Hooked (13 page)

He looks at me intently, his voice soft as he asks, "I'm coming back tomorrow, is that ok? Can I come back tomorrow?"

"If you will," I answer, my hands reaching to push up his long sleeves from his wrists to his elbows and we both sigh as my fingertips brush back down against his forearms. "Don't promise me shit, Lex. You've always kept your word, I don't know why you picked now all of a sudden to start fucking around with me."

I shake my head in disbelief, breaking his gaze as I look off over his shoulder and I keep pushing down those tears that have been lingering ever since I stepped into the room. He grips my waist tighter as he moves his head to meet my eyes again, looking at me with sincerity.

"Leala..." he starts, but Jason steps back into the doorway.

"Time's up," his voice fills the room and Lex steps back from me quickly and I almost whine as my body goes cold when he takes his hands off of me.

He looks back at me, searching, wanting something...something that we both want but we can't have. Not now. It's not right.

God, he just...he needs to go.

I look down at the floor, dismissing his request silently and the tears are there, so fucking close, but they have to stay away, at least until he's gone.

"Bye Lex," I say it quickly, quietly, and he reaches down, taking my hand in his for just a moment, squeezing it before he leaves the room without saying a word and I clench my eyes shut tight until I feel my fingers slip from his and I know he's gone...

Who knows if he'll be back.

And I let the tears come.

Visitation is in the afternoon on the weekends, and the next day I let out a huge sigh of relief when there he is at 11:30 just like he promised, wearing a smile when Jason leads me into the room. He stands up to greet me, and damn he looks good. Even better than I remember, because it was definitely the last thing on my mind when he finally showed up last night. I mean, he looks the same as he always did, but he's so
different
at the same time.

Maybe because it's been so long, or maybe I just see him differently now. But that same energy is buzzing between us...or maybe it's just me...shit, I hope he still feels it too though. Maybe it's excitement...no, no I know that can't be it. But whatever it is, it's there, it's in my fingers and toes and it makes my stomach flip up into my throat. God, I've missed him.

His eyes look tired but his smile lights up his face when I step toward him. He looks over my shoulder uneasily at Jason still standing in the doorway behind me, and when I turn to give him a glance he disappears down the hall.

I turn back to Lex and he grins at me nervously, shifting his weight awkwardly as his gaze drops to the floor for a moment, his voice low. "I'm sorry about last night." My shoulders slump with my sigh, and his eyes meet mine again and he gives me a weak smile as he gestures to the small table in the room boasting his gifts of apology. "I brought you lunch." And I just grin at him.

His smile brightens with mine and we both laugh a little as he finally takes me into his arms. He holds me strong and tight and I instantly relax into him; I let him hold me and I never want him to let me go. God, this is what I needed. I still fucking
need
him, he still makes me feel weak, and it scares me a little. After all this time, this is the part of the addiction that I haven't let go of. I'm hooked on him more than any drug we ever tried.

He holds me out at arms length for a moment, grinning as he takes me in slowly. "God, you look so fucking good. Seriously...you look
really
good. And rested...you don't look tired at all." He hugs me back against his body, and I bury my face in his chest, holding him so tight, just wanting to
be
him, wanting to be inside of him, under his skin.

"Damn, this is what I've been waiting for," I breathe against his shoulder. I feel him relax as he sighs into my neck, and chills rush over my skin and I grip him tighter.
God, how is it possible to need somebody so fucking much?

"So, how have you been? How are things here?" he asks as he releases me and we take a seat side by side, still grinning our asses off at each other. I'm fucking giddy just to be around him again. I feel like myself again. He's the one person I can just...be myself with. I forgot how much that means until I got here with all of these strangers, people who don't know me from anyone else, people who want me to change...not just get clean, but
change
. But with him, I never feel like I have to change, or hide parts of me, or play up other parts of who I am. He just...takes me. Accepts me. Sometimes I forget how much I need that.

"I'm good! Things are fine. We're like...on a schedule, and I thought I wouldn't like it, but it's kinda cool. It kinda keeps my mind from wandering, you know," I ramble, unwrapping my burger like a fucking kid on Christmas morning, tearing into the paper almost desperately.

He laughs at my eagerness, but plays on my words as he raises an eyebrow at me and lowers his voice, leaning in to me with a smirk until his chin is almost on my shoulder. "Well...where does it wander?"

