I've been staring at the bathroom ceiling. It's kinda comfortable on the tiled floor.
I call Kev, while still lying on the floor and we talk for a bit. Danny is also there, apparently visiting Kev.
They end up sending me parts of their mails and I read through them. There's no explanation. Jared just joked about being a damn ghost and praised us for passing the finals in the emails.
There's also a private part to the mail that Kev and Danny both didn't send. But at least I got to read part of it.
"I still can't believe our art teacher was responsible for my broken teeth when I was a kid. How fucked up is that?" Danny exclaims.
"I mean, I also wouldn't expect a little kid to just smash his face on the concrete just because I reassembled the parkour." Kev points out.
"I needed to get my front teeth fixed!" Danny brings up again. "You know how much I hate going to the dentist!"
"He'd rather have his finger cut off than go to the dentist." Kev says to me.
"No hesitation." Danny confirms.
I don't know what exactly they're talking about, but apparently it's the teacher's fault he broke his front teeth.
I can hear my dad coming up the stairs, probably searching for me.
I say goodbye to Kev and Danny and then quickly stand up when I realize he will see the battleground I left behind in my room.
"Hey!" I urgently call out as I rush out of the bathroom right as my dad stops in front of my room.
He stares inside with an angry frown before turning his head to me. "What happened?"
"Well." I say unsure.
"You're injured. What happened here?" Dad asks me again. There are a few drops of dried blood on the floor, too. I just wasn't ready to clean up just yet.
"I- I'm fine. Really." I try to convince him.
"What the fuck did you do?" He asks, not exactly angry, more confused.
"I- I'm gonna replace all the broken stuff with my saved money, okay?" I tell him.
He walks into my room and leans down to pick up the computer screen.
"You're not answering my question. What happened? Did you do that?" He wants to know.
"I'm sorry." I say unsure.
He sets the screen down on my desk and turns to face me. "What happened?"
"I kinda lost my temper." I say timidly.
"Kinda?" My dad exclaims. "What made you do that?"
"I was frustrated." I say. "I don't wanna talk about it, though."
He squints his eyes and steps closer, grabbing my jaw to tilt my head up to force me to look at him.
"Are you high?" He asks me accusingly.
"God no." I answer. "Of course not." I say and push his hand away.
"You're gonna stay home and do a drug test in two hours. You hear me?" He says.
"Yeah." I answer and look down. "You can leave now. I'm gonna clean up."
He hesitates. "Samuel. What's up with you? Are you not feeling well? Can you just tell me what happened?"
"I was just angry." I say with a sigh.
"That's not just angry. Since when do you go ahead and become violent like this?" He asks.
"Can we just drop this?" I ask annoyed.
He never wanted to hear anything about it. He never cared about how Jared's death impacted my life. I never talked to him how it affected me because he didn't let me. I'm not gonna start now.
"No, we can't. I'm concerned for your health. Always. Destroying things in your room is something to be concerned about." Dad says.
At least it's me destroying stuff and not my dad going through everything, searching for drugs and breaking stuff in the process.
I grab the door handle and wave my dad out of the room while I glare angrily at him.
"Samuel. Anger issues like that are not normal." He says.
I let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't have anger issues." I try to explain to him. "I just lost my temper for like two minutes. But I've calmed down."
"I still want an explanation." My dad dares to say. "I wanna support you."
Something in me snaps. Again. All this frustration that Alan helped me get rid of is back again. And all this anger is back as well. How dare he claim he wants to support me? I get he was supportive in many aspects of my life, but not this. He knows he treated me wrong after Jared's death, but he has no idea what that did to me.
"Just fuck off!" I yell angrily. "Seriously. Who do you think you are to pretend you care? If you wanna punish me for breaking stuff, do it. I don't give a fuck. But don't pretend to be my friend."
I don't know why, but he looks taken aback. Like that came out of nowhere.
"Look, please just leave me alone." I say, trying to keep my voice down again.
"What's gotten into you today?" Dad asks me, sounding angry. "You can't speak to me like that. Are you out of your mind?"
"Yes, I can!" I shout. "I can do what I want, when I want and where I want."
"Not in my house." Dad says.
He's right.
"Okay, I'm moving out." I answer. "It's not like I'm home a lot anyways and anytime I am you're up in my business. I can do without that."
"I'm trying to help." He says.
