Page 46 of Last Boy

“Poppy, I’m here right now because I couldn’t stand the thought of you drinking and getting taken advantage of.” I cup her face. “Also, for years, I’ve woken up every morning worried that today would be the day you met the man who’d be yours forever. And it’s still no different.” I swallow before breathing in her sweet cinnamon scent. “I’m not ready to let you go.” I breathe out a laugh. “What the fuck am I saying? I’ll never be ready.”

Her bloodshot eyes look up at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell the police officers the truth.” Her lip trembles. “I haven’t been a good friend.”

I think those words are something I’ve waited to hear for so long. But now, they don’t really matter because I realized weeks ago that I never had a right to be mad to begin with. Not really anyway.

Pressing my lips to her forehead, I kiss her warm skin. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry that I abandoned you. All of you.”

She’s silent before she pulls back, pushing her head into the headrest. “Walker…I don’t feel so good.”

All at once, she unbuckles and slides out of the seat and pukes in the parking lot. Pulling her hair back, I find an elastic on her wrist and tie it up before rubbing her back.

“It’ll pass,” I mutter as she throws up again.

“I’ve never drunk this much before,” she croaks out, still keeled over. “I never want to again either.”

Once she stops getting sick, I wipe the tears from her eyes, causing her makeup to run under them, making black streaks. Normally, she doesn’t even wear makeup, but given her performance tonight, she has it on.

“I’m so embarrassed that you just saw me do that,” she groans. “Literally want to die right now.”

“I’ve seen you throw up a lot more times before tonight.” I chuckle. “You forget those times you had the flu as a kid.”

“You always stayed home from school to be with me,” she whispers. “And miraculously, you’d never get sick.”

“Tough immune system, babe.” I wink before taking her hand and directing her back into the truck. “Let me give you a ride home so you can sleep this off.”

She doesn’t protest, but instead climbs into the truck and closes her eyes again.

Poppy

I wake up, and right away, I’m greeted by a pounding so deep in my skull that I can hardly lift my head. And the nausea? Oh…the freaking nausea.

I’m never drinking again.

The last thing I remember is leaving Club 83 with Walker. I don’t really know how he got there, but I know he was there.

Memories of me puking my guts out and him tying my hair up and rubbing my back float back into my mind. He was so sweet. But I’m still so embarrassed. It’s one thing that he saw me throw up as a kid. It’s another to know we’ve hooked up, and he saw me splattering all the contents inside my stomach into the parking lot.

Kill me now.

Turning slightly, I see the note on my nightstand with two pills and a glass of what looks to be Coca-Cola beside them.

I had early practice, and from the sounds of you sawing wood, you were sleeping pretty well, so I didn’t want to wake you. Take the Tylenol and drink the flat-ass Coke. It’ll help, I swear.

—W

P.S. You still drool when you sleep.

I quickly wipe my mouth, but my head is pounding too hard for me to be embarrassed right now. I’d probably care more if he was someone new in my life. But the thing is, he and I have been through everything together. He’s seen it all. Embarrassingly enough.

Throwing the pills into my mouth, I swallow them down with what has to be the flattest glass of Coca-Cola in the world. And slowly, I slide out of bed and head to the shower.

I have no idea where last night left Walker and me. But I know one thing: when I think about seeing him again…my heart races a little, and my chest warms.

I know that I’m not in a place to give him all of me. And to be honest, there’s not much of me to give. But staying away from him is impossible. Because just like when we were kids…we always found our way to each other. I’m not sure if that will ever change.

13

Poppy

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