"Lex..." There's a warning tone in my voice, but I can't help but giggle, my face pinkening a bit and he chuckles, sliding his hand across my back in a comforting gesture as he sits up straight again. I'm hopeful, in this moment I'm hopeful as we grin at each other that things will be this way from now on. No more fights, just little grins and jokes...maybe he's come to realize that things can change now, that things are changing and it's ok. Maybe he
wants
to change.

"I'm just fucking with you. How's the food?"

But you would think he'd be able to tell by the way I'm wolfing it down, as if I'm starved. It's like elementary school when you're on a school lunch program but then your teacher orders pizza for the class. Real food. God, it's like I can't take big enough bites, I want my mouth completely full.

"It's good, so damn good," I can barely breathe out the words as I eat ravenously, trying not to talk with my mouth full, but eating like I'm afraid someone is going to take this away from me or something.

"Damn girl, they don't feed you in here?" His eyes widen at me a bit as he watches me.

I pause for a moment, almost having trouble swallowing the large bites I'm taking, and when he laughs I pout at him a bit. "You know this shit is my favorite!" And he just grins.

"Yeah, you know I always give you the good shit," he quips, shoving a french fry in his mouth and I tense up. I know he didn't mean it like I heard it, but it strikes a fucking nerve in me. My sunny disposition drops instantly, my posture slumping and my face falls noticeably and I know he can tell now as he reaches out to put his large hand on my shoulder.

"C'mon Leala, I didn't mean that..."

But instead of being understanding, I snap for some reason. The one thing I thought he wouldn't even have the guts to mention, much less
joke
about...God, I feel sick to my stomach.

"Tell me why you don't wanna get clean, Lex." I set my jaw and drop my focus to the table. I hate to do this to him, but it's eating me up inside.

He groans, rubbing that same hand across his face as he lets his head fall back. "Don't do this shit to me."

I turn to him almost pleadingly. "Just tell me, what do you have to lose?" I don't want to fight with him. Maybe we can just talk things out. Maybe he'll hear me out for once.

"A lot," he answers matter-of-factly, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

I scoff. "Oh yeah? Some money? Power? Friends? Maybe your truck and your house...your expensive lifestyle? Fuck, Lex...that can all be gone in an instant. Think of what you'll lose if you don't get clean."

"What? Why don't you just tell me," he offers obstinately, rolling his eyes and rage seeps out from every pore in my body. Not rage...maybe hurt is a better term. I'm hurt that he still doesn't give a shit about being clean, while I've been in here busting my ass.

"Your health...your family...your chance to be happy..."

"I
am
fucking happy!" he growls, cutting me off, but I snap back at him instantly, pushing my chair back from him, maybe to keep myself from doing something stupid like hitting him.

"No, you
think
you are. It's fake, Lex. Don't you fucking get it? Your emotions aren't real...you can't feel shit, not the way you should..." He rolls his eyes again, but I continue, knowing my next words will get to him. "I couldn't either..."

He snaps, just as expected, pointing a finger in my face, his hand trembling with contained rage. "Don't do this. Don't play the fucking blame game."

I pause and stare at him menacingly, but with sincerity. I set my jaw tight but I'm trembling on the inside, just moments from crying because it's so damn frustrating that things have to be this way. They don't have to be...but they still fucking are. I'm different, I'm trying to be, I really am. But
he's
not...and
we
aren't...and it kills me. Why he won't just fucking hear me out I'll never understand.

"Think about it, Lex...everything you have right now from being an addict can all be put onto a table in front of you...and it can all be taken away! What do you have when it's gone, Lex?! What do you fucking have!?"

"I'm not listening to any more of this shit." He pushes himself up from his chair and starts to cross the room, but I call after him quickly.

"You're
scared
, Lex...admit it."

And he turns abruptly at my words, blue eyes staring at me so intently I feel like they could almost suck the life from me. "No, I'm not scared of
nothing
," he grinds out the words slowly, and there's an extended moment of tense silence, both of us looking each other deep in the eyes, challenging each other. This is what we do best...we fight. But I'm beyond that right now. I know this is no way for us to exist, I've learned that. It can't be this way forever, or we'll never make it. I can't fucking take it anymore. He has to
change
. Something
has
to change. I finally sigh.

"Being scared doesn't make you weak...being too proud to ask for help does."

He scoffs, twisting up his face in disgust. "Glad to know all that therapy is doing you good. You sound like a certified quack now. You were just like me, remember? Don't act like you're too good, like you don't know who I am or where I'm coming from."

