If I Fall

by Amber Thielman

  “Thank you for being here,” I said, and looked over at Jay. “Both of you.”

  I pulled away from Ty and refilled my water glass. My stomach was in knots, and water spilled over the top of my glass as my hands shook. Jay and Ty sipped their drinks and watched me, but their expressions were neutral and hard to read. I rinsed out my glass in the sink and ran my hand through my hair. My mouth tasted bad of vomit and old booze.

  “Do I get to go home now?” I asked. I feared to hear the answer. I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home so badly. I needed a hot shower and something decent to eat. And yet, at the same time, I was terrified to go, not confident that I could be by myself and still be okay.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jay said after a long silence. “Do you think it’s going to be as easy as that?”

  “That’s your definition of easy?” I felt compelled once again to punch him in the nose, but I resisted the urge. I knew he was only trying to help, and I wouldn’t do good to push away the only friend I had left who wasn’t an addict. On the coffee table, my phone started to ring. I crossed the floor to answer it, not caring who it was. I needed the distraction.

  “Khloe?” It was Ava.

  “Hey.” I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder, throwing clothes into a bag so I could go home. If Jay was giving me that option, I would take it, and Ty didn’t have a say one way or the other. I was strong. I could do it. “What’s up?”

  “I was released,” Ava said. “Just now.” She sounded distracted as though she’d hesitated even calling me.

  “From the hospital?”

  “No, Khloe, from the fiery gates of hell.”

  “Okay.” I straightened up and looked at Ty. He was still watching me, his expression void of emotion. He was good. I wished I knew what he was thinking. Jay had already moved on to the breakfast cereal, and I knew he had to be at work in just a few hours.

  “I need a ride,” Ava said. “I don’t have anyone to come to get me.” I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the time.

  “Give me fifteen minutes,” I said. “I’ll pick you up.” I had barely hung up the phone before Ty was by my side, retrieving his car keys from his pocket.

  “I’ll come with you,” he said.

  “No, it’s all right,” I argued. “I’m fine to drive.”

  “Either Ty goes with you, or you stay here,” Jay called from the kitchen. Scowling, I shrugged on my jacket and gave Ty a halfhearted shrug. He was now my crutch when Jay couldn’t be. I knew I couldn’t do it without them, even if I wanted to. My legs weren’t strong enough.

  Not yet.

  “Why is he here?” Ava poked her head into the passenger window and glared at Ty. Then she glared at me. “Really, Khloe?”

  “He’s helping,” I said. Ty leaned over me and flashed Ava a smile.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m helping.”

  Rolling her eyes, Ava slid into the back seat of Ty’s car, arms folded in a pout. As I turned around to greet her, I was pleasantly surprised to notice how much better she looked since the night she’d been admitted. Her black hair was down around her shoulders, and it shined with a healthy glow. Her skin had cleared up, eyes vivid and bright instead of bloodshot. She had gained a bit of weight, but she looked healthier. Better.

  “You look really good,” I said. “The hospital stay helped.”

  “Yeah, well, I feel like shit.” She looked pointedly at Ty when she said that as if laying blame on the paramedic who had to bring her in. “I need a fucking drink.”

  “No, you don’t,” I said, and she glared at me next.

  “I need a drink and a hit,” she said. In the seat next to me, Ty’s expression didn’t change, but I could see his hands tense up over the wheel. The scene from the last two nights played over in my head—the pain, the terror, the vomiting in the kitchen sink and all over Jay’s rug. I suddenly felt sick all over again.

  “Ava.” I took a deep breath, praying I wouldn’t cause a fight. I didn’t have the energy to fight with her, not today. “Do you think it’s a good idea to get back on drugs and booze?” I asked. My friend looked at me, her eyebrows shooting straight up as if I’d just sprouted two heads.

  “Yes,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I do.”

  I pulled my head back and turned around, meeting Ty’s eyes. He said nothing, encouraging me to handle it myself, but I wasn’t sure I could. The last two nights had been miserable, painful, and a nightmare. And yet, more than anything, I, too, wanted to buy a bottle of vodka and get wasted. Desperately.

