I’d just gotten outside when I heard Declan behind me, calling my name.
“Bri? Babe, wait up.”
“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” I said, refusing to turn around.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked, finally catching up to me and reaching for my arm.
“Am I mad at you?” I whirled around, staring at him. “This is your fault, so yeah, I’m fucking mad at you. I’m mad at all of you! If you hadn’t filled his head with rock and roll dreams, he wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“Rock and roll dreams? He’s a guitar tech-in-training. I don’t think anyone grows up dreaming about being a roadie.”
“He doesn’t have anything else to dream about!” I threw up my hands. “You gave him the chance to reach his version of the golden ring—what did you think was going to happen once he had money and access to drugs?”
“He doesn’t have any money other than a pittance for meals when we’re on the road.”
“A junkie will starve to buy drugs.”
“True, but we gave him a reason to get up in the morning, which is more than he had before.”
“Kiki gave him a reason to get up in the morning!” Maybe that wasn’t true, but I was pissed off and scared.
“You can’t live your life for someone else,” he said quietly.
“You can when the only thing you had in your life before that person was nightmares and drugs. And then you all but put the drugs in his hands!”
“Because he didn’t have access to drugs the first time he overdosed?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine warily.
“He did, but he was doing well working for Marla and living with Kiki. It hasn’t even been a month since he’s been on the road with you and look what happened. And now me and Kiki and my parents, we’re the ones who are going to have to deal with the fallout.”
“No, you’re not.” He reached for me again, but I stepped back. “I’m here for you. For both of you.”
“You don’t get it, Declan.”
“I do! You think this is my first experience with an addict? He needs help, good help, and we can give it to him. The band and I will do whatever it takes to help him through this. He’s part of—”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” I yelled, glaring at him.
“Get what?” he snapped, his eyes narrowing a little. “That you don’t want me to help? That you blame me? Yeah, I’m getting that message loud and clear! But what you don’t get is that I—the band and I—we want to help. Noah is part of our family now.”
I stared at him, slowly shaking my head. “But that’s just it—you’re not. I’m Noah’s family. Not the band, not you, not even Kiki. I’m the only family he has because our parents are too fucked-up to handle their own shit, much less his. So as usual, all of this falls on me.”
We stared at each other for a minute and then he lifted his hands, as if in surrender. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said finally, “but it’s obvious you have your own idea about the definition of the word family, and more precisely, a spectacularly different definition of what love is.” He turned and walked back into the hospital.
* * *
I sat in a hard, uncomfortable chair the rest of the day and evening. Noah hadn’t woken up and the band had left the hospital, heading back to the hotel. Sometime around midnight, Lexi knocked on the door and stuck her head in.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” I looked up wearily.
“I brought you a few things, in case you want to clean up. Toiletries, change of clothes, the charger for your phone.” She set a small bag down.
“Thank you.”
“How is he?” she asked softly, looking at the bed.
“No change.”
“He’s going to be okay,” Lexi said firmly, walking over to smooth Noah’s hair back from his face. “You hear me, Noah? You’re going to be fine!”
I blinked away tears. “Thank you.”
She turned to me, coming to sit in the chair next to mine. “What happened with you and Bash? He looked pretty upset.”
“We argued.” I sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I can only focus on Noah right now and that’s about the most I can handle.”
“You don’t have to do it alone,” Lexi said. “I don’t know what the other people in your life do, but in my life, we’re there for each other.”
“I’m too angry right now,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. It might be a little irrational, but it all comes down to one thing: Noah was doing fine until you guys took him on tour with you. I knew it was a bad idea, but he was so excited, and he seemed okay…but an addict can’t live this lifestyle. It’s just not possible.”
Lexi frowned a little. “I think you’re wrong about that, but even if you’re not, this isn’t anyone’s fault. That’s like saying it’s my fault I got breast cancer. Addiction is a disease, just like cancer. You know that. Noah was already an addict. He’ll always be an addict. There’s temptation everywhere. Working for a catering company that serves alcohol is also temptation. Whatever happened that made him fall off the wagon is on him. When it’s all said and done, the only person truly responsible for Noah is Noah. Not you, not Kiki, and certainly not the band.” She slowly got to her feet. “And contrary to what you think, we’re here for you. Call or text if you need anything.”
She squeezed my shoulder and then she was gone, leaving me feeling even worse than before. Even though I still blamed the band to a degree, she was right that the ultimate responsibility fell to Noah. And he’d fucked up big-time. If he didn’t pull through, I didn’t know what I was going to do.
I dug through the bag she’d brought me and got out my charger so I could plug in my phone. It had died two hours ago and I hadn’t heard from Kiki before it did.
“Kiki?” Noah’s voice made my head snap up and I was instantly on my feet, rushing to his side.
“Noah? Wake up, Noah. Please, wake up.”
“I am awake.” He blinked a few times and squinted. “Where am I?”
“Hospital. You OD’d. Do you remember?”
He met my gaze guiltily and then closed his eyes again.
“Don’t do that,” I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks. “Please. Open your eyes, Noah.”
“Sorry, sis.” He cleared his throat. “You think I could have some water?”
“I don’t know.” I called for a nurse and then there were doctors and nurses everywhere, checking him out, asking him questions, talking about what had happened. He’d shot up a lethal dose of crystal meth but because housekeeping had found him in time, they’d been able to help him.
“Am I going to jail?” Noah asked the doctor.
“California has Good Samaritan overdose immunity laws,” the doctor responded. “So you’re safe. This time. But I highly encourage rehab, Mr. Franklin.”
“Yeah.”
It was nearly two in the morning before everyone left the room and Noah and I could talk.