But I knew if I didn’t give him what he wanted, Landon was the one who would suffer. Some days, the guilt of how I was living my life threatened to eat me alive—except for when I was doped up or asleep.

Then life was good.

“Tell him to go fuck himself,” I replied, zoning out on the television again.

“What is wrong with you, Maxx? You’re never around anymore. I can’t ever get you on the phone. You don’t come and get me for dinner on Fridays anymore. I had that huge test in biology last week, and you haven’t even asked about it. And David is being an even bigger douche than normal. He keeps yelling about how you were supposed to bring this month’s money two weeks ago. You promised me you’d make this right, Maxx. You freaking promised!” Landon’s voice rose, and I knew he was upset. My brain registered the fact that this should bother me, that I loved my brother and he was my responsibility.

Shit. He was my responsibility. I had obligations.

My chest tightened, and I felt panic struggling against the drugs in my system.

I clenched my fist and dug the heel of my hand into my eye socket. I couldn’t breathe.

What the hell was my problem? Why was I doing this shit?

But I needed it, so fucking badly. I was tired. I was exhausted. I didn’t want to be relied on because I couldn’t be anything anyone needed, particularly my sixteen-year-old brother.

“Maxx?” Landon’s voice came through the phone. He sounded worried. He should be worried. I was losing my shit.

“Maxx?” he said again.

“I’ll be over tomorrow. Tell David I’ll bring him the money then. I’ll take you to get some new clothes too, all right?” I said finally, after I was able to focus again.

I heard Landon sigh in relief. “Awesome. I’ll tell him. See you then,” he said, and I hung up the phone and closed my eyes.

The television flickered against my eyelids, and I wasn’t nearly high enough to deal with this crap.

I pulled the baggie out of my pocket.

Just one more and it would be better.

That’s all it ever took.

Just. One. More.

I had passed out again and slept off most of my high. When I woke up, it was dark out and I was finally hungry. I got up off the couch and made my way into the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator, but there was nothing inside but a bottle of milk that had expired a week ago. Damn, when was the last time I had been to the grocery store?

My stomach rumbled, and I searched the cabinets, finally finding a box of stale crackers. I ate a handful and made my way to the bathroom. Having food in my stomach made me feel a little better, but I was still sluggish and sick.

I thought about the baggie of pills sitting on the coffee table—drugs I’m supposed to be selling or I’ll have to answer for it later.

I had to get it together. I had somewhere I needed to be.

I needed to shower and then get my ass over to campus for the support group. It was time to be the other Maxx—confident Maxx, the Maxx others listened to.

I liked that Maxx. He’s the one I wished I could be all the time. The one who was untouchable. I got off on being respected and wanted. I knew the way people looked at me, and I fucking loved it. In the group, at the club, I was a guy that mattered. I was a guy with power and control. I was a guy who knew what he wanted and took it.

The person I was in this apartment when I was alone disgusted me. His insecurity, his self-doubt, his guilt and shame were repulsive. I hated him. I wished I would never have to be him again. But he was always there, waiting to take me down.

In the harsh light of sobriety, he was the pathetic man who looked back at me in the mirror. He was everything I didn’t want to be. He was the sum of all of my failures. It’s what defined him.

That’s not the person I wanted anyone to see, let alone the woman I was becoming dangerously consumed by.

Aubrey.

She made it so easy to pretend that all of those other versions of Maxx didn’t exist, that I was just one person, with just one life, that I wasn’t hiding a million secrets. I was just a guy who liked a girl who just maybe liked me back.

Being with her, touching her, kissing her, had the power to undo everything. I felt her unraveling me every time we were together. She had a way of making me forget. She was an escape more dangerous than any fucking drug.

I had an addictive personality, and I craved, I desired, I needed.

Her.

Knowing I’d see her tonight made me move a little faster. I stopped obsessing about the pills on the coffee table, and all I could see, all I could think about, was her long blond hair and the way her lips had tasted.

When I had been with her at the movie theater, I never wanted to leave. I wanted to disappear inside her forever.

But I couldn’t handle disappointing her. I was already a failure in every other part of my life. Failing Aubrey had seemed like the worst thing I could do. Despite how drawn I was to her and how easy it would be to fall into normal with her, I couldn’t let myself indulge in it.

That wasn’t the life I was living.

It wasn’t the life I deserved.

So I had left her.

And I had gone straight to the other woman in my life, the one who would never let me go. She was a jealous bitch, and when I was with Aubrey I didn’t give her the attention she required.

Addiction was messy. It was consuming.

Addiction whispered in your ear, telling you that she’s the only one. She’s all you need.

It was easy to not think about Aubrey when I was high.

If addiction was consuming, so was lust. And desire.

Being with Aubrey had the potential to eradicate that other Maxx completely.

But I couldn’t let him go. I needed him.

And I was scared that the day would come when I would need Aubrey just as badly.

It would be a fight to the death.

And it was a fight that I didn’t think I could win.

aubrey

maxx was late for support group. I felt his eyes on me as he took his seat, but I refused to look his way. Every time I thought of him, all I could see was last weekend at Compulsion. Him selling drugs. Him taking drugs. Him allowing some slutty chick to rub up against him. Why is it that that seemed like the biggest betrayal? I was so stupid.

He is bad news. I had chanted that mantra in my head a thousand times a day since I’d made my unfortunate discovery. I tried really hard not to obsess about how easy it was for me to believe the lies he sold me. Even as I swore I wouldn’t fall for his act, that’s exactly what I had done.

I wasn’t sure if I was more disappointed with Maxx and his inability to be honest and forthright, or with my own gullibility for thinking that, somehow, I was the lucky girl who got to see the broken boy beneath the hard exterior. I felt angry and hurt, and I wasn’t sure how to cope with it. For someone who had spent a long time bottling up every emotion, feeling something so intensely was crippling.

The image of him hawking his drugs was intricately intertwined with the memory of kissing him. And touching him. And sharing secrets with him that I purposefully had kept deeply buried.

Damn him!

I spoke very little in group, sticking to the agreement I’d made with Dr. Lowell. However, that didn’t stop the rest of the group members from watching me like I was going to flip out again at any moment. Most of them seemed almost excited by the possibility.

I made notes and did my best to wear my professional, no-nonsense face. I listened when people were talking, nodding as if their one-word answers were the most profound statements I had ever heard.

Maxx did not get my attention, even though I knew he wanted it. He was his normal charismatic, energy-sucking self. But I wouldn’t allow myself to respond to him in any way, not even when he made a rather pointed remark meant for me alone.