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"Max, can you go and change his bed as I talk to them please?" I say, wanting to be alone and also lowkey thinking he needs to be put to work. He looked so guilty and I didn't have the energy to comfort him.
"Yeah, I don't know where-"
"Spare sheets are in the left draw under his bed. Or well they used to be- I don't know why it would have changed."
"Ok, I'll go up."
Max leaves and I let out a deep breathe.
If Jackson had been drinking every day, if his dependency was really bad, cold turkey was such a stupid ass idea.
His blood pressure could have sky rocketed, he could have developed a fever, he could have had a seizure, he could have fucking died. This was rare, I knew this, but he tried to do this on his own, and he said he couldn't stop drinking, as if it was a compulsion.
Which usually meant it was every day, and if it was ever day, detoxing would be so much more dangerous.
God. When people drank, it increased the effects of the GABA, a neutrotrasmitter responsible for creating feelings of calm and euphoria. It also decreases glutamate, another neurotransmitter that creates excitability.
Heavy drinking makes it harder and harder to increase GABA and decrease glutamate, so more and more alcohol is required for the same outcome. Your body becomes accustomed to these changes and responds by producing more glutamate and less GABA.
When you suddenly stop drinking, you are no longer impacting these two neurotransmitters, but your body is still over producing glutamate and underproducing GABA. So Jackson's going to be extra anxious, restless, and shaky. If he was a heavy drinker, his symptoms may be much more severe, progressing to tremors, seizures, and serious high blood pressure.
They need to come back, admit him.
Placing the ringing phone to my ear, I can't help but fall to the floor and lean myself against the kitchen counter.
This was all so fucked.
Why had he drank again? When was it? I refuse to accept it was because of me, he was stronger than that, he-
Fuck if it was me, I shouldn't be here.
"Hello?" An old voice came through the phone and I start speaking forgetting about any anxiety I had about phone calls to strangers.
"Hi, is Charlotte Granger there?" I ask, who most likely is her mother.
"Oh. Yes. I'll go grab her dear. May I ask who is calling?"
"Ivy James."
There's a little bit of silence and I can't imagine how she's going to feel when I tell her.
You know how you said 'who knows' when I asked if he was ok. Well I know. I know that he's not.
"Ivy? Are you ok?"
"Charlotte." I breathe.
"Ivy? What's wrong."
"You need to come home. I don't know If you can do that, but you need to come home as soon as you can."
"What's happened? Ivy, you're freaking me out." She says, her mothering tone towards me falls and becomes worried, anxious. Her signals telling her that something badly wrong.
"Jackson's been drinking, I only found out for sure Saturday I promise. But now he's trying to detox and I don't know what to do Charlotte. He can't do this on his own right?"
"He- he's been drinking?" She says and I wonder how they all couldn't see it. Was it different this time? Is it just because he hid it so well?
"Charlotte." I stress. "Please come home."
"Ivy, of course, shit." She says and I have never heard her swear before.
"I'll call the facility now, once we are home we'll get him the proper help."
"He's already on day 2, If he doesn't go in now I'm scared what will happen."
"I'll call them, see what they can do." She says and I sigh an okay. "Ivy please don't leave my son alone, I don't know what you know, but detox is dark and he already has a lot of darkness."
"I'd never." I swear. "I just, please please please come back, he needs you."
"I'll phone the rehab people and I'll look for flights now." She explains. "I need you to find out how much he was drinking." She says and I just think, I doubt he will tell me.
"I'll try. I'll phone you when I know, please phone me when you hear back from the facility?"
"Ivy, it's ok. I promise." She say and I hear the hint of a voice of Jackson's dad asking what was going on and I hang up the phone.
I grab myself a glass of water and shakily drink it, just needing a second. Jackson would be fine. It is going to be ok.
After a few seconds I was heading back upstairs and I opened the door to Max struggling heavily to change Jackson's double duvet cover.
"Is he still in the bathroom?" I ask and Max curses at me in shock, he was really involved in trying to change the bed.
"Yeah." He says and before I go and find him I walk over to Max and take over changing the duvet so he can finish the rest.
"Ivy, what did his mum say?" He whispers and I just shrug.
"She's going to come home. Get him into rehab. But I just, how long is it going to take them to get home? He's bad now, today, by the time they get home he could be over it, he might be fine." I say and feel a lump form at the base of my throat. "But Max it could get so much worse than this and they're still now going to be a few days probably."
