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Milo

As soon as I saw Joey drive away, I pulled out my phone and searched for the nearest meeting. I didn't know if I was just psyching myself out or what, but I wasn't about to throw two years down the drain. I found one the next night at some center. I only had to make it until then to see what all the fuss was about.

I went to my apartment and watched MMA on the DVR while I folded some clothes, anything to keep my mind busy. That afternoon I went to work and actually looked forward to the long night. I worked for a mechanic shop. The owner knew the pastor and took me on, though I had no experience, no real job history, and a record of being a complete tool. Sometimes I worked at night instead of the daytime. It didn't matter when we worked, and most of the time I was just dunking parts into the vat to be cleaned anyway. He was slowly showing me how to do it all.

I couldn't work on anything by myself, but maybe one day. I didn't even know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

After that night and the next day of work, I went to the meeting. It was right after work, so that was perfect. I walked, leaving my doors-off Jeep at the shop. It was only about six blocks away and I exercised a lot to keep myself busy. When I got there, I looked at the different people. They were from all walks of life and looked pretty normal. I guess I looked normal, too, though I always thought people could sniff me out as an addict every time I met someone.

There were several coffee pots in the back, and I usually liked a cup at any given time, but tonight, I just wanted to look. I needed to see what these people and I had in common. Why addiction chose us, how this group was supposed to make me feel better and keep me from wanting to go snag a bottle or hit up a dark alley for something stronger.

So I watched. There were several people off to the side who I knew were officiators or moderators or whatever they were called. They talked amongst themselves and let everyone move around them. My eyes found a young girl, someone too young and dark and gorgeous to be in this place—unless she just worked there. Though her eyes stayed on the other woman she was talking to, even I could tell her mind was somewhere else. She looked entirely too vacant, too much a shell of a beautiful girl and not enough of the spunky aliveness I knew girls possessed.

But when an older guy came and touched her arm, her face lit up as she reached around his neck. It was as if her heart was waiting for any reason to be happy so it could shine. She seemed so genuinely joyful as she watched him walk to his seat. And then the light oozed out of her like spilled paint—a slow progression back into her introverted self that just existed. I'd never felt like I'd met anyone who understood me, who felt like I felt…but this girl, without even realizing it, had showed me exactly what I must seem like. I was constantly grabbing on to moments that would make me feel something other than emptiness and guilt. And as soon as it left, I was back to wondering how I was going to make it through the day.

They all started to sit in the plain white chairs in the plain white room, in rows with no podium or stage in front. All equal and on the same level. It made me uneasy for some reason. I felt anxious about this. How was listening to people tell me how much they wanted to take a pill going to make me want to even less than I did already?

But it wasn't what I expected at all. It was way worse.

When the guy started talking, I made my way to a chair on the edge so I could escape quickly. The trapped-rabbit feeling got worse with every second I stayed. I swung my gaze over to the beauty and was happily stunned to find her eyes already on me. She smiled a little and then refocused on the guy up front. I did, too. I felt like I was about to get in trouble for not paying attention in class.

I expected the man to start telling us about his daily life and how he handled it. When that man started in on how he had ruined his life, how he had pushed away his family and severed all ties because he thought he had been validated in his anger—he let one bad thing in his life control and ruin him—it hit way too close to home.

Joey had been my sponsor for all intents and purposes, and I wasn’t ashamed of that. I'd gotten over the awkwardness of being an addict. It was a part of me, it always would be a part of me, and she had helped me through that. But I'd never had to sit in a room full of people and listen to them mirror their stories with mine about how they'd screwed things up so badly they didn't know if they could ever fix them.

There wasn't a day that went by that my heart didn't question every move, every decision, every puzzle piece put in place by my actions. And every day since Mamma had sent that note to my friend's house, knowing I'd eventually make my way there and receive it—the note that told me that Mason was getting married at the church in town on New Year's. I hated him, but needed to see it. I needed to see him marry her…because he was still my brother. Back then I hadn't understood it, but now I did. I had hated and loved my brother. I hated that he was happy back then, but now, it gave me hope that I could one day be happy, too.

I slipped from my chair and wondered how the hell I was going to do this. I couldn't come back here every week if they were going to have a rehash session every time.

I could feel the beauty's dark eyes on me as I made my way down the side aisle. I couldn't help but look over and get my final look of the girl I'd caught staring at me before walking out of this place and never coming back, but when I turned, she was gone.

I felt her loss like a shot through my skull.

I actually
felt something
. That hadn't happened with anything or anyone in years. Joey didn't count—this was something I hadn't felt since I was a teenager enthralled with the new girl at school. My eyes searched the room for her and came up empty. I sighed and swallowed hard; my revelation, a fresh wound that ached in both bad and good ways.

I turned and had to reach out and grip the upper arms of the girl, who had been entirely too close for proper etiquette, to keep her from falling.

The beauty.

When her mouth opened, her voice skated over my skin, making every vein and muscle perk up to attention.

"Hey, it's barely even started and you're leaving? You're new, right?" she asked, though I could tell she knew the answer already.

