Page 140 of Alphas Like Us
Charlie slips out a piece of paper and passes it to Easton. “This is a phone number to a doctor in Philadelphia. He’ll prescribe whatever you want. Just give him a call, let him know who you are, and you can get your pillslegally.”
What thefuck.
Easton frowns and reads the paper. “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this forme?”
“Because you’re going to stop taking Xander’s pills,” Charliesays.
Easton shakes his head. “I’m not—I mean, I am, but…” He looks to me. “You do know that Xander gets refills about a month before he’s even out. Forme.”
I don’t move or flinch or react.I didn’tknow.
The boy glances back into his house, then comes forward and shuts the door behind him. Fully on the front porch. He speaks more to me than to Charlie. “My parents aren’t as nice as yours…I tell my mom I’m not doing well, and she tells me it’s summer allergies.” He shakes his head. “Dude, I wouldnevertake pills Xander needed. That’d be…that’s fuckedup.”
This…is not what I expected. I try to grasp onto the truth. Uncover it. Xander was helping this kid? I don’t understand, and it’s still not okay that my brother was giving someone his meds. Even if he had extra. A pressure mounts on my chest, something screaming at me:I don’t know what’s right. Fuck. I don’t know what’sright.
I crawl onward. “Why were you bragging about itthen?”
His face crushes. “I…because Colton Ford found out I was getting into LARPing with your brother. He kept calling mea…”
“A pussy?” I’mguessing.
“Yeah…” Henods.
I had that word slung in my face in high school too manytimes.
“Your friend is an idiot,” Charlie saysbluntly.
Agreed.
Easton shifts his weight. “I panicked and I said that stupid thing, and then the next day, I told Xander and apologized. He knows.” His brows knit. “And shouldn’t you know this? He would’ve told you…” Realization floods his face. “Wait, he doesn’t know you’rehere?”
Charlie and I stay silent, not giving information to astranger.
In the quiet, Easton folds the paper like a treasure. Unable to look Charlie in the eyes, he tells him, “Thanks forthis.”
I’m uneasy, and I want to interject. But I can’t figure out what to say fast enough. And I wonder if the right thing would’ve been having my parents talk to his parents. Let them help him. But what if his parents are assholes and it makes his life drasticallyworse?
“No problem,” Charlie says, and I pass my cousin his crutch. He braces his weight onthem.
Easton steps back to his door. “I have to go.” And to me, he adds, “Xander really never mentioned me?”Notonce.
I shake myhead.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my head heavy on my shoulders for too manyreasons.
He nods, a little hurt, and then he slips back inside hishouse.
Charlie and I leave the front porch, and as he slowly descends the few steps, Charlie tells me, “Well, that was not exactly how I saw thatgoing.”
I watch him to make sure he doesn’t trip, and when we walk across the long driveway, I keep shaking my head. “You know a doctor who’s writing illegal prescriptions, and you just gave a sixteen-year-old their number,” I say outloud.
Dumbfounded.
“And I solved the issue,” Charlie tells me. “It’sdone.”
“That doctor should be stripped of his license, and that kid could use that contact for something other than antidepressants,” I counter. “If he gets hooked onopioids—”
“Not my problem.” His crutches make athunk thunknoise on thecement.
