And then she’s in his room.
When her eyes find her son, the wind goes out of her. We’re all still, staring at him barely conscious. Greg and Becca hover at the doorway.
And then she’s a flurry of motion, pushing past me. “Braden?” She strokes his face, and I wish my fingers were hers. His eyelids flutter. She looks at me. “What happened?”
I take a halting breath. “He was like this when we got here. I think he…” I can’t bring myself to use the word overdose. “I think he took too much of the medication.”
“That’s ridiculous. He sees the best sports medicine doctor in the state. He probably just practiced too hard and didn’t eat enough. It’s happened before.” She turns to him. “Braden?”
His weight shifts. “Mom?” a groggy voice asks.
The fist around my heart loosens. He spoke.
“You’re okay, honey,” Mrs. Roberts soothes. Then she continues, looking at me, “Hadley, I don’t understand. Braden would never do anything to risk his scholarships. He’s never…he’s never done anything like this before.”
I clench my jaw, trying desperately to focus my wild emotions. “He has.”
“What?”
“You’re right, he would do anything to keep swimming,” I say. “Even take those horrible pills for way too long.” Saying it out loud feels like betrayal and relief tangled together.
Something in her expression cracks. She glances at Braden, who is still deeply out of it.
“I wish it wasn’t true. So bad. I tried to—” I nearly choke. “He’s taking more than he’s supposed to. He has been.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
I glance at Ty. His eyes are steady. I wish any part of me felt steady. I hold on to a simple fact: Braden needs help. He needs his parents. How can I make her understand?
And then it hits me.
I give her the ugly truth, unmistakable: “He is. And I know, because I gave it to him.”
Everyone except for Tyler gapes at me.
I wipe at a tear falling down my cheek. “My mom had the same medication. Braden came over, and he was in a lot of pain. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t understand—” Emotion gets the better of me, and I’m unable to finish the thought. “I don’t think I’m the only one, but I may have started it.”
Sirens wail in the distance.
Mrs. Roberts’s words are barely contained rage. “Get out. Get out of my house—right now.”
“You have to tell them what happened. And that we gave him naloxone,” I tell her.
“Now. Or I’m calling the police.”
I steal a glance at my boyfriend. His eyes are open, but he looks lost. Scared. Leaving him in that room nearly tears my heart in two, but I do it.
* * *
When I get home, Remy’s waiting for me in the driveway. I slam Becca’s car door closed. She must have told my sister what happened, but she pulls the car away before I can say anything.
“Hadley,” Remy starts, “are you okay?”
“I can’t do this right now.”
“Becca said something about an OD. Calling nine-one-one? What the hell happened?”
I try to sidestep her to get into the house, but she blocks me. My chest tightens. “Let me through, Rem.”
“No. Not until you talk to me. How can Braden possibly be this bad and I know nothing about it?”
“Remy, I’m not doing this.” My insides are churning.
She scowls. “You don’t have a choice! You can’t let—”
“ ‘Let’?” I’m furious. “What part of this do you think I have control over?”
“I’m not saying you have control over it—”
“Obviously not! So what the hell am I supposed to do? What does my big sister suggest?” I sound so awful, and it’s satisfying.
“I’m saying, you control you,” Remy says, trying hard to be calm. “You tell somebody. You make him get help. Or you walk away, Hadley. You have to. If he won’t get help, you have to leave. He could pull you into this mess, too….He’ll hurt you, even if he doesn’t want to.”
“Really? You think this might hurt?” I shake my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. “And how would you know? Do you have experience with this?” I narrow my eyes. “I guess you have dated every asshole in town.”
“Hadley, come on.”
“You literally have no room to talk.”
“Maybe not. But I’m smart enough to know when something isn’t healthy anymore.”
“Oh really? Because I thought it was totally cool—superhealthy—walking into my boyfriend’s bedroom after he OD’d. I just thought that was all perfectly normal!” A sob fights its way through me. “Jesus, Remy. I’m the one who is constantly picking you back up when some random jerk fucks up. So can you give me just one minute to deal with this before you climb down my throat?”
The back door opens to the driveway, and Judd steps outside. “What the hell is going on? I can hear you two from the kitchen.”
Remy sighs and turns to our brother. “I can’t deal with you right now too. Just go back inside, Judd.”
“Jesus, Remy, can you let it go?”
Remy’s face flushes. “No! No, I can’t let it go that you’re just not going away to school.”
“What?” I ask.
“He’s deferring from Michigan State, going to take all his freshman classes right down the street. He doesn’t want to leave Mom before she finishes radiation. So now I’m the only asshole leaving.” Remy looks between me and Judd. “You know, I don’t know what the hell is going on with the two of you. When did everybody get so secretive?”
“Remy, believe it or not, not everything is actually about you!” Judd is frustrated; they’ve clearly had this argument before.
I can’t cope with this news right now; my head’s spinning and I’m starting to feel sick. “If the two of you want to fight, can you at least let me go inside?”