I shake my head. "You're not helping. Anytime I step out of line you instantly accuse me of doing drugs."
"But you do understand why I'm concerned. I'm not accusing you without reason." He says.
"But I'm not doing drugs!" I say frustratedly. "Can you just leave me the fuck alone?"
"What's gotten into you today? Ever since we moved here you're unrecognizable." He says. "I thought you'd be your old self again, but apparently not."
"Are you blaming me for changing when it was your decision to isolate me from my friends and drag me into this stupid city?" I ask him. "It's your fault. I wish I had stayed back, moved in with Kev or with my aunt or something. Then I would be fine now. Then I would have stayed at my old school. I would have never done any drugs. I would have never met Noah. And I would have access to this stupid email that Jared sent me and I will never get to read."
"What email?" Dad asks me confused.
"Forget it." I say and turn around to walk to my bed, where I just lay down face first.
"That's why you were so upset?" He asks. "What do you mean? An old email?"
I turn around to face him.
"He sent an email to Kev and Daniel today." I explain. "Probably to me, too, but I will never know because he sent it to my school's email account."
My dad frowns. "How- how would he send that?"
I roll my eyes. "He obviously wrote the text a year ago and it got sent automatically at a set time."
He nods his head. "That's possible?"
I roll on my back and slide my hands down my face. Sometimes I wonder how some smart people can be so dumb at the same time. Older people just have no clue how advanced technology is.
"You gotta show me how that works. I could use that at work." He says and then sits down on my bed next to me.
"Mhm." I hum annoyed.
"So, you can't log into your old school account anymore?" He asks.
"No." I mumble.
"How about we ask at your school if they can do something about it?" He suggests.
"No use." I say with a sigh.
"What do you think he wrote in the email?" Dad asks me.
I shrug. "How should I know?"
"I understand that you're frustrated." He says. "But is it really important what he wrote to you?"
What a stupid question. How can it not be important?
"Of course you wouldn't care. Because in your eyes he was nothing but a junkie, a bad influence, someone I should be happy to not call my friend anymore." I tell him angrily.
Now he also looks angry again. "But it happened like I said, didn't it? It didn't just stay at weed."
"Smoking weed never had anything to do with other drugs." I say annoyed.
"Then where did you get your first pill if it wasn't Nora, the same person who sold you the weed?" He asks.
I glare at him and stay silent.
"I liked Jared. Of course it was horrible that he died so tragically." He says. "But he was a bad influence and you know that."
"If your goal was to make me feel horrible, congrats, you succeeded. You can leave now." I suggest.
"Samuel, you know I'm not trying to make you feel bad." He says.
"Well, you are very bad at that. Not making me feel bad." I point out.
He looks at me with a somewhat apologizic, but also frustrated expression. "I'm trying, Samuel."
"You know what? It still feels awkward and out of place when you now care and try to talk about emotional things when in the past you always got mad at me whenever I showed any kind of negative emotion." I tell him. "I couldn't even properly mourn Jared's death because you wouldn't let me. That was the absolute worst thing that ever happened in my life and you decided to focus on the tiny bit of weed."
"It wasn't just a tiny bit of weed. It was an addiction. It was the beginning of something that sent you down a spiral." He explains.
"You know what? I often did drugs out of spite. Simply because I knew you wouldn't find out anyways." I tell him. "You're still trying to blame Jared. You couldn't be more wrong."
"Who should I blame then?" He asks. "Up until you were sixteen you behaved and then after you started hanging out with Jared and Kevin, you started behaving out of place."
"I don't know what you mean by out of place. I was myself around them. The one thing I could never be at home because all I needed to be was the perfect son that would become someone great one day."
"I never forced you to do anything. You had choices." He tells me. "You know that."
"You didn't make it feel like it was much of a choice. It was either becoming a doctor or being a disappointment."
"You made that choice. I never forced you. When you changed your mind I accepted it. Didn't I?" He asks.
I shrug my shoulders. He's right. He didn't make a fuss about it the way I expected him to. But for years I felt like I had to do that, to hang on to a dream that wasn't my own anymore.
"Why are you so angry at me?" Dad asks me.
"Because you were never there for me. You were emotionally unavailable since I was like twelve." I state.
"You stopped coming to me for advice. You prefered talking to your mother about things." He claims.
"Because she didn't judge me. It always felt like I was never good enough." I say. "And now it feels like you're acting, pretending to be understanding just because you don't want me to kill myself or something."
