Page 74 of Voices
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“I think it’s closer to noon,” I whisper against his lips making him laugh.
“You might be right on that one.” He laughs again before standing up and walking around in front of me to sit in the other chair. “How long have you been up? Ryder said you’ve been out here for two hours. Did you go back to sleep after filling in my tattoos?”
I shake my head. “I couldn’t fall back to sleep. You woke up around seven and I finished coloring around eight-thirty.” I shrug looking back to the courtyard as two girls do the walk of shame holding their heels.
Sensing him looking at me, I turn to see his blue eyes studying me.
“Why didn’t you talk to me this week?”
I think I might have hurt him by trying to protect him.
“I felt like I was more of a burden than a friend last weekend. You shouldn’t have to take care of me the first time we hang out together. I felt guilty for stealing your weekend because I couldn’t keep my shit together for more than a few minutes.” I chew my lip and look down at my hands playing with the drawstring of the sweats that I stole. “I’m not the best person to be around at the beginning of October, or at all really. I-I have a past, and when it shows its ugly face one time, it’s like it has a chokehold on me and the only way to escape is to…”
Fuck, am I about to tell him this? He makes it so easy to open up to without feeling like I’m being judged.
“Look at me, Charlie.”
I swallow and lift my head to see him holding out his hand. I slide my cold hand across the table to his warm one.
“You are not a burden. Iwantedto spend the weekend with you regardless of how it was spent. And I enjoyed every minute of it. Yes, there were some moments that worried me, but we worked through them. And once you came back to me, I learned of your love for fantasy movies and how insanely talented you are with not only with a pencil but with paint and clay.” He rubs over my knuckles with his thumb. “I hate that you went through something that causes so much stress that you feel the need to escape. But I’m here and I want to help ease some of that stress and anxiety.”
There he goes, being sweet to me again. The back of my eyes sting as tears try to come out. I sniffle and take in a shaky breath.
“I, umm, I use prescription drugs to numb my mind when the voices get too loud and weed to calm my anxiety. My mother replaces the pills anytime I get low, even though I’ve never asked her to.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek as I nervously wait for his response. When he takes longer than a minute to say something, my knee starts bouncing so fast the chair shakes.
“Come here.” He pulls my hand until I get up and walk up to him, swallowing nervously.
Does he think I’m an addict on top of everything else?
Why the hell did you tell him about the pills?
And that your mother is basically your supplier.
Good job, now he’s going to be even more worried about your stupid ass.
You’re so fucked up!
His thumb rubs over my cheek, wiping away the tear that slipped out. I choke on a sob and cover my face. He pulls my hands from my face, then grabs my hips and tugs me down to straddle his lap. I press my face into his neck as I try to prevent another sob from coming out.
“Shh, I’ve got you baby.” He rubs my back as he holds me close. “You’re okay.” He kisses my forehead, keeping his lips there for a few beats before pulling away and wiping the tears from my face. “I’m sorry you feel the need to use drugs. I know you said you were seeing a therapist and received medicine. Is that what helps quiet your mind?”
It’s a half-truth. The originals came from the multiple shrinks I saw in my early teens. I was never allowed to see the bottles or know what I was taking. They’d be sitting on my dresser when I woke up and because I was an even bigger mess back then, I took them without question. They worked until they didn’t and the second my mother noticed my mood changing, I woke up the next day to three new pills. That lasted until I was eighteen. She stopped giving them to me cold turkey and by then I was addicted to the feeling of being numbed by them. Looking back, I think she did it to mess up my senior year and all the projects I had going on for college.
When I was unpacking my bag after moving into my townhouse, I found seven orange pill bottles sitting on top of my clothes along with a note in her handwriting.
Charles,
Take these so you won’t embarrass your brother. He needs to focus on hockey and not deal with your mess.
She’s been refilling the bottles ever since.
“Charlie?” Shane’s voice brings me back to the present.
I blink rapidly to rid my mother’s face from my mind.
