I feel like she was saying goodbye when she said that. I wasn’t trying to break up with her. I probably should, though. I should just walk away and let her move on, find someone that doesn’t have so many problems. Someone she can rely on all of the time. Someone that isn’t so weak…but I am too selfish to do that. I need her just like I need air to breathe.
Now that I am sober, I feel even worse about the way I treated her and the way I made her cry. She didn’t deserve that. She’s the one person that has never judged me. She wanted me for me since the first moment she saw me. God, there are times I couldn’t even say that about my own family. She is the only person that I have ever come in contact with that never saw me as Travis the addict, Travis the drunk, Travis the colossal fuck up. To Gracie, I have always just been Travis.
I sigh loudly as I roll over in bed so that I am facing the window. I can’t remember the last time I felt this alone. Not in the actual sense, considering Remy is sleeping in the other room. That’s another thing that slightly annoys me. My family has set up some sort of twenty-four-seven security detail for the next few days. It’s a shame that they know me that well. Of course, it is only because I admitted that I had the urge to use and not because they didn’t trust me.
If I am being completely honest, the urge is still there. When I close my eyes all I see is myself getting my hands on that fine white powder, cooking it, and injecting it as fast as I possibly can. I sit up quickly, rubbing my hands over my eyes, trying to get those images out of my mind. The bright red numbers on my alarm clock blink, letting me know that it is quarter after one in the morning. I am never going to get any sleep right now. I am too jittery. I can’t just lie here thinking about using when I know that I can’t.
Pushing back my covers, I climb out of bed. Grabbing a pair of jeans, I pull them on and walk out of the room. Remy is sleeping soundly on my couch. I pause by the couch, glancing back and forth between the front door and the basement door.
It would be so easy to sneak out, put my car in neutral to back it down the driveway, drive into the city where I know someone will be standing out on Fifth and Orange. Depending on who is out there, I could probably get just enough for a single dose.
Who the hell are you trying to kid? You know damn well you aren’t going to be able to use just once.
I ball my hands into fists and flex them out, trying hard to control the urge. I close my eyes so that I can’t see the front door and I turn away from it. Opening my eyes, I hurry to the basement door, flinging it open and running down the steps. I move the “angry art” canvas that I had painted earlier and replace it with a new one. Walking over to the sink, I dump out the murky, paint-tinged water in the coffee can, rinse it out and fill it back up with clean water. I set it down before grabbing paint brushes and my jellybean-shaped palette, filling it up with about a dozen dollops of different colored paint.
I flip on my CD player, opting for a little bit of Staind this time. ‘It’s Been Awhile’ flows through the room as I start painting the image that is currently seared into my brain. My favorite image. I have every curve of her body committed to memory, so it is easy for me to get the outline of her onto the canvas quickly. I paint one of my favorite moments of her. She was lying in bed, right after the first time we made love. She had the sheet wrapped around her body, her hair was tousled and her eyes were clouded with a combination of exhaustion and ecstasy.
The longer I paint, the more I feel in control of myself and my urges. My body is screaming for me to lie down and I am so tired, but I don’t dare stop. I just want to keep going, keep painting, keep meandering along until it becomes a respectable time to call someone, which, according to my mother, is not one minute before ten o’clock.
“How long have you been down here?” Remy yawns behind me.
I shrug, without stopping. “Don’t know. Since sometime around one or two, I think.”
“Travis, you need some sleep, bro.” Remy crosses the room to where I am painting and pats me on the shoulder. “C’mon, why don’t you lie down for a little bit?”
I shake my head. Frowning, I glance down at my palette, trying to figure out what color I want to use next.
“Is that Gracie?” he asks.
“Yup.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“Nope.”
Footsteps sound above us and I whip around, glancing at Remy in confusion. I point my paint brush towards the ceiling. Remy pulls his phone out of his pocket, glances at the screen and slips it back inside. “That would be Liam. He’s going to hang out with you for a bit today.”
