Chap. 30

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Adam Watson

Terrence was calling me for the third time.

I silenced my phone, shoving it into my back pocket as I stepped up to the counter.

Security at the airport had a series of unspoken rules. But one of the biggest ones was to never be the person that held up the line behind you.

I wordlessly handed the TSA worker my boarding pass and license. After a few moments of looking between me and my license, and then between my license and my boarding pass, she scribbled on it and handed it back to me.

Now I still had to wait in the endless security line.

I was hesitant to play on my phone, as I didn't want to accidentally answer one of Terrence's many calls or texts.

There was only one person I wanted to talk to. And I had to hop on a plane in order to do it.

I pulled on my wireless headphones, opting to listen to music as I weaved my way through the security line.

Another airport expectation, always have your laptop and electronics out of your bag before you get to the scanner. Don't be that person.

I could vaguely hear the TSA agent shouting the same line repeatedly as I made my way up to the conveyor belt.

Poor guy. No way in hell could I do his job, dealing with morons day in and day out.

I lose my temper just by dealing with Terrence.

My duffel bag slid through security with ease, as did I.

A pat down would've just been the icing on the fucking cake of my week.

I grabbed myself a coffee from Starbucks before taking a seat in one of the plastic, hardback chairs that the airport had to offer.

Twenty minutes until my flight starts boarding.

I pulled out my phone, swiping across the screen to answer Terrence's incoming phone call.

"Hi."

Terrence let out a loud, annoyed huff. "For fuck's sake, Adam."

"Why are you blowing my phone up?"

"Where the hell are you?" Terrence demanded. "You just disappeared off the face of the fucking Earth. I was worried about you."

I figured he would be. "I needed to do this."

"Do what?" he demanded. "You disappeared in the middle of the night, disabled your location, and dropped off the face of the Earth for hours. All to do what exactly?"

I owed Terrence a lot more. A lot more of an explanation. A lot more of a friendship. A lot more of everything.

I don't understand why he put up with such a shitty friendship.

But today I wasn't going to make that any better.

"I'll explain everything when I get back, okay? I just need some time to sort things out."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "The fuck are you talking about, Adam? What the fuck is going on?"

"I'm sorry. Just trust me."

And with that I hung up.

I knew I'd pissed him off. And I'd give him the explanation he deserved after I was finished.

Michael deserved my explanation first.

My brother had been on the forefront of my mind since walking out of that AA meeting. Listening to the hipster girl talk about losing contact with her family, about how unbothered she'd been about it until now, I realized I couldn't afford to do that too.

I'd been unbothered by my lack of contact with my brother for over a year. And after everything my family had been through, after everything I'd put them through, they didn't deserve the shit treatment.

For so long I'd been consumed by the idea that Lucas dying affected me the most. And some in ways it had. But my downward spiral had affected everyone else around me.

And that I didn't realize.

I didn't realize how much of a toll my drinking had taken on my brother. That he'd not only lost one brother that night, but two.

I stopped being a brother and started being a burden. And that's never something I'd intended.

Michael and I were never close. He wasn't my go-to person for anything, and I knew that I wasn't his either.

But we'd still been a functional family.

I'd taken the part of our life away. And so it was my job to bring it back.

I can never bring back Lucas. I can't change the outcome of that day, no matter how badly I wished that I could. No matter how badly I wished that Lucas had walked away from that accident instead of me, the reality is that he didn't.

I did. And now I owed it to everyone around me to start acting like I did too.

There was a long list of people that I owed explanations to. A long list of people that I owed apologies to.

And Michael was first up.

"Now boarding Flight 406 headed to Los Angeles, California."

The hardest part was tracking down my brother's address.

No real surprise, but I didn't have it saved anywhere. And the only person who did was my dad.

I'd told my dad that I wanted to send Michael a Christmas card, which was a boldfaced lie that he saw right through.

But my dad didn't ask me any further questions.

He probably will have fifty of them later when he checks his credit card statement to find a plane ticket on there.