His words hurt, but they ring true. It's hard to think...but I used to be just like him. I thought I was fine. I mean I knew I had a problem with the drugs, but I always thought I could get through it, that it wasn't in control of me, that I was the one in control. Everything was always fine. I was always fine. And I know he's hopeless for now. Until something in him snaps like it did in me. There's no telling him until he just figures it out for himself. I hope he figures it out...before it's too late.

I sigh, defeated. "It was good to see you, Lex."

He shakes his head, my words of dismissal piercing him, visibly deflating him as he slumps and sighs, nodding. "Yeah...real fucking great to see ya," he mutters sarcastically, and turns to leave.

And just like that...it's over.

I storm down the hall to my room and tear through the door, pacing over to the bed and I throw my pillow over against the wall, revealing the navy blue material wadded up beneath it, hiding there for my comfort when I sleep at night. I furiously stuff it into a ball between my hands and cross the room, pulling open my bottom dresser drawer and shoving it into the back beneath my other clothes.

I want to forget it. I want to forget
him
. I thought this would be easier if I could see him again...

But I'm starting to wonder if doing this with him is harder than doing it without him.

_______________________________________________________________

After my fight with Lex, sitting in therapy with Sophia, my counselor, I'm just over it. I'm over all of this shit. Nothing is going to change. Sure, I'll get clean, but I'll get out of here and it'll be the same shit all over again. We were supposed to do this together...he was supposed to give a shit. Now it's just...it's fucked. It's all so fucked up.

She peers at her notes inside the folder in her lap. "So tell me more about this...Lex." And that statement does not make matters any fucking better right now.

I exhale audibly at his name on her lips, not wanting to talk about him, especially after this afternoon. It's bad enough that he's the only thing I think about, but lately I feel like he's all I talk about too...isn't this whole process supposed to be about
me?
I pull my knees up to my chest in a gesture to protect myself, to shield myself. "Aren't we supposed to talk about drugs and getting sober and shit-sorry-stuff?"

"Well, I know you saw him today, and I know he's been an issue for you since you've been here. I just wanna check on things. I mean, he
is
your dealer," she argues and I release my feet back down to the floor with a defeated sigh.

"Yeah...he's...my dealer," I offer simply. I'm guilt-stricken at the thought of reducing our relationship to a single term, but she could never begin to understand what he really is to me.

"Forgive me, but I can't seem to understand how you can have such deep-seated issues with a man who is merely your drug dealer," she states matter-of-factly, and I know she's calling my bluff, so I put my guard up. I come out ready to fight, that's what I've learned to do. I shift my jaw to the side, tongue running along the inside of my mouth before clicking against my teeth as I stare at her coldly.

"Its...complicated." I raise my eyebrows in a challenge and purse my lips. She purses her own lips, nodding in acceptance at my refusal to just give her a fucking break, and I know she's frustrated as hell with me, but this is her job. She's determined to get this out of me, if we have to sit here all night until I break.

"Tell me more..."

"He's tall...thin...blue eyes..." I muse lightly, but my tone intentionally reeks of disinterest. I trail off, my focus turning elsewhere in the room, and I turn my eyes back to her when she huffs out a perturbed sigh. I don't mean to be this way, but it's just so fucking hard for me to talk about it still, even after spending over a month trying to tell her about my feelings. The words just aren't there. Shit, I don't know if they ever will be.

"You know that's not what I'm asking you." She gives me a pointed look and shakes her head at me, seeing right past my smartass bullshit.

I sigh. "I don't know what else to tell you," I answer shortly with a shrug.

She leans forward on her desk, eyes soft and sympathetic, and I'm still not used to that look yet. Just that look of...understanding...caring...it breaks me down, wrenching my insides every time, painfully trying to twist my heart into spilling itself like water being wrung from a bathcloth.

"You're a smart girl, Leala...I know. I've read your excerpts from your writing classes, that's where my concern is. I think you understand all of this a lot better than you're leading on."

I groan. I have to admit that I've become quite the writer since I got to this place. I always used to write, just for fun, but here it's...a release. It's a way to get emotions out without talking. I'm not much of a talker, I tend to stumble and never know just what to say. But give me some paper and I'll write you a hell of a story.

"Look this is just...its hard. It's hard being away from him."

"Just tell me what he is to you," she pleads, still giving me that look, and there's a moment of silence, and I know it's coming. I tense up inside, but what is the fucking sense in hiding from it? The sooner I get this out, maybe things will get better. Maybe this is where healing has to begin. Just face it, head on.