“You’re not going anywhere, Hadley,” Remy says.
“You can’t tell her what to do, Remy.”
I move past her, and Remy says, “I might not choose perfect guys, Hadley, but I’ve never dated anybody who did what Braden did today.”
I turn to her. “No, the guys you date do totally wholesome things like cheat.”
“Jesus, Hadley. This is serious. You can’t just walk away from me and pretend everything is okay. He needs help. And you need to figure out what you’re going to do.”
Suddenly I can’t take her criticizing him anymore, and I’m yelling, “He’s trying to get a scholarship! His coach, his parents, they all expect—” I know I’m making excuses, but it doesn’t make any of it less true. “He’s doing his best. It’s not his fault—”
Remy’s quiet. “Do you even hear yourself?”
“Hear what?”
She shakes her head. “You sound like one of the people Mom works with. Those women who let men walk all over them.”
“Remy!” Judd says.
Her words nearly knock me over.
This is nothing like that.
I can’t listen to her for another second. “Fuck you, Remy.”
Then I turn, open the door, and in private, crumble into a million pieces.
Ring.
Braden’s name appears on my screen. It’s been two days of worrying myself sick. I’m so desperate to answer that I nearly drop my phone. “Braden?”
“Hadley, I’m in your driveway. Will you come out?”
“I’ll be right there.”
As quickly as I can, I make my way outside, concrete warm on my bare feet. When I see him standing there next to his car, looking healthy and whole, my heart fuses itself back together. I throw myself onto him, around him, pulling him as close as I can. He clasps his arms around me.
&nbs
p; “You’re okay,” I say around the lump in my throat.
“I’m so sorry,” he replies.
“I called you a million times.”
“I know.” He’s touching my face. “My mom just gave me back my phone. I’m not supposed to be here, but—”
“I’m so glad you are.”
His eyes fill. “You saved my life, Hadley.”
“No, I—”
“You did.” He presses his fingers behind my ear, pulling my forehead to his. Our tears are a salty mess on each other’s faces. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I honestly didn’t think—”
“It’s okay,” I manage.
“No, it isn’t.”
I nod, tears falling freely now. “You’re right….It isn’t. Braden, you scared me so bad.”
“I scared myself too.”
“Did they take you to the hospital? How long were you there?” I can’t stop touching him, making sure he’s okay.
“Overnight. I’m okay. I really am.”
“You had to stay overnight?” My heart fractures again.
“Just for observation.”
I take a shaky breath. “God. I’m so mad at you, Braden. I’m so mad that I don’t even know what to—”
He pulls me into him. “I don’t blame you.”
For a while, I just take in his solid weight. His arms, strong and sturdy around me, the familiar way I have to stand on my toes to reach around his shoulders, the way he rubs my back, in looping, comforting circles.
“I’m so sorry about Stanford.”
He pulls away. “What?”
“Well, I mean…you’re getting the surgery now, right? You obviously can’t stay on those pills.”
He takes a step backward. “Hadley—”
Memories of that morning flash through my mind. “I saw the bottle, Brade. Logan’s.”
He bites his lip. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have taken it.”
“This isn’t okay. I thought you were—” I swallow the words: going to die.
Braden shakes his head. “I really didn’t think those meds were a big deal. They were just left over from Logan getting his wisdom teeth out. He was trying to help, because I ran out and my times would have bombed.”
“The same way I was trying to help?”
He looks at me like he’s being torn open.
And suddenly my feelings are tied in knots. I’m overcome with relief he’s okay, but I can’t forget how many lies he’s told, can’t forget how angry I am that he got himself into this mess. How angry I am at myself.
“You can’t keep putting people in this position, Braden.”
He tenses. “What? I never asked anybody—”
“I know.” I rub at my face. “Honestly, that’s not even the point. I just can’t believe how bad it’s gotten. I’ve been making myself sick over the stuff I gave you. And your mom. Oh my god, your mom. She’s so mad. She kicked me out of your house.”
“I’ll deal with my mom.” He pulls me into him again, and I slide my hands all the way around his body.
Something crinkles in his pocket.
He jerks away, but not fast enough.
And then I’m holding a bag of pills in my hand.
“I can explain—” he objects.
I look down at the bag. “Did you just stand there apologizing to me while you had these in your fucking pocket?”
“Hadley—”
“I had to call nine-one-one two days ago, Braden! How can—”
“It was just in case of an emergency. You don’t know what it feels like, getting off those—”
“Are you on that shit right now?” I can hardly speak quickly enough. “How did you even get this?”
His eyes focus on something off in the distance. “It was just sitting in my room.”
“What? The pills?” But I know that’s not what he means. Dread engulfs me, tangible as the weather.
He steps closer, urgency taking over. “I lost my job, you know? And I…I needed money. But I’m going to get you a better one! I am. I’m going to get a new job, and I already looked up the model. Here…” He reaches for his phone, but I ignore it.
I take in a shaking breath. “You sold my camera?”
