Page 71 of From Now On

And I’m so mad—so fucking furious—at my brother, that I can’t even find words.

Six months. He’s been sober for six months. Living at home, showing up for his job at one of the fast-food joints in town, even reconnecting with some of his friends who still live in Casper. He was gaining weight. Going for runs. Sleeping normally, aside from his night shifts.

My mom was worried about leaving him to move me into Holt. My dad and I convinced her it was fine, that Sean was completely recovered and wouldn’t relapse.

We were wrong. All that progress—all the stress and worry and small steps forward—is gone. Slithered down the drain back to rock bottom.

Sean is talking, but I’m still spiraling.

This isn’t like the other times. I’m in Washington, and I’m not supposed to return to Wyoming until Thanksgiving. I won’t be there to see the cycle start all over again, and I’m relieved. I feel soguiltyfor how relieved I am. Sean makes his problems everyone’s problems, and I’ve never had any form of escape from it before.

“Hunter!”

“What?” I snap back.

“Are you listening?”

“No, Sean, I’m not. I don’t know why you called me, but you need to deal with whatever the fuck it is before Mom and Dad get home. If you still have pills, flush them down the damn toilet. Call your sponsor and?—”

“One of the neighbors called the cops. They’re arresting me. I can’t do shit. I need you to call Mom and Dad, so they’re not worried where I am when they get home.”

He thinksthat’swhat they’ll be worried about?

“You got arrested? You’re in jail? How do you have your cell phone?”

“They sent Officer Peterson.” One of Dad’s fishing buddies. “He let me use my cell, but he’s taking it now. I gotta go.”

The call disconnects before I can ask any more questions.

I stare straight ahead at Holt’s brick library in utter disbelief. I’m sitting and still, but it feels like a seismic shift is happening beneath my feet.

I thought all of this was in the past. I committed to Holt because I wanted a fresh start where no one knew me as Sean Morgan’s little brother, and because I thought I could leave. That the days of Sean stealing cash and disappearing for twenty-four hours and calling me to confess were over.

I call my mom, because I’m not sure what else to do. My dad’s the one driving. They’re probably only an hour or two away from Casper by now. They left as soon as all of my belongings were moved into my dorm room.

She answers on the second ring. “Hey, honey. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you tonight. Is everything okay?”

My left hand clenches into a fist, nails biting into my palm deep enough to break skin. “With me, yeah. But Sean called.”

“Oh.” She says a lot with that single syllable.

And I know my mom is experiencing the same sinking sensation that’s making me feel nauseous.

“He got arrested. Detective Peterson was at the house with him. I—I don’t know any details, but he sounded—he sounded like…before.”

“Okay.” She sounds years older than when she answered the phone, like all the emotion has been leached out of her voice. I can hear my dad in the background, asking what’s going on.

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I know you were worried about leaving?—”

She interrupts. “None of this is your fault, Hunter.Noneof it.”

My dad’s questions die off in the background as he realizes why I’m calling.

“Let me… Let me know if I can do anything, and what happened, and?—”

“I will,” my mom interrupts. “I’ll update you in the morning, but there’s nothing you can do, honey. I’ve got to call the station now. Good night. I love you.”

I think my “Love you too” is spoken to dead air. She’s already hung up to start dealing with Sean’s mess.

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