“Ironic.”
When I called Carson’s father from the beach house in Florida, we argued over his son for a good twenty minutes. He didn’t want to believe Carson needed help, but when the school told him the same, he reluctantly caved. I offered to pay for the treatment, but being the proud man he is, he refused. When the upper crust sends their kids to rehab, they don’t just send them anywhere. They send them to the best of the best. In fucking Malibu, of all places.
Carson’s rehab facility happens to be a couple of miles from the condo I bought my mother. I wonder if she ever came back here, and then I remember her shouting something at me from my doorstep before I left. I was so out of it I couldn’t be bothered to deal with her on top of everything else, but as I’m sitting here waiting for Carson, it pops into my head out of nowhere. She mentioned something about a letter.
Was it in my bag?I don’t recall seeing it, but I never really bothered to look for it either. How many ways could she ask me for money? It didn’t matter if her message was through text, mail, or blood. It was all the same.
Carson appears on the patio, pausing when he sees me waiting for him on the wooden bench. The rehab center asks their clients to visit with friends and family outside in the garden. From here, it almost looks like a luxury hotel.
“Hey.” I nod at him, standing up to greet him when he doesn’t move. I wouldn’t blame him for being pissed at me. I’m expecting it.
“Hey.” He nods back, scrubbing over the stubble on his chin.
He looks different than the last time I saw him. He looks better than he has in a long time, actually. His eyes are clear, his body looks healthy, and he isn’t limping around on his knee anymore. He’s bulked up a little, and there’s a new quiet peacefulness in his features.
He comes to sit beside me before thinking better of it and opts to pull a chair over instead. We both take a seat, our bodies mirroring each other as tension bleeds into the space between us.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” I start. “It was bullshit for me to leave like that. I should have talked to you first.”
“My dad told me about your conversation.” He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “It’s okay.”
“You aren’t shitty with me?”
“No.” He sounds a little surprised by his response. “I’m thinking clearly for the first time in years, and I guess in some fucked up way, I have you to thank for that.”
I lean back against the wooden slats and relax a little. “So, you’re getting shit worked out then?”
“Yeah.” He gazes over my shoulder at the ocean. “I am.”
He’s quiet for a minute, and I know it’s because he has something he needs to say. Carson tends to hold back when he shouldn’t, only to explode when his inhibitions are down. When he was drunk or high was the only time he could be honest with anyone.
“Have you been back to BMA?” There’s a slight edge to his voice when he asks.
“No.” I kick at the paver beneath my shoe.
He nods like he expected as much. “So, I take it you haven’t heard about the shit that went down with Kail then?”
My eyes snap to his. “What shit?”
He hesitates, and every worst-case scenario filters through my mind.
“She’s okay now,” he says. “But I was trying to tell you the day you left…”
“What happened to her?” I press.
My chest feels tight, and I don’t understand why he won’t just tell me.
“She…” He mutters something indecipherable and stands up, pacing away a few feet with his back to me. “Christ, Landon. I didn’t expect you to show up here like this.”
“Carson,” I growl. “Come on. Just fucking tell me, please—”
“I will.” He turns around slowly and releases a shaky breath. “But first, I have to tell you something else while I still can. Before I lose my nerve, and you take off again.”
His jumbled thoughts aren’t making any sense to me. I’m tempted to head to the reception desk right now and get a phone, so I can call Alana and ask her myself.Is Kail okay?
“I’ve been messed up in the head for a while,” Carson says, dragging me back to the conversation. “And I know you think it’s because I felt guilty over what happened that night at the party. The truth is, I did feel guilty.”
“You didn’t do anything with Kail,” I tell him. “I know that now.”