Many college athletes had talked about the downfalls of playing in the league, and one of them is the fact that you never have any money.

Under contract, I'm not allowed to have a job. My time and focus is given to the team, and anything outside of that is supposed to be reserved for school.

So that meant that I was always broke. And it meant that there was no way in hell I'd be able to afford a plane ticket.

Sorry dad.

The cab driver pulled up in front of an apartment complex. It was just down the street from the campus, and I knew that Michael had a couple of roommates from his team.

They were going to be equally as confused as to why I was showing up to their apartment, unannounced.

Since it wasn't a student apartment, no student ID's were necessary in order for me to gain access inside.

Up to the third floor. Down to room 304.

I took in a deep breath, bringing up every ounce of courage that I had in my body.

But before I had a chance to knock, the door swung open.

"Yeah, I'll run the trash down!" The guy yelled over his shoulder. "Be right-"

He stopped short when he almost crashed into me.

"Pizza?" the guy asked. "That's room 306."

I have absolutely nothing on me that looks like it could be pizza.

"No, Michael actually."

He nodded, as though this was a common occurrence, before taking a step back into his apartment. "Michael, door!"

I took a step back, allowing him to pass with the trash. He didn't spare me a second glance.

I heard a door swing open inside.

"Who the fuck..." I heard my brother's voice say.

Footsteps neared the door, and I felt my heart start to race in my chest.

I hadn't actually planned this far ahead.

All of this had been a spontaneous, in-the-moment, decision, but I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do when I actually saw my brother.

How do I explain flying across the country on a Tuesday morning?

Michael appeared in the doorway.

Silence passed between the two of us.

I watched a range of emotions pass over Michael's face. First was surprise, then came confusion, and then came a mix of the both of them, followed finally by a sigh.

"Adam? What the fuck are you doing here?" Michael asked. "Get inside."

I followed him inside, Michael ushering me toward his room.

There were papers scattered across his bed, notes taped to the wall.

It looked like he was studying for something. And I'd, of course, interrupted him.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked, turning to face me. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?"

Surprisingly, none. Not yet anyways.

"I need to talk to you."

He shook his head, staring at me in complete and utter confusion. "You need to talk to me?"

"Yeah."

He let out another sigh. "Sit down. Have you eaten anything?"

Nothing except a Starbucks coffee earlier this morning.

"I'm going to order some breakfast." He pulled out his phone. "I can't deal with this situation until I've had coffee."

Silence stretched across the room as Michael worked on ordering food, and then went to work on cleaning off his bed and organizing his notes.

I took to leaning against the wall, watching as he scurried around.

"You're not in any sort of trouble?" Michael asked, turning from his desk to face me.

I shook my head.

"How did you get here?"

"An airplane."

He let out a groan. "It's not even 7:00 in the morning. I haven't had any caffeine. And my brother is standing in my bedroom. How the fuck is this my life?"

I hadn't factored the time change into my plans.

"I'm going downstairs to get the food," Michael said, as he picked up his phone off the bed. "Just... wait here."

I nodded in response, and then he was gone.

I took in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I felt like a national championship was riding on my shoulders, and I didn't know the play.

Deep breaths. Relax. This was my idea.

I didn't fly across the country to freeze up when the time finally came.

Michael came back, carrying iHop. "Moments like these call for pancakes."

I didn't understand the logic, but I wasn't complaining either.

We took to eating on the floor. The silence wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. It was just quiet.

I found myself glancing around Michael's room, looking at the personal decor on the walls.

"What color is your room?" I asked.

Michael glanced up toward his walls. "Gray."

That didn't mean anything to me, but I still liked knowing.

"By the way, you're wearing two different shades of gray."

I glanced down at my outift. "What?"

"Light gray sweats and like a charcoal gray shirt. It doesn't really go together."

"This isn't a black shirt?"

He shook his head. "Not quite."

Dammit. That's what happens when I don't have Terrence to double-check me.

