I get it. I am trying, really. I… sometimes, it’s like I’m sabotaging myself.” Blaming the alcohol, I couldn’t believe I gotten that honest.

Bryan nodded sagely, necked the rest of his beer, and stood up. “I think you’re going to be all right,” he said, smoothing the top of my head. “Except for tomorrow,” he chuckled. “You’re gonna be hurting something awful tomorrow morning. Let me know if you need anything, but you should get to bed as soon as you’re sure you’re done retching.”

“Good night. Thanks.”

I sat by the toilet, feeling more sober than I had in months. I didn’t think my mom had deliberately done it, but she’d sent me to the one place in the world where I had half a chance of healing.