Page 40 of Strange Lad

Addiction is forever, regardless of sobriety.

Telling my family feels like I’m setting myself up for failure. They’ll be waiting for it, anticipating it. That’s how it’s happened every other time. Nyx gets that. So she hasn’t told anyone the truth.

Up until recently, my parents still assumed the money they gave me was to help me survive on the streets, and not actually to cover my rent. I’m sure they’ve had to have some idea because, at this point, Mom just sends the money to my cash app instead of me dropping by, shivering with withdrawals and begging.

“A little. But she understands why you haven’t told her. I think she already had a feeling, too. They haven’t seen you in a long time, and that’s not normal. You know you can call her. She misses you. We all do.”

I miss my family, too. It’s just not time. Not yet. “I will eventually.”

“Well, the jig is up, broseph. Next time you ask for money, she’ll—”

“I know. I’ll handle it.”

She nods. “Okay.” Then she goes back to looking at the holes. “So, what else have you been up to?”

Distracting myself has only gone so far.

Once Nyx left, I went to Home Depot, bought my strawberry plants, stuck them in the dirt, and then worked on my bike for a while. After that, I showered and stared at my guitar case for too long before deciding to tackle that another day. Then, I rearranged a few of my MTG decks before running lateagainfor my meeting.

I hit traffic on the way there and had to pretend I didn’t see Eli watching me from the corner of the room. I almost didn’t go to my meeting, but I have to be in the right headspace to deal with…Jorge.

And group helps. A lot more than I thought it would.

So, when I’m slithering out of the building, avoiding Phoenix’s boyfriend like the plague, I stop dead in my tracks when I see my brother standing outside his car, puffing his vape. Our eyes slam into each other like colliding rockets. I’m pretty sure there is some collateral damage.

I don’t know what to do, but my stomach revolts instantly. My lunch crawls up my throat. Images and sounds assault me. Flashes of his laugh through the door, asking where I was while I sobbed face down on a pillow.

I shake myself out of the memory as Phoenix stuffs his vape in his pocket, his long hair blowing in the breeze.

“Oli!” he calls and runs to me.

I can’t do this. I can’t.

My pulse hammers with rage, and my eye twitches.

Glancing over to where my car is parked, I dart in that direction. Phoenix bellows, demanding I stop andfucking listen to him.He lost that chance. He fucking lost it. I tried to reach out, tried to cough up the horrors that I’ve lived through when I was at my lowest. And he ignored me. My body slams into the side of my car while I drop the key fob.

“Please, Oli!”

He approaches fast, but I’m faster.

Snatching the fob off the ground, I unlock the doors and jump inside. I start the car, throw it into reverse, and narrowly miss hitting him with my bumper. He jumps out of the way, eyes wide and wet. I peel out of the parking spot with a screech, slam the shifter into drive, and take off like a bat out of hell. He justdoesn’t get it. He never will. The worst part is that I don’t know I can trust him despite his attempts now.

Phoenixknowswho broke me. He knowshimwell.

What if he doesn’t believe me? What if he thinks I made it all up?

He’s said in the past that nothing bad has ever happened to me. Nothing should’ve made me an addict because I was raised in a loving home.

Fuck him.

Fuck.

Him.

I shake my head, swipe at my face, and drive. I don’t even know where because I don’t want him tailing me back to my place.

Eventually, I end up at a bar I used to come to before I got clean. My fingers squeeze the leather of my steering wheel as I pant in my car, nauseous and so fucking upset.

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