Michael tipped back his coffee, finishing it off. "So clearly you didn't come here to check out my room."

I shook my head. "The color of your room doesn't mean much to me."

He rolled his eyes to that.

"I needed to talk to you."

"And it couldn't be done over the phone?"

I shook my head.

"And it couldn't wait for Christmas?"

Again, I shook my head.

"It needed to be done face-to-face," I said. "And it needed to be done now."

"Well, lay it on me then."

I hadn't thought about what I was going to say. But I knew what I needed to say.

And so the words just started spilling out.

"I've been going to AA," I started.

Already, Michael seemed surprised.

"And I've been trying to sit in the back and get in and out as quickly as possible. The usual shit. But this past meeting... It really fucking hit me. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. About everything."

Michael shook his head. "I'm not following."

"I know I'm a shit brother. I know I've been a shit brother for a long time. But this past year... This past year has been so fucking hard. And I didn't make things any easier."

I didn't expect to cry. Fuck, that's embarrassing.

"Adam-" Michael started, but I shook my head.

"Let me do this."

He leaned back, resting his palms behind him on the floor. "Okay."

"I was spiraling, hard. And I didn't realize how much I took everyone else down with me. But this girl at AA, she was talking about how she fractured her family. And I fucking did that. Our brother died. And I couldn't deal with it, I couldn't begin to process it. So I didn't. I used alcohol to drown out the memories, to drown out the guilt, to just drown out myself. And I thought that I was just pulling myself into this black hole, but I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong. And rehab made things worse, which isn't anyone else's thought but my own. And our family dynamic just went to absolute shit. All because of me. It all fucking started with me."

Michael reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Shut the fuck up."

My chest ached as tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt so broken, so vulnerable.

I wasn't used to feeling this way.

"Lucas's death was so fucking hard, hard on everyone," Michael said, quietly. "But you can't carry that guilt. You had to pick up Lucas because I was too busy fucking your best friend to make the drive. We all played a part in losing Lucas, and I'm sorry that you had to take the brunt of it. But it's not. your. fault. Adam. And you have to let that sink in."

I couldn't accept that.

"And I'm sorry that alcohol was the only way you thought you could deal with the pain and the grief. We all made mistakes then too. Dad turned a blind eye. I turned to fucking more people. And mom still doesn't know about any of it, which of course isn't her fault, but it doesn't help the situation either. We didn't help to support you, we enabled you instead."

"You didn't enable me," I said, quietly. "I knew exactly what I was doing."

"And we did too. That doesn't make it okay."

I wasn't used to feeling this much emotion all at once. I'd usually turn to a bottle, let the alcohol numb me.

But that wasn't an option, even if I wanted it to be. I was stuck in this situation, and I had to let the emotions overtake me.

Let myself fall.

Michael grabbed a box of tissues from his desk before retaking his seat on the floor, sliding the box toward me.

"I'm really happy to hear that you're doing AA again," Michael said, quietly. "I know how much you hated rehab. We should've never forced you to go before you were ready."

"I never would've been ready," I said, with a shake of my head. "I needed that realization. It just took me a little longer to accept the problem for myself."

I, Adam Watson, am an alcoholic. And that really fucking sucks.

Michael let out a small sigh. "So... now what?"

"I have no fucking clue."

I'M BACKKK!

My wrist has finally healed enough to where I can get back to writing. It feels like it took FOREVER this time around.

So what did you guys think of the chapter? Some of y'all guessed that Adam was heading out for some brother bonding. Is it what you expected? Anything take you by surprise?

I've literally been writing this chapter FOREVER. But it's been very emotionally draining for me. It's hard to get into Adam's mindset for this chapter, when he's so broken. I've been crying and trying to write and it's just been a hot mess.

Teaser: Sarah's POV. She and Adam reunite after both going through some traumatic situations. And they finally have to talk about everything that's happened, both in their personal lives and that KISS THING.

This book updates every Monday.

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