He sighs and lays his hand on my shoulder. "Son, I love you. With all my heart. I made mistakes. Lots of them. Parenting isn't easy. But I always had good intentions. All I wanted for you was to be happy and fulfilled in your life."
I shake my head. "That's not true."
He hated the fact that I was gay. He learned to accept me. But I know he hated it. He hated the idea of people thinking I could be gay even before I came out to him.
"I don't know how to convince you of it." Dad says. "But as long as you're happy, I accept what you do."
"Drugs made me happy." I point out.
He shakes his head. "If you still believe that your rehab is still not over. Samuel, those drugs didn't make you happy. They gave you short time relief, nothing else."
I can't argue with that, as much as I wanna win this argument. But I have a different one.
"My friends back home made me happy." I say next.
"I know that. But-"
"They never influenced my drug abuse and you know that." I say. "You gotta differentiate between weed and other drugs, because the weed I had under control."
"Did you really?" He questioned.
"Yes, I did." I answer firmly.
"We wanted to keep you safe. Cutting you off from this friend group was our way of dealing with it." Dad tells me. "I know it wasn't fair to you. I know I reacted wrong, but I was overwhelmed with fear of what could happen to you. I was so grateful that it wasn't you who died. I wanted to make sure you wouldn't. Can you understand that?"
"I can. But it was wrong. The way you handled it. You were angry at me. All the time." I say. "You were angry when I showed I was hurt. Do you know how hard it was for me? I cried myself to sleep every damn night. I couldn't get any sleep because of those horrible nightmares. And you didn't support me one bit."
"I'm sorry you feel that way." He says.
I shake my head angrily. "You're sorry I feel that way? You're not sorry for what you did?"
He takes a deep breath like he wants to stay calm, but I can tell he's also upset. But it needs to be addressed at some point.
"Look, I appreciate everything you did for me." I say.
"You really don't." Dad says.
"I do, but I also can't forget how you left me on my own when Jared died. You have no idea how important he was to me. It was fine that I couldn't get any support from you, but you also cut me off from any other support I could get." I say.
"Should I have looked away? Pretended that what happened to Jared wouldn't eventually happen to you if you kept hanging out with-"
"For fuck's sake, Kev and Danny never did drugs. We had no idea how bad it was. Jared kept that secret from us as well. We knew he was doing drugs, but we didn't know what he was on, we didn't know the extent of it. His death came out of the blue and the fact that he did it on purpose is the worst thing about it. So the only thing that could have influenced me was his mental health, not his addiction."
"He was feeling bad because he was doing drugs. The same way it was for you." He says. "I was scared you'd also fall down a hole you can't find out again."
"I was not feeling bad because I was high. I got high because I was feeling bad. That's a difference." I state.
Dad nods his head. "Yes, I'm sorry. Okay? I don't know what you wanna hear from me. Clearly, I did wrong. I was a bad father. I always wanted the best for you, but I always did the wrong thing. Is that what you want to hear? Can we move on from the past?"
"We talked for like ten minutes and think I can move on?" I ask him bewildered. "We never talked about Jared."
"I apologized before." Dad reminds me.
"But it wasn't enough." I say.
"What do you want me to do then?" He asks me.
"Nothing. Leave me alone." I say.
He stands up with a sigh and then picks up my computer mouse and lays it on my desk. He then goes on to pick up the picture on the ground, looking at it for a few seconds.
"I'm gonna move into Austin's apartment." I state.
"Yes, you already mentioned that." He says quietly as he lays the picture down on my table as well.
He sounds sad. Like my words hurt him. I'm also hurt.
But this wasn't unfair of me, right? It was just the truth. I think it's important to talk it all out before we can move on. My relationship with my dad has become really good in the past months, but it didn't delete how it used to be. Am I an asshole for wanting him to truly apologize? To realize the extent of the damage it did to me?
"Maybe you wanna talk with your therapist about this. I think it would be important." He says and then leaves my room, closing the door on his way out.
I sigh loudly. I already did! Okay, I lost my temper. Not okay. I get that. But now he uses my lack of control to make my arguments seem less valid than his.
Or not? I don't know. I know that bringing up stuff that happened months ago is not exactly fair when my dad is now so understanding and supportive. But I can't change the fact that I'm still hurt by the past because it shaped who I am now. It felt good to tell him, but I believe he still doesn't understand me.
