But hey, at least I got a little hot. That's always a plus.
Caleb is fiddling with the tape holding the IV to his arm. He looks a hell of a lot better now that he's no longer dying. It always does something to the complexion, that whole not-dying thing.
Finally he glances up at me. "So you and Abby, huh?"
It's a desperate attempt at a normal conversation when we’ve never really had one before. I don’t even think to ask him how he knows her name.
"Yeah."
"She’s cute," he says quietly. I brace, waiting for him to comment about the color of her skin. Instead he says nothing.
"Yeah, she is." I swallow the unexpected lump in my throat at the reminder of how I met her.
"So what happened?" I finally ask.
"I don't honestly f*ck
ing know." His words are sharp and biting. Not the defensiveness of a junkie hiding his latest fix. The anger of someone who screwed up and doesn't know how. "After we went out, I couldn't sleep. I kept drinking. And the next thing I know, I wake up here."
My stomach twists. The memory is too fresh, too real, too close to a f*ck
ing disaster for me to pretend it doesn't matter. I rub my hands over my mouth. "Jesus."
"Yeah. I f*ck
ed up." He rubs his hand over his face. His eyes are bleary and bloodshot.
"I need a f*ck
ing drink," I mumble.
"That makes you an alcoholic."
"I'm only marginally less f*ck
ed up than you are." I flip him off.
"I knew I liked you."
I laugh and it silences the voice in my head for a moment. I notice him flexing his arm. I don't think he even realizes he's doing it.
There's more to Caleb’s story; that's for damn sure. Then again, there's always more to our stories. At least, that's what I've always figured. The guys who won't talk about it are the ones who dealt with some shit.
I tip my head toward Caleb. "I thought you were tied into the VA since you came home?"
He shakes his head. "They keep canceling my appointments." But he looks down the street, away from where I'm standing.
I don't push. Maybe I should. But I can't get past the noise in my head. And there's no room in my rucksack to carry any of the rocks from his.
I've got my own wounds that are scabbing over.
I grip his shoulder silently. There's really nothing I can say. Nothing appropriate, anyway.
"You should talk to the doc."
"I did. They gave me more meds." I can't take the pain away. But he can forget for a little while.
"Sounds about right." He's waiting for a more extreme reaction from me. He's not going to get one. I'm all for whatever it takes to get by out here.
"I can't function." He's braced. Waiting for judgment and condemnation. "I've been trying since I got home. I f*ck
ing can't do it."
"So what's the problem? You're going to one of the top schools in the country and you're doing fine. I fail to see the problem here if you need a little help sleeping or managing the anxiety."
Caleb doesn't answer. Not for a long moment. I'm not sure what rabbit hole he's gone down. All I can do is wait for him to come back up. No matter what. Because that's what we do. We stick. We don't f*ck
ing run out on people who matter to us. No matter how broken, how f*ck
ed up. We stand together. Shoulder to shoulder.
I think that's the part I miss the most about being in. It's what I've been looking for since I got here.
Caleb finally looks up at me. "I guess it's not okay if I have to spend the rest of my life liquored up just to go get out of bed every day." He pauses, rubbing his hand over his mouth.
I look down at my hands. I can't help but wonder what I wouldn't trade to have a drinking problem and working dick.
But I can't tell him that.
Finally I glance up at him. "I can't tell you what the right thing to do is." I press my lips together, hoping I've got the right words. "But whatever you decide, me and Eli and the guys…we’ll be here."
He nods. And yeah, I get it. People don't know what it's like to have a family like the one you get in the Army. The people who will drop everything and fly halfway around the world if you need them.
Or who will sit in a hospital with you as you try to figure out if you're going to take the red pill or the blue pill.
Abby
The rain is falling outside, sparkling sheets of grey in the street lamps. I’m sitting with Graham in the waiting room…just waiting for whatever comes next.
"What are you thinking?"
I look up at Graham’s cautious question.
"I don't know."
"After all of this, Josh better be worth it." He pauses. "Or else I'll have to kill him."
"I think he is." I swallow and look over at him. "But it hurts. And I don't think love is supposed to hurt like this." I lean against him, resting my cheek against his shoulder.