“Doesn’t he have class?” I frown. School was never my thing, but Liam is a hell of a lot smarter than I am. He’s been working his ass off trying to get his degree in behavioral health counseling. The last thing I want is for him to be cutting class to babysit me.
“He says he doesn’t have class today. You think he’s lying, take it up with him.”
The basement door creaks open and Liam runs down the stairs. “What are you guys doing down here?” he asks.
Remy points towards me and shakes his head. “Trav is on some no sleep kick. He was down here painting when I got up. Says he’s been down here all night long.”
“Think it’s time to call it quits and get some sleep?” Liam asks me.
“No, I want to talk to Claire first.” I turn back to my canvas and get back to work shading in the background behind Gracie.
Liam plops down on the sofa. I can feel Remy’s eyes burning right through me for a few minutes before he goes over and sits down with Liam. The only reason I know he has moved away from me is because I can hear them whispering to each other. I can catch bits and pieces of their conversation, but not enough to really know what they are plotting over there.
“All right.” Remy stands up and walks back over to where I am painting. “I have to get ready and go to the garage. I’m going to call Claire and ask her to come over and talk to you.”
“No, I can drive over there. Nathanial took me to get my car yesterday before he had to go into work.”
“No, you can’t. You haven’t slept in what? Over twenty-four hours?”
“Close,” I admit.
“Well, you aren’t getting behind the wheel. She isn’t going to mind coming over Travis. Just keep painting and I’m sure she’ll be over here as soon as she can.”
Remy calls out a goodbye to Liam and then I hear him stomping loudly up the stairs. He must have called Claire as he was walking out the door, because not even ten minutes after he leaves, she comes hurrying down into my basement. She says hello to Liam, who excuses himself to go get something to eat. I’m sure he did that more so Claire and I could have a couple of moments to talk together.
Claire grabs one of my wooden stools and drags it over to where I am standing. Paint brushes in hand, I walk over to the sink and turn on the water to rinse them out. Grabbing the coffee can, I dump the muddy looking water out, rinse it with clean water and set the paint brushes in it to dry. I grab a bar of soap, lathering up my hands and scrubbing to get the paint off until my skin is red and raw. I dry them off on a paper towel, throwing that into the trash before walking over to sit with Claire.
It is completely obvious that I am stalling, but only because I don’t want her to be disappointed in me. This was something that her son did all of the time and I don’t want her to think that I am following in his footsteps.
“What’s going on, sweet boy?” She reaches her hand out, running her fingers through my hair.
My head drops down so that my chin is in my chest. Breathing in deep, I let out a long, slow breath. “I went to a party the other night,” I start. “Someone spiked my drink and when I realized what was going on, I was already drunk and I was so upset that I continued drinking until I passed out.”
I get the courage to look up at her. It kills me to see a sad look crossing her normally sunny face.
“Why do I get the feeling there is more that you want to s
ay?” she asks.
“Because I have been fighting the urge to not use since then,” I admit.
“Heroin?”
“Yes.” I hate admitting that to her because I know heroin is the same thing her son, Jake, was hooked on.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why do you think it is you want to use so badly?” She gives me a stern look. “And I want you to be completely honest with me, Travis.”
I sigh loudly. “A couple of reasons. Because I feel out of control and destructive and that’s one thing I know that can take that feeling away for a little while, because I hate that I am disappointing people and I figure, I already fucked up so I might as well keep on going and because.” I take a deep breath because I am about to admit something that everyone else knew but I kept denying. “Because I knew that soda tasted off and I knew why. I wanted to drink. I wanted to be the Travis that didn’t give a shit for one night but then I realized I was drunk and how easy it was for me to not even notice what I was drinking and that scared the shit out of me because I don’t want to go down that path again.”
“And you won’t,” she tells me, grabbing my arm affectionately. “You have your family, you have me and you have Gracie. We are all here for you, Travis, because we love you.”