______
"I'm out with Adam. We're watching a film at the cinema. You wanna join us?" Harry suggests when I ask him what he's doing tonight.
"Nah, have fun on your date." I say. We talk for two minutes and then end the call.
I wanna talk to someone. Carla and Caleb are gone, god knows where, and have no phone signal, or they have their phones turned off. Kev told me they have some end of school dinner, so I can't talk to them either.
I sigh and call Nora next.
"Are you home?" I ask her.
"We're doing leash training with the cats." She answers.
"Leash training?" I ask surprised.
"Yeah, Potatoe really wants to go outside and Cupcake already has experience walking on a leash." She explains. "We'll be back in an hour, so if you wanna come over, just ring the bell."
"Get off the tree!" I can hear Nina's voice shout in the background.
"Yeah, thanks. Good luck with the cats." I say and then hang up.
I groan annoyed. No one to talk to.
I roll over and scroll through instagram and reddit until it's around 8. But I just keep replaying conversations with Jared in my head. I keep turning his words upside down, trying to find clues of what he might have written in my email.
"Dylan, my boy, how are you doing?" I ask as he picks up.
"Uhm, good?" He says unsure.
"Whatcha doing?" I wanna know.
"I wanted to go to sleep soon. Watching a movie to doze off to." He tells me. "You?"
"Nothing. I'm super bored." I tell him.
"Wanna come over? See my apartment?" He asks.
"Yes!" I say, already standing, grabbing my thin jacket.
"I'll send you the address. You got a car? Else I can also send you the nearest station." Dylan suggests.
I end up going there by train and bus. It takes forty minutes, but it is a quite comfortable route to get there.
"Yo." Dylan says as he lets me into his flat. He looks and sounds tired.
"Hey, wanna show me around?" I ask him.
It's a small apartment. Very small. Not much to show me around. One room that's his kitchen, living and bedroom all at once and a bathroom with a toilet. That's it.
We settle down on his couch, which doubles as his bed.
"How are you? How is it having your own apartment again?" I wanna know.
He shrugs. "I guess I like it. Sometimes I feel lonely. I can't really sleep here. I don't know why. I hardly sleep."
"Not to be mean, but could it also be drugs or lack of them making you unable to sleep?" I suggest.
He shrugs. "I took four sleeping pills before you called me, so I hope they will help. But so far I just feel confused and chill, not exactly sleepy."
"Uhm, is that safe?" I ask unsure.
I cracks up. "Dude, yeah, that's like 200 milligrams. Back in the day when I couldn't get my hands on stuff, I did like four times as much DPH. And let me tell you, you can feel it when the spiders bite you."
I shake my head, not sure what exactly he's talking about. "Spiders?" I ask confused.
"Yeah, huge hallucinated daddy long legs. Everywhere." He says amused. "Speaking of daddies with long legs. How's Adam? Still in love with Harry?"
Seriously?
"Yup. They're very in love." I tell him. "But is that legal? DPH?"
"Yup." He answers. "I'm going clean. That shit is sold over the counter." He says with a shrug. "God. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Worst trip ever. Made me really delulu, but it's one of the things that won't show up on a drug test. I always made sure to sleep long enough after because that shit gave me hangovers every time. And you know I don't really get hangovers, except for alcohol."
"Huh." I say. "Can I try?" I ask.
He shrugs. "I don't know. Do you have trouble sleeping?"
"Sometimes." I say. "I hardly sleep more than six hours. But I guess that's just my normal amount." I smile. "And I get that amount now most nights. Probably not tonight, though."
"Lucky you. I need nine hours to be refreshed." He says. "That being said, I can be a bit pissed off when I get too little sleep while being sober."
"Can I have two or three?" I ask.
"Sure." He says and gets up to bring me a blister.
He holds it out of my reach. "Just because it's legal, doesn't mean it's not a drug and not dangerous to overdose on."
"Yeah. But it's not a relapse." I state.
"If you say so." He answers and hands me the pills.
I pop three pills out and hold them in my hand and look at them. It's legal. It doesn't count as a relapse, right?
And I won't get bitten by huge terrifying spiders hopefully.
This is just to help me sleep better. Because Jared's email would surely give me nightmares.
I swallow them down with a sip from the water Dylan hands me.