"Ivy it's ok, we are here now."
"Will you stay?" I ask him and he looks at me in disbelief.
"Ivy I know I've, we have all been such shitty friends to him. But it's only because we didn't know, we'd never abandon him."
"Ok." I whisper and head towards the bathroom. When I found Jackson again he was wrapped in a towel and leant against the bath, he had just showered and his eyes dart to mine and his brows pull together when he sees me.
"I don't, I can't." He cant even find the words. He just looks at me and deflates
"You." He sighs and I almost smile.
"Yeah it's me."
"This is rough, I told you to leave me be."
I walk towards his figure and run my hands through his wet hair when I reach him. He sighs, getting relief slightly from my touch but then brings his trembling hand up to mine and pulls it away.
"Please get out. I'm done pushing you away. I don't have the energy anymore, but you catch see me like this."
I ignore his words and lift my hands back up and along his jaw, his unshaven skin prickling my hand.
He looked so unwell, his eyes sunken, face pale. But he was still the most stunning thing. I wonder if everyone thinks that about him, if everyone views him like I do.
"Jackson, don't hate me. But I phoned your mum, she's going to come home." I say as I'm stood almost between his legs, looking down at him and watching his eyes dart in panic.
He brings his hands towards me and holds onto my thighs, his head falling so it was pressed against my stomach. "Does she hate me?"
"God, no Jackson. Everyone's just worried."
"I promise I didn't do this on purpose." He mumbles into me and I run my hand through his hair again, knowing it's comforting and needing to touch him.
"I know. We know. You just need to get help, you can't do this on your own."
"I'm not going back to rehab. No."
"Jackson you don't have a choice, you need to."
His whole-body trembles and I place a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady something that wasn't even in his control.
"I do, I'm 18. They'd have to get a court order and I'll be done by then."
"Jackson you cant do this."
'I can. I just need you and Max to go, I was doing fine."
"Jackson. You'll have to physically carry me out of this house if you want me to leave." I say and as I run my fingers through his hair, this time I grip a little and pull his head up so his eyes were trained on me.
"I'm here. Please let me be."
"I'm not going to stop detoxing and I'm not going to go into rehab." He says and I shake my head confused at him.
Why?
"This scares me." I whisper and he lowers his face and places his head against my abdomen again.
"Then leave."
"Nope." I say and I actually feel him start clenching against me, I feel as his stomach churns.
"I'm going to be sick.' He mutters and sluggishly moves to the toilet. I sit down where he was just sitting on the side of the bath and stay with him.
"I know you want to tell me to get out Jackson, but if you're hell bent on doing this at home then I'm going to be here. I'm going to go and get you everything you need, I'm going to sleep beside you and it's either that or you go in. I don't care."
He meets my eyes and just sighs, and then clenches his fists around the toilet and I watch as he struggles to keep his towel on him.
"I'll go get you a bottle of water and some shorts."
He doesn't reply but I watch as he moved closer to the bowel and I know he's slightly relieved I'm leaving the room before I watch him throw up.
I didn't care though about him throwing up, i wouldn't care how ugly this all got.
He was my Jackson.
Even if he wasn't actually mine. He was still the person that I cared so deeply about.
When I leave the bathroom, I'm confronted with the fact that Max is cleaning up, he has a trash bag and is tidying up all the mess of Jackson's bedroom.
"Hey." He mumbles to me and I come and sit on Jackson's bed. This room, god so much has happened here.
"Last time I was in here, I was sat right here." I say to Max and gesture to my spot. "And he told me that he loved me, and he thought I was going to tell him that I loved him too, but instead I told him I was leaving."
"Ivy he was hurt when you left, but he was ok. He wasn't drinking. You didn't do this." Max says and I send him a look.
"How do you know that? You didn't know he was drinking again until I shoved it down your throat."
Max remains silent and I sigh and run my hand over my face as I hear Jackson coughing in the bathroom.
I reach down and grab him a water bottle, and wonder over to his draws, searching for something comfy and cool for him to wear.
"We never caught on that you two were this close, I mean like we knew yous were seeing each other I guess, but not to the extent of loving each other."
"Neither of us acknowledge it till the last week, I just, I was in such a bad place and I loved him. I did. But I couldn't understand why he would love someone like me, so I never let myself feel it. Not fully. Every time I wondered if he felt the same way, if he cared about me just as much as I cared about him, I would just laugh at myself. But then things happened and there was no denying it, and then I was leaving."
