Recovery

Chapter 48

His laptop is open, but the screen is black. I fight the urge to go over and run my finger over the mousepad, wanting to find a window into his world.

What I said to him just a few days ago stops me from doing so

It's not your job to worry about me- not anymore.

No. I won't stick my head where it doesn't belong.

I crouch down by his bed and reach my hand down under it, feeling around for my sweatshirt.

"Grey?"

I jump up, my heart leaping out of my chest in shock.

"Avery," I breathe, standing quickly to my feet.

My eyes rake over him.

His hair is disheveled, his eyes sunken and red. He looks as if he's barely holding himself up.

"You look like hell," I whisper, taking a step nearer to him. As I get closer, the unmistakable smell of booze hits me. "Avery, are you drunk?"

"No," he laughs. He looks around, as if we're not alone, before leaning in and whispering, "I'm lying. I am so drunk!"

I flinch at the smell of his breath, pulling away.

"You're not even 21- who would serve you?"

"I have friends," he shrugs, a stupid grin on his face.

I shake my head, a small sigh escaping my lips.

"Go brush your teeth right now. I'll go get you a glass of water- you're probably dehydrated. Plus, I've found that drinking water helps with the hangover."

He tilts his head. "How would you know?"

"I've been drunk before, Avery," I chuckle. "And I have to say, I hold my liquor much better than you. Now, go brush your teeth."

He mumbles what sounds like an 'Okay' as I leave for the kitchen.

I quickly fill a tall glass with water, before taking it back to him.

When I get to his room, he is attempting to put on a pair of sweat pants on over his boxers. His jeans that he was wearing moments ago lay discarded on the floor.

I look at the floor, waiting for him to figure it out.

"I have your water," I say once he's completely dressed. "Sit down."

He does as I say, sitting on the edge of his bed.

I place the water firmly into his hands.

He raises it towards his lips, but misses, and ends up spilling a few drops down his cheek.

"Avery," I sigh, taking the cup from him. I press it to his lips, and slowly tilt the cup backwards. "Drink."

Slowly but surely, I get him to finish the entire glass.

"That should help with your hangover, but you should definitely get some sleep," I say. "We're going on a camping trip or something tomorrow."

He groans.

"I'm going back to my room," I say.

"Why were you in here in the first place?" he asks.

"I was looking for my purple sweatshirt," I answer.

He looks over me slowly. "It doesn't look like you found it."

"I think it's under your bed. I'll check."

I lean down under his bed once again, running my hand over the floor in search of my shirt.

My hand finds a frame instead- a picture frame he must have tossed under his bed. Recently, too, as there is no dust on it as you would expect.