  “Look, Ava.” I turned back around in the seat to face her, overwhelmed and unsure of how to continue from here. She was looking at me expectantly, dabbing on some pink lip gloss, completely oblivious to the one thing that could ultimately destroy her. “I spent the last few nights at Jay’s,” I said. Ava’s eyes flickered from my face to Ty’s, her brow furrowing in confusion.

  “But, um… isn’t he, like, gay?”

  “That’s not what I was getting at,” I said, flustered. “I spent those nights at his place so I could detox as you did in the hospital.”

  “Oh, God.” She twisted the cap back onto her gloss and stared at me. “Why would you subject yourself to that?”

  “To get clean,” I answered. “Why else?”

  “Yeah,” Ava said. “But why?”

  “Probably to get control of her life back,” said Ty. I let out a breath of relief, wondering, if anything, that she would at least hear him out. After all, he’d been the one who had to keep her breathing the night of the overdose.

  “That’s exactly why,” I murmured. There was a moment of silence, like standing in a high school hallway sizing up your opponent before a big fight. Ava was staring at Ty with a look that screamed I will shank you in your sleep. I cleared my throat, and she shot me the same look.

  “Who in the hell is this guy who thinks he can come in here and fix us?” Ava asked.

  “I picked you up off the floor after you overdosed on drugs,” Ty said. “Khloe had to start your heart again, Ava.” He sounded irritated now, and I couldn’t blame him. I was, too.

  “He’s not trying to fix us,” I said quickly. “He’s trying to help us.”

  “I can’t fix what’s not broken,” Ty said. His tone was calmer now, more patient. He watched her in the mirror, but Ava was scowling. “I just didn’t want to see either if you hurt or killed.”

  “Oh, please.” Still glaring at me, she shoved her cosmetics into her purse and rested her fingers on the door handle. “You can let me out here,” she said. “I don’t need this bullshit.”

  “Ava,” I pleaded. “Don’t leave. He just wants to help. I want to help you.”

  “I don’t need your help, perra!” Ava shouted. It took me a moment to realize that Ty was slowing the car.

  “What are you doing?” I cried, spinning toward him. “You can’t let her out here.”

  “I have to,” he said. “She wants to go.”

  “You didn’t let me go!” I shrieked. As the car rolled to a stop, Ava shoved open the door and got out, practically fuming from the ears.

  “You wanted help from Jay and me, Khloe. Ava doesn’t.” Ty squeezed my shoulder. His expression was somber, but I wanted to smack him for giving up so easily. Instead of hitting him, I shrugged his hand off and turned back toward the window.

  “Ava, please!” I called. “Just let us help you.”

  “Púdrete!” Ava shouted. “Screw you, Khloe.” She stormed off, her pace never slowing, until she turned the corner and was out of sight. For a moment, I considered going after her, maybe tackling her, but I didn’t. I was frozen to the seat, shocked, wondering where, during that conversation, it had gone so wrong. Ty and I watched her go, silent as we listened to the cars zoom past us on the road.

  “She’s fun,” he said finally. “Like a firecracker.”

  “Or a fuckin
g rocket launcher,” I muttered. Ty looked over at me and grinned. I couldn’t resist smiling back. For a moment, we sat in the still silence of the car, not speaking, only being.

  “I’m afraid,” I said finally. “I’m afraid of going after Ava because I’m afraid of what I might do.” I hesitated, closing my eyes as Ty pulled back out and joined the traffic on the road.

  “You’re afraid of the influence she’ll have on you?” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question. I hesitated but only briefly. It didn’t take much for him to be able to read me. I had come to find that out fairly quickly, even despite my hesitance to open up to him at all.

  “Yes,” I said. “Not just afraid, though. I’m terrified.”

  “Good,” Ty said and looked at me. “That means you’re doing it right.”

  November 1, 2017

  She’s determined. And driven. I just wish she could see in herself what I see in her. Maybe someday she will.

