Promise. (Manthony)

Ten

     I lean against the doorframe to Mitchel's room. A big sigh escapes his lips as he hangs up the phone and stares down at the papers in front of him. "You okay?" I ask abruptly. He turns to look at me. Getting up from the chair he was sitting in.

"As good as any of us can be." He reasons. "I have to sign these papers and drop them off at Evan's office or something."

"I can take them. Just sign them, and I'll go right now."

"Can I come with you?" He asks, getting up from his chair. I shrug as my response. Sitting down on his messy bed. He didn't bother to make it this morning like he usually did. He was still recovering from the fight. Therefore certain everyday chores were harder to do than they normally would be.

"I'm not mad at you," He states as he sits down next to me. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not mad at you the way you think I am. I have a lot of fault in this too."

"Please stop," I interrupt. "I was the idiot who took the drugs."

Mitchel comes over and sits down next to me. His cologne made him smell a bit like pine and vanilla. It fills my nose and makes me suppress a moan that would have made things awkward. I loved the scent and wanted it to be near me forever.

"And I was the one who started the fight." Mitchel sighs deeply. Twirling one of his braids around and around his finger.

"Why were you so upset anyway?" I ask, wanting to know why he cared as much as he did. Mitchel rolls his eyes at this question.

"I was upset you followed in my footsteps. Besides, you promised me you never would." He replies sadly. I couldn't help but look at his sad expression even though I didn't want to. He was disappointed in me. And that hurt more than anything.

"We were like seventeen, Mitchel." I say rather than apologizing the way I should have. I felt defensive even though I knew damn well I didn't have the right to.

"I was eighteen, actually." He snaps. "And do you honestly think I'm proud that I did something so stupid at that age? I lost my shit completely, and you know that!

"I'm an adult. I can make my own choices. I don't need you controlling my every move." I snap at him, ignoring the way he looked offended by what I had said.

"Controlling?!" He repeats, his eyes widening at my choice of words. "You couldn't even stand, Kras! You were all over the place and I was worried. If I hadn't found you, I don't know what would've happened. Someone could've taken advantage of you or you could've gotten fucking hurt!" He yells at me. There was hurt laced in every inch of his tone of voice.

"And who's decision was that?!" I yell back. "I'll answer for you. It was mine!"

Mitchel looked appalled by my reaction. I wanted to stop making this conversation worse, but my anger was bubbling up. I wasn't even angry at Mitchel. I was angry at myself for hurting him and ruining important things to us—important things to me.

"I don't need you babying me, okay? I have things under control." I add.

"Under control?" He mocks. Snickering at my comment. "Half the videos on the fucking internet are of you crying and screaming for someone to help me because you couldn't do it your goddamn self!" Mitchel gets up from his bed. Standing in front of me.

"I was high out of my mind! That's my fault, I know but-"

"There's no but!" Mitchel screams at me, making me flinch. "You could've overdosed. You could've been hurt. The list goes on!" He reminds me again.

"And that's not your problem!" I yell back. Standing up as well so that now we were almost at eye level. I was slightly taller than Mitchel, though.