I grab the blister again and inspect it. I read the little labels on the back. 'Diphenhydramine hydrochlorid'
I swallow hard. I've heard the first part of the name before. That was when my dad explained to me what Austin overdosed on last december.
If I remember correctly.
"Is that also in allergy medication?" I ask surprised.
"Yup. First gen allergy meds. I used to buy Benadryl, but it was usually only 15 mg in each pill, so I prefer the sleeping pills." He explains to me.
"Great." I say. "I wanna get high from the stuff that almost killed my boyfriend."
"Three pills won't exactly get you high." Dylan says. "Just confused and tired. But a nice kind of confused and tired."
Yeah, I do remember Austin's confusion when he left me that voice message.
"Sorry, are you okay?" Dylan asks concerned.
I nod my head. "I just feel a little- I don't know, guilty?"
"Don't be. Why would you feel guilty?" He asks confused.
I shrug. "I don't know. Three pills are not dangerous, right?" I ask, feeling anxious.
"No, Sammy. Calm down. It's just sleep medication. Nothing else." He assures me.
I nod my head and lean back on the couch.
"How are you doing? Is school already over? Did you pass your exams?" He asks.
"Yeah, I graduated last week." I tell him.
"Congrats, dude. Already accomplished more than I ever did." He says and holds out his fist.
"Did you ever lose friends to drugs?" I ask him.
He frowns and drops his hand down. "Yeah. Overdoses happen when you hang out with people that do opiates and meth."
"Accidental ones?" I ask.
"Well, most likely." He answers.
I nod my head. "Do you often think about them? Regret not being able to help?"
He shrugs. "Well, I was in no position to help back then. I was in the same boat, you know? I also overdosed and almost died. It can happen so quickly. People that claim to have it under control can lose it quickly. A friend overdosed, got narcan, then accidentally overdosed again like ten hours later because obviously the opiates didn't work while the naloxone was still in his system and he was going through withdrawal and did more and more and well, died. That didn't stop me from using, but it did prevent me from making the same mistake. Like him I thought I had it under control. A part of me still believes that I had it under control and it was all not so bad."
I nod my head. "So, when you overdosed, was it out of nowhere?" I ask.
He snorts. "Nah. Actually not. I remember often being so high that I kinda forgot to breathe. Like, I stopped breathing to the point my lips started turning blue and had to manually breathe. But I also didn't wanna take narcan because I was not gonna go through withdrawal. So yeah, I couldn't breathe properly at times. It didn't even hurt or anything. I had to make sure not to fall asleep because I sure as hell would have run into a problem. But calling an ambulance for help was out of question obviously. Called a friend who told me to breathe every couple of seconds." He tells me amused.
"That's more than a wake up call." I point out. "And then at some point it was just too much?" I ask
"When I actually overdosed it happened quickly. I felt great and then the ground just came racing up to smack me in my face. Then I woke up and couldn't focus my eyes for like half an hour and the nurse sounded like god talking to me." Dylan explains. "I don't ever wanna get so bad again. I wouldn't make it out a second time."
"So when you relapsed around new years, it wasn't so bad?" I ask.
"I was just doing meth." He explains. "Dope never got me hooked the way downers did."
'Just meth' is a funny way to describe a hard drug that lots of people are addicted to.
"I'm glad you're doing better." I say. "I guess it works for you to not see it as black and white and occasionally do drugs. Sorry that I stole Nora's mdma and stuff. I thought I needed to intervene."
He chuckles. "It's alright. Sorry that we both disappointed you."
"It's okay." I say unsure.
"I wish I was the person that I played back when we met." Dylan says.
"What do you mean?" I ask confused.
"I was acting like the sober life was the only way. I acted like I enjoyed it. It was a lie." He says. "I was lying to myself."
"Well, but you were clean for half a year. Or was that a lie?" I ask surprised.
"I was. But I was miserable." He says and then chuckles. "Oh well, I guess that's a constant in my life, no matter my drug use."
"But there are things that make you happy, right? Apart from being high." I say.
"Of course." He says. "Dating is fun."
I chuckle and lean back, getting comfortable on the very uncomfortable couch. How can he even sleep on that thing?
"So, how many people are you dating right now?" I ask him.
"Only three." He says. "Well, not sure if all of them would be considered dating. It's very platonic with two of the people I regularly see."
"Only." I say with a playful scoff. "And are they all okay with you dating other people as well?"
"Yeah, I don't date monogamous people anymore." He states.
