“Make it to the ceremony?” Sean smirks. “Don’t worry. I don’t have a dealer in this town. I’ll be there.”
“That’s not fucking funny,” I tell him.
Sean sobers. “I know. But as dumb as it sounds, it helps to remind myself that I have a problem. It’s when I convinced myself I was cured that things got bad.”
I go silent, because Sean’s never mentioned his reasoning before. There were just phases when he was better, and phases when he was bad. “That doesn’t sound dumb,” I say quietly.
He smiles and glances up at the new banner hanging from the rafters again. “Mom said you’re going to UPenn in the fall?”
“Yeah.”
“For political science?” There’s some amusement in his voice. “You gonna be a politician?”
“No. I’m planning to work for an organization that addresses the harms of drug use and implement policy solutions. There aren’t many organizations out there, so a master’s will mean a better shot at getting hired somewhere.”
“Fuck,” Sean says softly. He tips his head back, looking up at the bright banner again. “You won a fucking national championship, man. I couldn’t believe it when Mom told me. Still can’t, sometimes.”
“Me neither.”
“I can’t believe I missed it.”
“Me neither.”
He exhales. “I’m sorry, Hunter. I should have been there.”
I rest my elbows on my knees. “We don’t have to get into it.”
“Yeah, we do. I’m trying to tell you I know I fucked up. And then I fucked up again. And again. And again. Times that by a hundred. The more I did, the easier it got. But I want you to know thatIknow I fucked up, for whatever that’s worth.”
“You didn’t answer any of my calls. You almost fuckingdied, and you stopped talking to me.”
“I was embarrassed, Hunter. You don’t know what it’s like, to have people you love bail you out over and over again. To be so grateful and also to hate them for it. There were times I woke up and wish Ihaddied, so you and Mom and Dad wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore.”
An awful thought occurs to me. “Did you overdose on purpose?”
Sean blows out a long sigh. “No. It was a bad batch that I mixed with booze and some other shit.”
“Jesus, Sean.”
“It’s addictive. Not just the drugs, but doing something you know is bad for you. Dancing with the devil, you know. Or you don’t. You never had that impulse. It’s why you’re graduating with honors and heading to an Ivy, and I’m living with Mom and Dad.”
“You’re just letting your demons win,” I say.
“Maybe. It’ll be a lot harder to get back to that place after waking up to white walls and Mom crying, I can tell you that much.”
I flinch, the picture he’s painting too close to the image in my head when I was speeding down the freeway.
“You didn’t call that night.”
“I was home. I didn’t think I needed help. And—” He clears his throat. “You asked me not to.”
I close my eyes. Fuck. That’s exactly what I was worried about.
“I never should have been calling you, Hunter. I knew that, even high. It started because I was jealous. You were the golden boy, while I was the screwup, and I wanted to drag you down with me. And then, after you came here, it became the only way I could talk to you. I wasn’t going to call to tell my little brother about the job I lost or the junkie I’d fucked for free drugs, so I called you when I was high. Nice song choice, by the way.”
A reluctant smile curves up the corner of my mouth. “Thanks.”
“I’m not going to promise anything, because I’m so sick of breaking them. But I’m trying to get better. Iwantto get better. And don’t let me pull you into my shit. You should take whatever job you want, not?—”