“I’m so sorry, this is—”
The truth hits me right between the eyes. “You sold my camera.” I search him over, wondering how such a familiar face could hide such horrible secrets. “You sold my camera for drug money.” The words weigh a million pounds, so heavy I’m afraid they’re going to fall through the concrete and drag me down with them.
“No. Hadley. Please. No, don’t say it like that.”
“It’s what you did, though, isn’t it? You sold my camera.” Anger rips through me. Everything we had, this hope inside me, it feels like it’s crumbling to pieces. “You know what that camera means to me. How could you—” My voice breaks. He reaches for me, but I rip away. “No. Don’t touch me.”
He drops his arms and keeps the space between us. “I love you. Hadley. And I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t even know…” His eyes are full of tears. “You have to forgive me. You have to. I need you.”
“I want to be there for you, Braden. I do. But I can’t do this if you don’t stop. I don’t know how to live like this.” The air feels too thin to bring into my lungs. “It’s almost killing you—it feels like it’s almost killing me too. I don’t know—”
He reaches for me, but again, I step out of his grasp.
I continue, “Tell me you’re having the surgery. Tell me you’re getting off the painkillers. Tell me you’re not going to keep putting your life at risk for a college scholarship.”
“It’s just three more months, Hadley. I can’t give up now. I’ve worked my whole life. I need you to understand. And I know my limits. I know what I did wrong. I’m not going to—”
A sob breaks free. “I can’t do this. I can’t.” And then I find myself saying, “You have to choose.”
He looks like I punched him in the gut. “What?”
I’m starting to panic. “You have so many options. You don’t need to go to Stanford. Just get the surgery, recover, keep trying for Michigan. Or take a break from swimming altogether. Anything, Braden, anything but this. You’re going to…I can’t do this.”
His expression is agonized. “Do you even understand what you’re asking? Give up the best program in the country, right as I’m about to get it? How can you ask that? You know how hard I work.”
I look at him. At his hazel eyes, cropped hair, full lips. At the face I love most in the world. And then I picture him lifeless on the floor. “Braden, how can I not ask?”
And then I’m crying in earnest, because I know him—through and through—and I know what he’s going to do. Braden Roberts wants to stand on the top podium at the Olympics. He can’t walk away from a challenge, no matter what. Not even if it kills him.
“Hadley…” It’s there, that single-minded drive, written all over his face. “Please don’t make me do this.”
“God, Braden. Please don’t make me.”
It’s only a few seconds. Two people, standing so close, but somehow too far to reach each other.
And then he says, “I have to try for Stanford, Hadley. I have to. But I promise, I’ll be so careful. I won’t let anything happen, not like that. I won’t—”
And then it’s real. He made his choice.
And it isn’t me.
It’s a stab in the heart.
I force myself to say, “Then I need you to go.”
His eyes harden. “No. Hadley—”
I feel so betrayed, I can’t think straight. “I can’t keep having this fight. I won’t watch you destroy yourself.”
It’s quiet for a beat. “If I leave, it’s over,” he says.
“I know,” I manage.
I want to beg him to change his mind. I want to pull him into me and keep him there, safe, forever. But I can’t. And I can’t wonder every time I talk to him if he’s lying, or every time he misses my call, if he’s in trouble. I can’t live like this. And if it’s not what he wants, I can’t make him want it.
“Hadley, this is a mistake. You’re making a horrible mistake.”
I can hardly speak, emotion thick in my throat. “Maybe.”
He grabs my hands. “So take it back. Just change your mind.”
I force myself to say the hard truth. “I can’t.” I look at him. “Can you?”
He sighs, halting and heavy. And then he shakes his head.
“Then you need to go.”
“Hadley—”
But I don’t have anything left to say, and I’m afraid I’ll lose all resolve if I keep looking at him. So I walk into the house, shut the door behind me, and lock it.
* * *
My heart rate is still elevated an hour later when my phone rings. This time, Mrs. Roberts’s name lights up my screen.
Why is she calling me? “Hello?”
Her voice is tight. “Hadley?”
“Yeah?”
I hear her exhale. “Oh, god. I don’t know how to tell you this….”
My heart skips a beat.
“Braden was in an accident.”
“What?” The floor falls out from under me.
“He ran a light on a left turn. He”—she pauses to regain herself—“flipped the car.”
“Oh my god.” A nauseous wave fills my gut. I choke out the words “Is he okay?”
“It’s serious. We’re waiting in the emergency room.”
My thoughts start to spiral.
I force myself to speak. “I’m so sorry. I should have…Oh my god. What’s going to happen?”
“We’re still finding out. But he broke some ribs and pierced one of his lungs.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Actually, Hadley…I’m sorry. But I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her voice is resolved. “I wanted you to hear it from us, but Braden won’t be having any visitors. He’s not conscious, but even if he were, we need to work this out as a family. Get it under control. Please respect our wishes. Braden doesn’t need any outside influences right now. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
Coming Up for Air Page 22