“I thought you were going to be so disappointed in me,” I admit.
Claire takes one of my hands in hers, lacing our fingers together and squeezing tightly. “You’ve had one set back, Travis. You aren’t constantly on and off the wagon. You have worked hard to get to where you are today. You don’t have to throw that all away because you had one moment of weakness. Talk to people, go to meetings and get on with your life.”
I nod my head, listening to her as she talks a hell of a lot calmer than I thought she would. She isn’t saying anything I don’t already know, but somehow, she is making me feel better. I guess it’s just the fact that she is validating everything for me.
“I need to talk to Gracie,” I announce, saying it more to myself than to Claire. “I was an asshole to her.”
“She’s a sweet girl, Travis. Don’t shut her out.” Claire lets go of my hand. She stands up, puts her hand under my chin and tilts my face back so that I am looking up at her. “Before you talk to her, though, take a shower and get some sleep. You look terrible and you don’t smell that great either.”
I laugh as I stand up and pull Claire in for a hug. She’s right, I do smell pretty bad, though I’m not surprised considering what the past few days have been like for me. I walk Claire out and yell to Liam that I am going to take a nap. A part of me is worried about what is going to happen once I lie down. Talking to Claire has really calmed me down a lot and I am nervous that being alone with my thoughts again is going to cause me to lie in bed and think about using. Turns out, it is a pointless thing to worry about, because as soon as my head hits the pillow, my eyes close and I quickly succumb to the sleep that I so desperately need.
~*~
The first thing I notice when I wake up is how ridiculously dry my mouth is. I groan as I roll out of bed. I quickly pull on a clean pair of jeans and a black tee. Padding out of my room and down the hall, I come to a stop when I see someone sitting on the couch. It takes me a minute to remember that Liam was here for his turn to ‘babysit’ me.
“Hey, Li,” I mutter as I walk into the kitchen.
“Hey Trav. How are you feeling?”
I grab a glass out of the cabinet and turn around. Liam is standing behind me, leaning up against the door frame with one ankle crossed over the other. My stomach pulls in regret as I take in the sight of him. The whites around his hazel eyes are red – from either crying or not getting enough sleep, I’m not quite sure which. His mouth is turned down into a frown and the worried look on his face makes him appear years older than twenty. Twenty…shit. It hits me right then that Liam is the same age I was when I entered rehab.
Turning on the sink, I hold my glass under the water, filling it up about halfway. I tip the cup to my lips, gulping the cool water down as fast as I can. My mouth still feels dry, so I refill my glass again, draining it quickly. I can feel Liam’s eyes on me the entire time. He’s waiting for an answer and I suppose it looks worse than I mean for it to that I haven’t given him one yet.
“I’ve been better,” I admit. “What time are you here until?”
“I’m yours for the night.”
“I need to run out for a little bit. Not quite sure how long I will be,” I tell him.
Liam runs his tongue across his teeth and frowns. I can tell he is trying to figure out what he should do. Can’t be easy being the youngest brother in a situation like this. It kind of reminds me of when we were younger and we would try to talk him into doing things, telling him our parents would be okay with it when we all knew he would end up getting in trouble.
There was one time we convinced him that dinosaur bones were buried in the backyard. The four of us sat back and watched as he eagerly dug multiple holes in the lush green grass, only to end up losing his Nintendo privileges for a week - a big deal when you are seven years old. He swore he would never trust anything we told him ever again.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“I need to talk to Gracie, and before you ask, no, this is not something I can do over the phone.”
“All right…I’ll drop you off at her house. I could stand to go to the library for a little while anyway.”
I’d prefer to drive myself, but it’s not worth arguing over. If I put up a fight, he’s not going to believe that I am really going to Gracie’s house, which will end up with the whole family over here, and that will end up in a fight. Not worth it, when I am telling him the truth about where I am going.