"I was leaving," I answered truthfully, "but honestly, I think…I've found a reason to stay." My tone and the way my eyes bore into hers left nothing to the imagination. I was absolutely flirting with her. It shocked the hell out of me that I got so much enjoyment out of it. And I enjoyed the blush that crept into her cheeks very much.

She smiled a little in allowance. "I would think you would have a better reason to stay."

I felt my lips lift. "Mmm, right now? I don't think so."

She barely licked her lip and then looked behind me. "There's an empty chair right here in the back. We call this the
safe zone
. For the commitment-phobes."

I laughed. "I think I probably qualify. And…where are you sitting?" I asked, but we both knew I knew.

She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I stand in the back. I think I'm more of a commitment-phobe than you. Besides, I've done my stint in NA already. Now I'm just here for…moral support. And to keep the phobes from escaping."

She giggled at her own joke. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen.

My mouth said, "Want to compare phobes…over dinner tonight?" I gritted my teeth at myself. I hadn't even been at NA for five minutes and I was already asking a girl out.

Her breath released slowly. "Addicts aren't really supposed to date other addicts. Besides, are you supposed to be dating right now?" she asked.

People in AA or NA or anything else weren't supposed to date for years or something. But I wasn't really in NA, or was I? I was just hoping I could keep myself out of trouble without Joey here.

"Whoa, who said anything about a date?" I teased.

Her lips parted and she backtracked. "Uh…I thought—"

"Is that a no, then?" I grinned along with my teasing.

"So you're not officially in the program? How many days are on your coin?"

"Don't have a chip or coin or badge or any of that other stuff. I…" I smiled and felt kind of guilty for some reason. "I've never gone to meetings."

"No meetings. No coins." She took a deep breath. "You can still answer my question of how many days sober, can't you?"

"I could," I ventured and smiled. She stared at my mouth for a few long seconds before looking back up to my eyes.

"You are a compulsive question avoider, aren't you?" Again she hit the nail on the head. She smiled to ease the sting.

"Guilty as charged."

"Would saying no flat-out help or hurt your ego with the fact that you're not supposed to be dating yet anyway?"

It was as if she knew I was hiding this big, bad secret inside and wanted to take it easy on me, but still call me on my crap.

"Not really. You see, I'm just here because I promised my friend I'd come."

She nodded, her lips sucking into her mouth in between her teeth. "Who?"

"Who what?"

"Who did you promise you'd come?" She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head, waiting for my answer.

"A friend. She left for a job in Texas. She was my…"

"Girlfriend," she supplied, and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop the disappointment from seeping into her words and her face.

Good night
, the little insightful, raven-haired minx was going to slay me where I stood. "No. My sponsor, of sorts. She took care of me herself. Her dad's a preacher and they watched out for me. Besides, I asked you out. I wouldn't have done that if I had a girlfriend."

"I guess not," she said. She looked infinitely sad all of a sudden. I went to speak, but she beat me to it, leaning back against the wall. "I wouldn't be a very good date even if you were supposed to be dating." She was not going to let that go, huh? Must be a strict thing around here. "I'm…" She pulled a coin from her pocket. She held it up sadly and smiled. "Mine is a three year coin. And counting." One side of her mouth lifted as she looked at it, almost lovingly. Maybe it was full-blown love for that coin, I didn't know. "You're not supposed to date for at least one year, some say two, but I've had a million and one things going on at once." She finally looked at me again. "Boys were never one of them."

I saw it, the barely-there spark that was left in her. She thought she was used up; she thought she had nothing left to give. It broke that vessel in my chest right there in the back of the NA meeting. I knew then I wanted more than just some flirting. And the tactics were going to have to change. Flirting came back so easily for some reason, but that wasn't what this girl needed. She needed someone to show her that whatever we were before wasn't who we had to be. Whatever sins of our past could stay there and not follow us into the rest of our lives.

But that somebody wasn't me.

I couldn't be somebody's light. I barely lit my own way on most days. So I looked around before looking back at her. She had a knowing smile on her face—her gorgeous little face that pleaded with me to save her and make her whole. "Well, I guess I'll see you around."

She nodded and put her coin back into her pocket. She smiled and turned to grab a pamphlet off the wall.

"My number's on the bottom." I raised a brow at that, my grin slightly returning. Her neck turned pink and she chuckled under her breath. "I mean, the hotline's number. I work here at the center. If you ever need to talk to someone or know someone who needs to talk, the number is on the bottom."

"And you would answer the phone?"

"Sometimes. There are several of us. I'm here almost every day." She pursed her lips a little at that admission. "Anyway. Good luck…uh?"

"Milo. Miles. Whatever."

"Milo." She picked the name as if she was claiming that as the name she'd call me. "Maya."

She put her hand out and I took it, pumping it gently. "It was nice to meet you, Maya."

"Same, Milo. I hope to see you again. Here, at the center for a meeting," she hurriedly corrected.

"Maybe." I started to leave, but stopped and looked over at her. "And if I had one of those chips, it would say one year, ten months, and twenty-one days on it. Not quite two years, but it's longer than I thought I'd ever get," I mused. That just didn't seem real. If she could only have seen me back then.