His back is turned to me and his elbows rest on the wall as he leans slightly over the edge of the building, staring down at the avenue below. He’s not doing anything but that. Just standing there.
Taking a deep breath, I approach him and stop a few feet away. “Hey,” I say. Calm. Nonchalant. Inside, I’m burning up.
Tyler swivels around, startled by the sound of my voice and a little surprised at my presence. He smiles, though. It’s a warm one. “Hey,” he says. “Sorry I didn’t let you know I was up here. I thought you’d take longer in the shower so I don’t know, I just thought I’d head up. It’s too hot out to stay inside anyway, you know? Goddamn, it really is hot out here, though. Hey, your face looks kinda bur—”
“Tyler,” I say quietly but firmly as I cut him off. My eyes meet his and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to talk. I feel nauseous as I reach into my pocket for the bag of weed. Grasping it between my thumb and forefinger, I hold it up right in front of his face, and I glare at him as sharply and as fiercely as I possibly can. “What’s this?”
His eyes widen as he studies the bag and almost immediately his expression shifts from relaxed to panicked. I can see it in his eyes. He’s speechless, and as I watch him wordlessly part his lips, I feel my chest collapsing.
“You’re gonna tell me it’s Snake’s, right?” I ask quietly, my tone pleading. That’s what I want to hear. It’s what I need to hear, otherwise I’m not going to be okay. My voice cracks and all I can whisper is, “Please tell me it’s Snake’s.”
“Eden . . .” Tyler says slowly, and the guilt pooling in his eyes gives me the answer I didn’t want. He’s not even trying to hide it. He’s not even going to attempt to deny it.
Suddenly, I explode. It’s a mixture of fury and disappointment, consuming me all at once and fueling my words. “You lied to me!” I yell, livid. “You lied straight to my face when I asked you if you were fine! You’re not fine! You’re a liar!”
“Eden, I am fine,” Tyler protests, voice quiet. He looks ashamed, and so he should be. I’m so, so unbelievably let-down. “It’s just—”
“Are you back on coke, too?” My voice is like acid.
“God, no.”
“When did you start this shit?” I demand, waving the bag in the air. Part of me wants to throw it over the edge of the building. “When did you start all of this again?”
Tyler bites at his lower lip as he looks back at me, guilt still dripping from his face, his eyes softly crinkling at the corners. “A couple weeks after I moved here,” he admits.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Tyler? That quick?” I explode, shaking my head in disbelief. This can’t be real. “You could have gotten kicked off the tour!”
“I’m not stupid enough to get caught.”
“You just did, moron,” I snap. I throw the bag at his chest and it drops to the ground as I turn around, too furious to even look at him any longer.
“Eden, please, just chill,” Tyler says from behind me, never raising his voice. I don’t blame him. He’s been caught. Of course he’s quiet. “It’s just weed.”
“That’s not the point!” Growing more pissed off each second, I spin back around and throw my hands up in exasperation. He doesn’t get it at all. “You’re supposed to be fine! Is that why you’re up here all the time? To get high?”
“I can stop right now,” he says, not quite answering my question, and he doesn’t sound convincing at all. “Watch me.” Bending down, he grabs the bag from the ground and closes his fist tightly around it, then lurches forward to latch on to my wrist.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss, but it’s no use. He’s already pulling me across the terrace, straight for the door. He doesn’t say anything as he drags me along with him. He’s too focused, breathing heavily. I don’t particularly want to talk to him now either, so we head down the stairs and into the elevator in complete silence.
I’m so mad. So furious. So livid. So angered. So confused. Why? Why would Tyler do this again? I don’t get it. Folding my arms across my chest, I glance sideways and step further away from him as the elevator takes us back down to the twelfth floor. I don’t want to be anywhere near him. He’s totally blown it. Big time.
Nonetheless, he clasps my arm again and pulls me out of the elevator, walking so fast along the lobby to his apartment that I end up almost jogging. Because I forgot to lock the door, he leads me inside without hesitation, and the moment he glances over to the kitchen, I notice the way his eyes harden even more as he spots the jar of weed lying on the worktop. As for the apartment itself, it reeks of the stuff, and I’m now regretting ever opening it.