  I hoped that khloe would stay sober for Halloween. She didn’t. I spent most of the night fighting her to come home, prying the keys from her hands, being yelled at. She’s mean when she drinks. I’m worried she’ll do something rash one day. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.

  “He didn’t seem to care how it would feel to lose him.” I closed the journal resisting the urge to throw it and handed it to Jay, who set it down on the coffee table. Ty had brought me back to Jay’s place after our fiasco with Ava because I couldn’t bring myself to be home alone, and Ty had to go back to work. I knew if I let myself fall back into the black hole of self-pity and loathing, I’d head straight for the liquor store, and we’d be back at square one. I had come to realize that I didn’t want to put Jay or Ty through another night of withdrawals. I was afraid to lose them, scared that if they had to deal with me like that again, they would walk out of my life and never return. Then I’d really be screwed.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Jay asked. I sipped at my glass of soda, feeling the cool of the ice against my fingertips.

  “Do you have all day?” I said with a grin.

  “I do,” he said, and I found myself wanting to wrap my arms around him and never let go.

  “I’m worried,” I admitted. “I’m worried about losing you, and I’m worried about losing Ty.”

  “I don’t believe you’ll lose either of us,” Jay said. “That boy is smitten with you, Khloe. Coming here in the middle of the night to help through a crisis isn’t an easy feat for men. I speak from experience.”

  “He probably just felt obligated. I’m sure you do, too.”

  “Not obligated,” he said. “We just couldn’t not. Give us both a chance, okay? We won’t leave.”

  “I’ll try to keep you around forever,” I said with a slight grin. “I’m not so sure I’m ready for love, though. Ty deserves better than me.”

  “You don’t have to be ready for love,” Jay said. He leaned back into the couch and stretched his arms above his head. “You just have to be willing.”

  I sighed and rubbed my temples, trying to ward off a headache.

  “Do you think Ava is okay?” I asked. “She was awful quick getting away from us today.”

  “I think so.” He shrugged slightly. “I hope so.”

  “I wish she’d let us help.”

  “We can’t help somebody who doesn’t want it.” Jay looked pointedly at the journal on the table, and I felt a pain in my heart.

  “Maybe if Carter would have told somebody he was hurting, he’d still be here,” I said softly.

  “I don’t think he wanted to,” said Jay. “Some people are under the impression that not everything can be fixed. Some people think that they’re just in a dark, black hole that they can’t get out of. Ever.”

  “You don’t think that’s true?” I asked him. Jay’s gaze met mine.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you think everything can be fixed?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think so.” I sat back against the couch, pulling the quilt to my chin. “I think some people are lost in such darkness that the only way out is to end it all.”

  “There are doctors who can help,” Jay said. “And therapists. And medications. Not to mention friends and family.”

  “Not everyone has people in their corner,” I said. “Some people only have themselves.”

  “Good thing you’re not one of those people, then,” Jay said. He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “Ava’s not, either. She has you, she has me, and she even has Ty.”

  “I only wish she knew that.” I leaned back and closed my eyes, wishing I knew that everything would be okay. But I didn’t know. And Jay and Ty didn’t know. For all we knew, nothing would ever be okay again.

  It was seven in the morning when the buzz of my cell phone woke me from my awkward position on Jay’s couch. I opened one eye, grumbling, and pressed it to my ear.

  “Hullo?”

  “Khloe? It’s Frank.” There was a pause. “Your, uh, father.” I sat up, suddenly awake, pulling the phone away from my ear to look at the caller ID.

  “Hi,” I said. There was a long, drawn-out silence, and I thought for a moment that he’d hung up.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” Frank said finally. His voice sounded hoarse like he was coming down from a cold. Or a hangover.

  “Are you still in the hospital?” I asked.

  “No. I was released a few days ago.” More silence, and then, “I’m cleaning up, kid, and I was wondering if you’d like to have breakfast with me this morning. If you don’t have anything else going on, of course.” Jay came stumbling out of his bedroom, sleepy-eyed and dressed in boxers and a white tank top. He had kitty-cat slippers on his feet that meowed mechanically as he scuffed across the floor.

