Page 81 of Finding Him
“You can’t fix what he did.”
“He? Who? Who did what? Molly, talk to me. Who are you talking about?”
I just shake my head some more, my hands shaking. I step backwards—further away from her, closer to my room. “It’s not your problem anymore.”
“Molly—”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “If you want to help, then just leave me alone. You stopped being my sister a long time ago, Jamie.”
I’m able to make it back to my bedroom before I let another tear fall. I want to break something—I imagined smashing every picture on my shelves, tearing down my posters of Hope Solo and Amy Winehouse, smashing the bedside lamp through the big bay window. But I only slam my door, and slide down it until my butt hits the floor.
I suck in some breaths, practicing all the age-old methods for panic attacks that I know by heart until I’ve calmed down enough to see colors other than red.
Five things you can see...
A stuffed frog on my desk, Amy Winehouse, the lamp I forgot to turn off this morning, a picture of me and dad when I was two, the blazer I discarded this morning in favor of the pull-over sweater.
Four things you can feel...
My post-practice sweats, the ceramic cup, the door, the floor.
Three things you can hear...
My heartbeat. My breathing. My thoughts.
Feels like a copout, but okay. Two things you can smell.
My watermelon scented shampoo. I lift the coffee cup to my nose, pushing back the plastic tab to smell. It’s not as rich a smell as earlier, it’s different, but I attribute that to the fact that it’s gotten cold.
One thing you can taste.
I lift the cup to my lips, tossing it back even though I’ve pretty much calmed down by now. I nearly choke as liquid fire hits my throat, and I spit half of the drink all over my hand and shirt. What I’m not able to spit out burns a trail down my esophagus, making me feel like I’m melting from the inside out.
I stare at the cup in my hand, gears turning in my mind as I try to figure outwhyall I can taste is... is that alcohol? It’s definitely not what I tasted earlier, but then—
The cups.
Niall had the exact same cup as JJ. When JJ grabbed a cup to give me, he had to have handed me the wrong one by accident.
But if this was Niall’s cup then...
That meant Niall had been drinking. Alot, if this half-full cup of coffee was any indicator. It tasted like it had more alcohol concentration than some beers.
He was drinking during practice.
During school hours.
Knowing he was going to be driving us home.
And heliedto me.
“Are you okay? Saturday night was...”
“A one-off. Just a one time thing. I was... stressing out. I had liquor on me for the party later, not cause... don’t go thinking I’m a drunkard or anything.”
My hands shake, as I sit motionless on the floor and staring at the cup of lies I’m holding in my hand. I’m not sure what to do.
And I don’t know what I am gonna do until I figure it out.