"What about now?" Max whispers and I shrug.
"I don't think I'm ever going to love anyone else the same way I loved him. But I, this is way too complicated for feelings to be brought into it. I love him because he is my friend. I can't let myself fall back in love with him. He needs me as a friend right now, he needs all of us."
"You are pretty special Ivy." Max says and I turn back from my direction to the bathroom, and I am greeted with Max pulling me into a hug.
I've never hugged Max before; his arms were strong and firm and I knew he felt a little awkward at the contact. But as I wrapped my arms back around him, he hugs me tighter.
"I'm really happy you exist." He says and my eye brows raise at him, I don't get why but his words meant so much to me. I guess because last year I didn't know what life was going to bring. I didn't know what the point of everything was.
"Max. it's ok. He's going to be ok." I mumble against him and he nods. I didn't know if this was the truth, but I felt like it needed to be said.
My phone starts ringing and I immediately detangle myself and pick it up, knowing it should be Charlotte.
"Hey."
"Hi sweet, we've got a flight for tomorrow morning. We should be back as soon as possible. There's a space for him in rehab if he'll voluntarily go in, he's 18 we can't force him."
"Charlotte, he won't go, I asked and he flat out refuses. He says he wants to do this here, he wants to be at home."
"That bloody boy." She mumbles. "There's no way you can convince him?"
"I don't think so. He didn't even think about it."
"Ivy, I know this is so much to ask, but can you stay with him? Until we get back?"
"I was never planning on leaving."
"I guess you two have made up more from the day you came to the house."
"Yeah."
"If he's going to do this at home, he needs medication. I'll contact the doctor; Jesus I hate to ask but can you pick it up? Oh god I just want to be there." She says and my heart breaks for his mother.
"I'll do anything to help. This is not a burden to me Charlotte. I love your son with all my heart." I say and feel a little awkward so i clear up what i meant. "He's always going to be my best friend."
"Ok Ivy." She says and sighs deeply. "I need to get in touch with the doctors now. I'll send you over a list of everything they suggest. And I'll call you soon."
She quickly hangs up and I throw a soft smile to Max and renter the room with Jackson.
"Hey, here." I hand him the bottle and he doesn't even look up at me as he sips it. "I talked to your mum, how much were you drinking Jackson? I just need to know so I can tell her and she can tell the doctor."
"Why are you doing this Ivy? This isn't your job, you don't have to be here."
"I'm here because whilst you are like this, there is nowhere else I can be."
"You care too much. I can't deal with it." He says and I lower my eyes away from him. He was going to feel extra low today, extra anxious.
I didn't want to be a source of that anxiety. I just wanted to help.
"I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't have to be, I'm just mental." He sighs and takes the shorts off of me and stands. He turns away from me and pulls them up under his towel, and then sitting down on the closed lid off the toilet.
"You're not mental Jackson." I say and send him an amused smile when he looks at me helplessly.
"How bad was it? Yesterday?" i ask.
"It just felt like a really shit hang over, it only started getting bad in the night and then now-"
"Why did you try to do this on your own?"
"Because I got myself into this mess, I can get myself out of it."
I just meet his gaze and shake my head at him. I wish he could think of the situation as if it was the other way round.
"You lied to me, Jackson."
"I lied to myself, I just. I didn't want-"He sighs and goes to stand up but then sits down as if the room wasn't stable enough for him to move. "I didn't want you to know. To get mixed up with it all."
"Why not?"
"Because look at you, you're doing so good."
"Yeah, because I got help Jackson."
"I will get help." He promises. "I just need to do this first."
"How much were you drinking?"
"I um," He starts and looks so embarrassed and I reach out for him, but he just stares at my hand. "I was drinking every day before you came back, like um it started three months before you came back and I wasn't hiding it, I sort of just fell into it as if I forgot how bad it all was. And then when people started to notice I pretended to get help I pretended I was better, I felt so fucking useless, like I failed them. And then when you came back I knew that you would be able to see it, and I tried so fucking hard to just stop but every morning id wake up and id be so ill and I knew they'd know so I would just drink a little bit, i've just been drinking enough for my body to function properly."
"And because you haven't been drinking a lot, the depression." I say and he nods.