  “I guess we can go to breakfast,” I said to Frank. “But I’ll have someone with me.”

  “A boyfriend?” Frank asked. I smiled, thinking of Ty, but it was too early to bring that into the equation.

  “Not exactly.” I scribbled down the name of the restaurant and hung up the phone, suddenly feeling nervous. The last time Frank and I had sat down to a meal, he ended up throwing a glass of whiskey at the wall just before I heaved a dinner plate at his head. Since then, family dinners had become few and far in between as in, never.

  “Who was that, and what am I required to do?” Jay plopped down next to me on the couch, a cold pop tart in one hand and the television remote in the other. Gay or straight, they were all the same.

  “It was my dad,” I told him. “My crazy, alcoholic dad. He was in the hospital for a while after a car accident. He invited me to breakfast this morning.”

  “Are you comfortable going?” Jay asked.

  “I am if you go with me.” I smiled at him, and Jay’s eyebrows shot straight up.

  “I’m not so sure I…”

  “Carter would have done it,” I said, and Jay glared at me.

  “That’s a crotch shot. You have Ty. Take him.”

  “Ty is working,” I said. “I need you. Did the crotch shot work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” I took the pop tart from his hand, took a small bite, and tossed the rest in the trash. “Save your appetite.”

  As breakfast with Frank drew nearer, I found myself regretting agreeing to go. As we drove, Jay in the driver’s seat singing along to a Britney Spears’ song on the radio, I tried to recall the last time I’d seen Frank sober besides the night he’d been in the ER. I could think of nothing. I hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t be out of it. Was he sober? Could he sit through a meal in public with this long-lost daughter and act like a father? Or would the morning end with coffee mugs and syrup-clad plates being thrown at one another?

  “You okay?” Jay asked. He reached over and squeezed my hand, and at that moment, I realized how much he was truly starting to mean to me. It wasn’t a romantic relationship that I’d needed this whole time, I’d needed somebo
dy like Carter, someone who cared.

  “Thank you for being here,” I said. “If Carter were here, it would be him with me right now, and it’s still too early to bring Ty into this mess called my life.”

  “He might surprise you if you let him,” Jay said. “He looks at you the way I used to look at Carter.”

  “Let’s do one thing at a time,” I said, pushing thoughts of Ty from my mind. “Let’s see if I can survive this breakfast first.”

  Jay and I stepped into the diner, and I spotted Frank at once in a booth in the corner. He saw us and waved, and I had to make a genuine effort to keep from stumbling over myself as we went to sit down with him. A few times, I almost turned and ran, but I forced myself forward, facing it head-on.

  “Thanks for coming,” Frank said. “It’s good to see you, kid.” He glanced from me to Jay.

  “This is a friend of mine,” I said, flustered.

  “I’m Jay Thompson,” he said, saving me the humiliation of choking on my own words. Frank reached over the table to shake his hand as Jay scooted into the booth seat next to me.

  “Um. Boyfriend?” he asked.

  “No,” I said quickly. Jay smirked. “He’s just a friend.”

  “She’s taken,” Jay said, catching me off guard. “But her boy toy couldn’t be here today, so I’m filling in.” Flushing red, I pinched him under the table, content when his face wrinkled in pain.

  “Oh. Okay.” Frank ran a hand through his scraggly brown hair, and I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t look half bad today. His clothes looked clean, and his hair and teeth were brushed. There was a five ‘o clock shadow appearing on his face, but he smelled like soap. I realized that was the first time I’d seen him look human in years.

  “Are you guys ready to order?” the server asked, and I was relieved for the distraction.

  “It’s on me,” Frank said, looking between Jay and me. “Order whatever you like.”

  Once the food was ordered, the table fell into an awkward silence. I had no idea what to talk about, and neither did Frank. Jay, I noticed, was too enthralled with blowing bubbles in his glass of water to take notice. My father had never been the chattiest of people, even sober, and I’d taken after him in that department. My mother had saved us from awkward conversation starters. She’d been able to befriend anybody.