I nod. "Yeah, I guess that's very reasonable." I say unsure. "So, I'm curious, how many people have you dated in your life?"
He shrugs.
"I don't really keep a list. I do have a list of how many different nationalities I've kissed." He says with a sly smile.
I gasp. "How many?"
"Thirteen." He says.
"You kissed people from thirteen different countries?" I ask shocked.
"As far as I know. Asking where they were born is usually not the first thing I do on a date." He explains.
"Wow, you really are a fuckboy. Where do you meet all these people?" I wanna know.
"Mostly dating apps, clubs, friends." He tells me. "What about you?"
"What?" I ask.
"Hm, do you have a list of people you have dated or kissed or fucked, whatever?" He asks.
I shake my head. "Making a list is kinda degrading, isn't it?"
"I like lists." He reasons.
"Okay, well, I've only ever dated three people, and only with Austin it was a serious relationship." I tell Dylan.
He smiles. "That's cute. And kisses?"
I start counting quietly, using my fingers to keep track. "Jared, Austin, Adam, Harry." I say. "Like, just kisses, right? Just a peck on the lips counts?"
"Yeah, whatever you count as a kiss." Dylan says.
I scrunch up my face. "Noah." I say next and then gasp. "Right, the girls. Ella, some girl at a club." I think about it. "Right, Carla."
I thought I kissed like four people, but apparently it was more than that.
He nods. "Eight people. I had no idea you kissed literally everyone in your friend group."
I frown. "That is kinda weird. But like, Carla, I kissed her shortly after we met and she was freaked out about it. And Harry kissed me once to convince me that friends can kiss."
He raises his eyebrows amused. "Friends can kiss? Why would he try to convince you of that?"
"So, I did tell you about Jared and how he kissed me before he died, right?" I ask.
"Cannot remember." Dylan says. "Sorry."
"Well, he did. And I only remembered a few weeks ago. After my attempt." I explain. "And I was freaking out because it made me realize I was actually kinda in love with him, but didn't realize it back then."
"Woah. Interesting And tragic." Dylan comments.
I nod my head. "Yup, and now he sent me an email. Well, he sent two friends emails and most likely prepared one for me as well, but I don't have access to my old school's email account anymore and won't ever find out what he had to say. And I was angry and ruined a bunch of stuff in my room."
He raises his eyebrows and presses his lips together while he nods.
"So yeah, I guess I just needed someone to talk." I say. "To get my mind off things."
"Perfect." He says excitedly. "I'm the right person for that. I'm a master at distracting myself and others from the important stuff."
The next thirty minutes he tells me all about his love drama. Some guy and him apparently were super in love until he met some girl and ghosted Dylan out of nowhere.
Now he's super in love with this guy who he's been on a couple of dates with. But turns out said guy does drugs and now Dylan isn't sure whether to end it.
He's also dating a woman. They always do yoga together and then go out, but she has no interest in dating people in a romantic way, so Dylan is sad about that.
"I'm gonna go pee." I state and stand up.
I frown upon standing upright. I feel a little high. Everything is a little wonky and the floor feels soft.
I make my way to the toilet and afterwards collapse on the couch next to Dylan who got comfortable while I was gone, sprawled out across the sofa.
"Make room." I complain and push his legs aside to get more room.
While we continue lying around I notice my concentration getting worse and my words coming out more slurred. That's what three very legal sleeping pills can do?
I definitely won't ever do that again. But it is an interesting experience. It reminds me of how it was to just calm down when I tried out morphine. Or how the xanax made me feel sleepy within twenty minutes. I think the Ketamine I once got was also similar.
I contemplate taking one or two more pills, but I guess that would actually come close to relapsing. This? This is fine. But more than that would be a problem.
"I should get home before I fall asleep." I announce and after saying goodbye, make my way to the nearest bus station to get to Austin and Nora's home.
By the time I'm there it's midnight, so I just get ready for bed and decide to go to sleep while I wait for Austin.
_____
"Hey, are you alright?" Austin's voice wakes me.
"Huh?" I ask confused.
He smiles softly and gives me a kiss. "You were sleeping really deep."
I nod my head. "I was sleepy."
"Okay, then go back to sleep." He whispers.
I hold out my arms and wait for him to get into bed to wrap my arms around him.
"Mh, so warm." He hums. "Can't wait for the weather to get warmer again tomorrow."
I nod my head.