“Fine.” I glance over at the time on my microwave. “She’ll be getting home from work soon, so let me know when you are ready.”
Liam grabs his book bag and we climb into his GTO. I love this car and am in a constant state of jealousy over it. Remy fixed it up by himself and gave it to Liam when he started college. It’s shiny, red and black, and positively fucking gorgeous.
He pulls up alongside the curb in front of Gracie’s house. She isn’t home yet. Liam’s eyes flick nervously back and forth between me and the empty house.
“You want me to wait here until she gets home?” he asks.
“No, I’ll be fine. She should be home in just a couple of minutes.”
Liam grips the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white as he stares straight ahead.
“Your internal struggles must be so stressful.” I spit out sarcastically.
“Don’t do that, Travis. Don’t turn this around on me. If the situation were reversed, you would be doing the same thing,” he says quietly.
“Where the fuck do you think I am going to get drugs around here?” I ask. Gracie has a couple of neighbors but she isn’t exactly in a prime location for scoring drugs. I guess someone like Liam wouldn’t know that though. After what he saw me go through and put the family through, I am pretty sure he hasn’t even touched a cigarette, let alone anything harder.
Liam sighs. “All right, I’m trusting you, Travis. I’m going to hit the library, and if I don’t hear from you by the time I am done, I’ll go back to your house. I’m trusting you. Please don’t give me any reason to regret this.”
“I’ll call you when I figure out what I’m doing,” I mumble as I open the door and climb out. This is kind of fucking pathetic. I’m twenty-four years old and I can’t even be trusted to drive myself to my girlfriend’s house. Is she even my girlfriend still? I have no fucking idea at the moment but I pray to God that she still is.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gracie
I pull into my driveway and am greeted by the sight of Travis sitting on the stoop. His arms are folded across his knees and he has his head dipped down, resting on top. My heart rate speeds up. I haven’t had a single call or text from him since he kicked me out. The
last thing I expected to see was him sitting in front of my house waiting for me to get home.
Turning off the car, I climb out and walk towards him. He doesn’t look up and part of me wonders if he even realizes I am here.
“Travis?” I say softly.
His head flies up and my heart breaks again at the sight of him. His eyes look tired, his beautiful face looks completely dejected. He hops up to his feet so quickly, he nearly stumbles backwards. I walk up to him but he makes no attempt to come near me. I don’t know what to say to him, so I don’t say anything. I walk past him, up to my door. I hear his footsteps, so I know he follows me. I open the door, walk through and hold it open for him. As I lock the door behind us, I feel his hands travel slowly up my bare arms.
“Gracie,” he whispers.
I turn around slowly. Travis’s eyes burn right through the depths of me as he stares into my eyes. His eyes fill up with tears, mirroring my own.
“I’m sorry, Gracie. I’m so damn sorry.” His voice is quiet and remorseful.
Dropping my purse and keys onto the floor, I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face into his chest. Travis’s strong arms circle around my body, pulling me in as close as he can. He rests his head on top of mine.
“Do you think you can forgive me?” he whispers so quietly that I almost don’t hear him.
I lean my head back so that I can stare into his eyes. My hand reaches up to caress his cheek and he turns his face into my hands, pressing his lips lightly against my palm. My body shivers at the feeling of his soft lips on me.
“I forgive you, Travis,” I say. “But you can’t kick me out every time I say something that you don’t want to hear. I can’t agree with you on certain things just so that you don’t feel bad about yourself.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” He apologizes again. He drops his arms down to his sides and lets out a sigh. He walks farther into the house, and turns around to face me. Raising his arms up, he clasps his hands behind his head and shrugs. The bottom of his t-shirt lifts up, flashing me a hint of this taut stomach. “I know it’s not an excuse, but I hated the idea of you agreeing with her. I felt like you were looking at me the way they all were and it would kill me if you did. I love you, Gracie, and the last thing I want is for you to see me the way everyone else in this fucking town does.”
Travis Page 17
