Page 182 of There's No Us Without You
Jesus.
Since when did I become such a slob?
I shake my head. What was I doing again?
Pills... that’s right. I snatch my jeans from the pile and shove my hands into the pockets, coming up with nothing.
I swear I put them in here last night.
Where the fuck are they?
I lift my face to the ceiling and run my mind over what I remember. Gabby doubled the price, handed over the zip-lock bag, asked me to have another drink with her...
Goddamn it. I don’t remember much after that.
Maybe I put them in my bag instead.
After throwing on a semi-clean pair of shorts, I hobble down the stairs, taking most of my weight on my right leg. My bag is sitting at the front door, so I move towards it before I’m interrupted by Will clearing his throat.
I whip my head towards the couch he’s sitting on. I’m met with his ice-cold glare as he presses a beer bottle to his lips and takes a sip.
“Bit early to be drinking, don’t you think?” I raise an eyebrow and keep moving towards my bag.
“You do know what time it is, right?”
Nope, no freaking idea. Kind of like the way I have no idea what the hell I’m doing with my life.
Or where my drugs are.
Will crosses an ankle over a knee, and blinks at me expectantly, face neutral considering I thought I was going to be digging my own grave today just so Will can watch me squirm before he buries me alive.
I huff out a laugh and snatch my bag from the floor. “Yeah, of course I do,” I say, digging around inside it. All I find is a pair of clean socks, my shin guards, and the dirty T-shirt I used to clean the vomit off my face with last night.
Cringing, I shove the shirt back in the bag and drop it on the floor again. I scrub a hand through my hair, tugging at the strands. Where the fuck did I leave them?
“Looking for these?” Will holds out a hand, the little bag of pills sitting in the centre of his palm.
Our eyes meet—his narrowed on me—and I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Where... where did you find them?” I’m hovering near the front door, my hands now in my pockets so he can’t see how much they’re shaking.
Fuck.
He sniffs, and leans forward, dropping his leg and putting his elbows on his knees. “You don’t remember?”
Blowing out a breath, I slowly make my way to the couch, my head lowered. Even if I wanted to lift it, I couldn’t. The weight of all my fuck-ups is dragging me down.
“How long?” Will says, when I finally take the seat next to him.
I lift a shoulder and rest my head on the back of the couch, stretching out my left leg. “A few weeks.”
“Where did you get them?”
“I’m sure you already know the answer to that,” I say, scrubbing my hands over my face.
Will sighs. “Not the point. I want to hear it from your mouth.”
“Not Tyler, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. “He refused me when I asked.”
Will’s grip on the beer bottle tightens, his jaw clenching. “How long has Eden known?”
