Page 104 of Revive Me

34

ROMAN

I wake up with a raging hangover.

I shouldn’t be surprised, considering the amount of booze I’ve consumed in the past week, but it’s been so long since I’ve drank enough to pass out that I’m caught off guard by the way my head is pounding.

Dragging myself out of bed, I set to showering and cleaning myself up. But even washing the smell of whiskey and regret off my skin does nothing to fix my miserable mood. I throw myself onto the couch with a frustrated shout into the void.

Suddenly, electronic beeps fill the air. When they’re followed by the sound of a lock disengaging, I turn my head to see who’s walking unprompted into my house.

It’s Mikey. Of course, it’s Mikey.

He struts in like he owns the place, merely glancing at me before he plops himself down on the other end of the couch.

I wonder if he’s going to comment on my current hungover state, especially because it’s been weeks since he’s seen me drink more than the occasional beer. But the only reaction he gives the whiskey bottle and empty beer cans is a raised eyebrow. Then he looks at me and asks simply, “So, what are we playing today?”

Clearing my throat, I sit up into a more comfortable position. “Uh, I don’t know. Call of Duty sound good?”

He nods and reaches for the controllers, throwing one of them over to me as he asks, “Don’t you have PT today?”

My throat tightens at the memory of Lily, and the knowledge that I gave up on the clinic entirely. I haven’t been back in probably two weeks now; not that I’m keeping track. My voice is hoarse when I say, “Nah, I’m done with that shit.”

Mikey’s brow furrows, though he’s still not looking at me. “Why?”

My shrug is stiff. “Bunch of reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Jesus, what’s with the interrogation?” I explode, uncomfortable and at my wit’s end. “You’ve never given a shit about my rehab.”

Finally, Mikey turns to me with a frown. “That’s not true. I just never pressured you about it. You got enough of that from everyone else.”

I look away from him, shame heating my face. He’s right; he’s never been one to nag me. It’s one of my favorite things about him. Who am I to blow up on him the first time he shows concern?

“Although that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought you’re a moron about some things,” he says casually.

Now I’m the one frowning. Turning to face him, I ask, “What do you mean? What things?”

He shrugs, as if this isn’t the most serious conversation we’ve ever had. “Your PT, for one. I won’t say I know anything about what it’s like to be paralyzed, or to go from one of the greatest athletes in the worldtoparalyzed, but even I can see that you’re being a pussy about your rehab.”

I almost laugh at that, his resemblance to Lily uncanny with that statement.

“You could’ve been walking a year ago, and you know it.”

Thatmakes my amusement disappear.

I look down at my lap, fidgeting with the controller as I grumble, “Anything else you’d like to unburden yourself with?”

“Yeah. What are youdoing?”

My head rears back, confused. “What do you mean?”

He throws his arms out, clearly athiswit’s end. “I mean, whatisthis? What’s your plan here? Every time I come over, you’re sitting on the couch, watching TV or playing a video game.” I wonder if he can feel the way his words burn me, because after his focus shifts to me, and he watches me for a moment, his voice is gentler when he continues. “Don’t get me wrong, there’s something to be said about being able to rely on you as an escape from my everyday bullshit. Butyoushould also have everyday bullshit, man. This can’t be all there is for you.” He hesitates, shooting me a curious look. “You seemed to be doing better for a while but… I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on with you.”

I can sense him waiting for me to give him an answer, to react in some way to what he’s saying. But when I don’t, he sighs. “You know, sometimes when I’m typing in the code on your keypad, I catch myself wishing you’re not home. That you found a job, or a hobby, or something that lights you up the way fighting used to.”

I swallow roughly and finally speak. “I don’t think that exists, man. Fighting was everything to me.”

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