Page 62 of Before You
“Dude, what is going on?”
“I’m . . .” My voice falters, chickening out at the last second. “What happened last night?”
“I found you in the kitchen with a cheerleader still trying to feel you up after you pushed her off of you. You were in rough shape, so I brought you here because the party was just down the street from the dorms. JJ, do I need to call someone? Asher?” Charlie asks, and it feels a little easier to take a breath now, knowing even out of my mind, I was right about wanting nothing to do with another girl.
“Where’s my jacket and phone?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.
She squints, staring at me. “Are you insane?”
“Charlie, I need my phone. My brother—he. . . I’m the only one he calls. I need my phone,” I say, and I can feel my heart begin to race in my chest again.
Charlie pushes herself up and grabs the jacket hanging on the back of the door, tossing it at me. “Your phone is in the pocket,” she says, and my breath catches.She would have said if she found my pills.“You took off the jacket when we got here last night, but I kept your phone. I didn’t think you should be calling anyone in the state you were in.”
I reach in the pockets, and I hate how the second my fingers graze over the pills that somehow lasted through everything last night, I relax. Instead of grabbing them, I pull my phone from the other pocket with my keys still in it, quickly turning it on to see the only call I missed was from Marley. “Shit,” I mumble.
“When I saw Marley texted, I let her know you had too much to drink and I brought you back here.”
I look at her, embarrassed, but grateful for how she took care of me last night. Charlie’s a better friend than I deserve.
“Thank you, Charlie. I’m sorry,” I say, my mouth feeling like it’s been stuffed full of cotton.
She pulls a lock of her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, twisting it around her finger. “You didn’t answer my question,” she says, and I’m not sure there’s a chance in hell I can play this off without giving Charlie something.
“Which one?”
Her mouth flattens. “Do I need to call my cousin?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, hating myself for it even more when her eyes widen. I recognize the fear in them because I know what it’s like to be afraid. I’m even more ashamed when I remember we’re in the dorms because Charlotte’s only eighteen.
I’ve known her for a couple of years now since her folks live in the area, and Asher started bringing me with him to visit when we got sick of dining hall food freshman year. I think part of it was because he could tell I was homesick.
“It scared me last night how out of it you were. I mean, I’ve seen you drunk, JJ, but it was a different level. And this morning? I . . . I don’t even know what to say,” Charlie says, and I look away, my hands gripping tightly into fists.
She’s a kid—it’s not her burden to shoulder.
“I just had too much. I promise I’m fine, Charlotte.” I reach to ruffle her hair while using the wrong name, hoping to make her smile a little.She doesn’t.
“I don’t think you are, but I hope you know Ash and I are here for you if you’re in any kind of trouble.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I’m not sure what else I can say.
Charlie stands up, catching me by surprise when she wraps her arms around my torso. “Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree, returning her hug.
She steps back, wrinkling her nose. “Sorry, but you smell awful. I don’t think you should let anyone come near you without showering first.”
I lift the collar of my shirt up, grimacing at the stench hitting me a second later. “Gross,” I mumble, tempted to just take it off to dump it in a trash can, and wear only my hoodie on my walk back to the house.
“Do you want me to take you home?” Charlie asks, and I shake my head, mustering a smile.
“I think the fresh air will do me good. Thanks again for looking out for me,” I say, but honestly, I’m starting to get nauseous again.
I know I look like a fucking wreck, but thankfully, it’s early enough in the morning that most people are still asleep, I can complete my walk of shame without too many prying eyes on me.
Showering helps me feel a little better, but I’m not sure there’s anything possible to change how disappointed I am in myself for putting Charlotte in that position last night. I should wake Asher up to talk to him, but I know once I open my mouth I can’t take it back. It’ll change everything.
So instead, I sit at my desk and I write to the girl who makes me want to be the guy she believes I am, haunted by the bottle of pills sitting in the drawer a few inches away.
