Chapter 16

                                    

                                          
I handed the cabbie money before I climbed out. I was trying not to think too much about it but in all reality it was consuming my thoughts.  Everything was piling up on me. I felt like I was drowning. 
                          
When I finally got a call back from Payton I had chickened out on telling her. She hadn't had a lot of time to talk and seemed distracted, so I barely mentioned my mom's impromptu visit. Maybe it was better, her not knowing. If she had a lot on her plate I didn't want to burden her further.  I hadn't spoken to her since. 
                          
I pulled my phone out and called her. My heart pounding with every step I took and every ring that passed. I wanted her to answer. Maybe if she answered I'd turn around. I'd go home. My little slip up would be nothing more than that: a little slip up. But her phone kept ringing and her voicemail came on. 
                          
"Hey, you're probably busy. Just thought I'd call. Love you, bye." I told her voicemail. 
                          
I kept trying to reassure myself that she was busy. That was the only reason she'd recently become more distracted and less available. It had only been a day or two, less than a week for sure. It wasn't me. It wasn't because she came to the realization that I was everything my father always said I was. That I was useless, a fuck up, a burden. But those thoughts gnawed at me, clawing away any assurances I once had. 
                          
I followed my phone to an old home. It was right on the edge of being in a good area and a bad area. I used to know a dealer that lived just inside the bad area. He probably still lived there. My mind made the jump to thinking about getting high in a flash. That itch spread through my blood, consuming my thoughts, feeding my doubts and insecurities. 
                          
I wish I could say I fought back. 
                          
But I climbed the battered wooden steps to the front door, music seeping through the open windows. I pulled the door open, the blast of body heat, booze and weed nearly knocking me over. It was dark, a few lights creating shadows off the bodies that lingered. I shuffled my way in, not sure what my intent was. I had tried not to think about what would happen once I was here. Even though I knew. 
                          
I toured the house, getting a sense of things. I had thought about leaving more than once and had even walked back to the door. But when push came to shove I didn't have the shove to leave. I was making my third tour of the house when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
                          
"Luie!" I turned in the tight quarters coming face to face with Tre. "Liam's been looking for you! He's upstairs! Have a beer!"
                          
He had a red solo cup full of foaming beer shoved toward me. The angel was screaming "NO!!!" but I took it anyway. 
                          
"Thanks!" I shouted back over the music and noise of conversations. 
                          
He nodded his head, drifting away into the sea of people. I looked down at the beer in my hand, I wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. It's hard, constantly battling yourself and your thoughts. I knew I shouldn't. I knew I shouldn't even be at the party. I knew I should come clean about smoking pot the other day. I knew all of it. But my mind always had a reasonable explanation. A counter argument that made it seem okay. Like now, while I was standing at a party surrounded by my downfall.  It starts with my brain saying "well you don't have to drink it. Addicts have to" And it's followed by "one drink won't hurt" and that's followed up by "is not like you're back to snorting coke or popping pills". 
                          
I got shoved from behind, sending me stumbling forward, cold beer sloshing over my hand. I righted myself, gaining my balance back just as quick as I had been forced off it. I looked over my shoulder watching as a brawl was starting to form. I slipped through the crowd toward the stairs, unconsciously bringing my dripping hand to my mouth. My brain caught up with my actions in hyper speed. It was shit beer and already warm from my body heat but the tiny amount of alcohol hit my system like a wrecking ball. I discarded the cup on a step, wiping the remainder of the beer on my jeans as my heart pounded in my chest.