"Back with a fucking vengeance. Normally it's a low mood that gets me to want to drink but everything's fucked this time, I don't know what's going on."
"You haven't been to AA in months." I say. "Six."
"How do you even know that."
"I just do." I say and he wipes away a little bead of sweat that has formed on his shoulder.
"I just stopped going. I just one day I didn't get out of bed for it, and I actually almost felt better. Hiding from everything. And then the next week I went to go, but I found myself sitting outside, so fucking anxious to go in and I guess it was because I was already going down this slope but I just thought to myself 'why go if it stresses you out'."
He was being so open and I remember reading how as you detox you start to allow yourself to process all the emotions alcohol has been hiding from you. And instead of being alone, he's actually here talking to me.
That's all I've wanted in the six weeks I've been back, I wanted him to confide in me.
"Will you please go back? I will come. Or wait for you outside. I, just, I know how it feels to hate the thought of group or the thought of therapy. But you need help Jackson."
"I know."
He stands up again and this time makes it to the door, opening it and he looks so weak when he climbs back on his bed, laying down and shutting his eyes tightly as if he was in sudden pain.
"Mate." Max says and goes and places himself at the end of Jackson's bed. "What the hell man, you've always told me, we talk about this shit."
"Sorry." Jackson's voice is cold but I can hear the way he breathes his apology into existence that he is feeling so much guilt.
"Max, I need you to run to the shop. And to the pharmacy. His mum is going to send his prescriptions there, I'll text you a list of things."
I may as well use him if he's going to be here. I feel bad because I know that Max cares now, that he was just ignorant, that Jackson was too smart.
"Of course, I'll go into town. Do you need anything Ivy?" He asks and pushes himself off the bed as I take walk over to the window and push it open, flooding the room with sunlight and fresh air.
"No, I'll grab my things once you come back."
He nods at me and places a hand on Jackson's shoulder and Jackson does nothing apart from look away. Max heads out of the room and I wait until I hear the door close until I climb into bed the other side of the bed.
"You changed the bed." He whispers, turning around so we're facing each other.
"Yup." I say and smile at him. "I like you a lot, but I'm not sure I like you enough to sleep in your sweat." I say and he cringed. "Although I probably would."
"Ivy." He groans at my words.
"Hey." I smile at him gently.
"What did you mean by your things?"
"I'm going to stay with you until your mum gets home. I'll stay downstairs if you don't want me here, but I'll have to keep checking on you so."
"God why don't you think I'm disgusting?"
"You never thought I was disgusting. Even when I couldn't look at myself."
"That's because you are everything but disgusting."
"So are you." I say and I can't help it i reach for his face with my fingers, trailing my fingers over his features and he closes his eyes and relaxes into the bed.
"I really fucked everything up. Ivy I was drinking every day, I was still driving, I didn't care."
"And you could have hurt someone, you could have hurt yourself. But you have to make peace with it. You need to accept that this happened and that people still love you anyway."
"People need to stop."
"This is as much of an illness as PTSD, I don't have control sometimes and neither do you when you've been drinking. I am working, treating and accepting myself for who I am. You need to do the same."
"I really really hate that you are here." He says but then slides closer to me. He doesn't want me to snuggle into him, he's still trembling, still flushed, his body temperature higher than mine. But he wants the proximity, to know that I'm here when he closes his eyes again.
"Sleep Jackson." I whisper and continue to trace my fingers over him, this moment was so intimate that I found myself holding my breathe.
It was like the other week when he let me count all of his freckles, where he sat in front of me and let me use him to ground myself.
Soon enough his lips parted and his breathing eased and steadied. I bet he hardly slept last night.
I carry on tracing his features but with one hand forward the message from Charlotte to Max. I text my dad that I'll be home at some point later to explain everything and then I'd be going again.
My eyes find their way back to him and I just can't pull them away. What would have happened if Max didn't come here? If he didn't know where the spare key was? what would have happened if I never came back?
My heart hurts.
And I knew I said id let this destroy me, but I didn't think that what was going on with him would actually have the power to rip me apart. I knew that my feelings for him were complicated and I thought if I helped him, that they might come back and then I would end up hurt.
I never realised you could feel someone else's pain this vividly.
And then there were all the feelings.
What happens after this? I said I'd leave him to be, after I knew he was getting help, after I knew he was ok.
And how the hell was I going to do that? Now?
What did ya think?