"I thought you'd stay home." He says. "I'm going climbing with Matt in the morning."
I sigh. "I forgot about that."
"Sorry." He whispers. "Wanna come along?"
I shrug.
"I'll ask Matt if that's a problem." He decides.
I nod my head.
"Yeah, but I don't want to scratch up my whole body again." I tell him.
Austin turns on the light on his bedside table and then looks at me with a frown.
"Hm?" I ask confused.
"Why are you so weird?" He asks
"Weird?"
"You're slurring your words, but not just in a sleepy kinda way. Are you high?" He asks shocked.
"I- well, I may have taken a sleeping pill." I explain.
He softens his expression. "That makes you sound so confused?"
"Yeah, it kicked in pretty hard." I say and chuckle.
"I thought your sleep is getting better?" He asks.
"I just didn't wanna dream tonight." I say.
"What's wrong?" He asks me concerned.
I sigh loudly and then tell Austin all about the email, about almost getting answers, about feeling frustrated, destroying stuff, meeting up with Dylan.
"And you're sure that was actually what he said it was? Just sleep medication?" Austin asks sceptically when I reveal to him where I got the medication.
"Yeah, he had the packaging." I assure him.
"And you took it out of the packaging?" He questions.
"Yeah. What would Dylan gain from giving me other drugs?" I ask.
"I'm not saying he did it on purpose, just that there may be lots of other drugs lying around."
"Well, no other drugs. But to be honest I took three and it feels really good to be so confused and feel heavy." I confess.
He nods his head and grabs my hands. "That's okay, please just don't let this get out of hand again, okay?"
"I won't. I guess in my head I saw what happened today as a good enough excuse." I explain.
"An excuse for who?"
I shrug. "For myself. Something bad happened like it always does. Good enough reason for me to make a mistake."
He strokes my hair softly. "You're gonna have a good sleep and hopefully it stays like that so you don't have to resort to pills again."
"Yeah." I say quietly and close my eyes.
"In this flat, you sit when you pee!" Nora shouts, kicking open the door.
Austin and I look at her confused.
"Who peed on the floor?" She asks.
"I sit down to pee." Austin says.
"You do?" I ask surprised and suddenly feel Nora's glaring eyes on me.
"You!" She yells.
"I- I wasn't even on the toilet here." I explain.
"Someone was and did not aim right and I'm not your fucking maid!" She says. "Go clean it up, Austin!"
"Nah, I'm not gonna wipe away someone else's pee. Asked your girlfriend already?"
"Excuse me?" Nora exclaims. "It was one of you!"
Austin groans and stands up to go inspect the toilet. I stay in bed, feeling too tired to stand up.
"That's cat pee!" I can hear Austin's voice.
"Aw, no way!" Nora says. "Good boy!"
"No, bad boy!" Austin answers. "If you wanna teach him to use the toilet you gotta show him where exactly."
"He probably just peed there because it already smelled like urine because one of you guys can't aim." She reasons.
"You're unbelievable." Austin says with a heavy sigh.
I snort as I listen to their interaction some more until Austin strolls back in.
"Can you believe that?" He asks and locks the door.
"You're horrible as flatmates." I say.
"Uh huh. So, Nora always complains about me leaving stuff lying on the coffee table. But when she eats something, she never puts the food into tupperware containers before she stores it in the fridge. She just puts in the plates or even pans and everything smells of her food. I bought all these nice plastic containers."
"Mhm." I humm quietly and bury my face in his chest.
"And don't get me started on the amount of toilet paper she uses. I know, I know, I'm no saint either when it comes to that, but I swear-"
I fall asleep quickly as I listen to Austin ramble on about horrible sharing an apartment with her is.
Okay, yeah, I admit it. It was a big mistake to take pills even when I could get them at a pharmacy. I'm glad Austin isn't angry and that I could be honest. I should be honest about stuff like that so that I don't have to do this alone.
I didn't need it. I didn't need to take those pills. But the opportunity was there and it was such an inviting opportunity.
It's fine. Progress isn't linear. I will always make mistakes. Bad habits don't die easily. Even a calm sea has its slight waves. It's alright to make mistakes, I shouldn't dwell on it and see it as an opportunity to learn.
_____
Again one chapter closer to the end of this story. I guess around three more chapters to go. And don't worry, Sammy won't be relapsing more than that. Most likely. He's just very dumb.