I Do What I Do » John Taylor

XXI

JOHN

It's only been a few days and I feel like shit. I stayed up snorting the entire night. I've barely touched it in weeks, but the second she's gone, it's like I need to use it all over again. It's been hell without it. I don't know what to do with myself. I can't even remember who I was with a few hours ago. I'm just hopeful that I don't do something I'm not proud of...or something that'll ruin me. The phone sounds. I pick up almost immediately, needing to distract myself. My hand shakes.

"Hello?"

"John?"

There she is.

"Hi!" I say into the phone, trying to mask my high.

"Oh, good! I thought I dialed the wrong number," she giggles. "I got home safe and well. I'm sorry it took so long to call. I got busy."

"Good," I say, letting out a sigh of relief. "Don't worry about it." I feel weird talking to her like this. I know she wouldn't like it. The last thing I need her to know is that I've already gone back and snorted. I'm helpless. "I'm glad."

"You okay? You sound tired," she asks, her tone switching slightly.

I'm not even sure of what to say. "I'm alright! I mean, you saw me a few days ago, did I look tired?"

"Not particularly, no," she replies. "But that was like, three days ago."

"The answer was supposed to be no!" I exclaim jokingly. She laughs.

"Sorry...I meant no! Oops!"

I laugh nervously. "That's what I thought," I add. I think I need to hang up. If I don't, I might just go insane. "I'll let you go and get settled back in."

"Oh. Alright," she reluctantly replies. "...Are you sure you're okay, John?"

"I'm fine," I snap, and I know I've fucked up.

"Excuse me?"

I'm so fucked.

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to snap like that," I say. "Maybe I am tired..."

"John?"

"Yes...?"

"You only ever snap at me like that for one reason," she scolds.

"Which is?"

A sigh comes through the phone. "Do you seriously think that you can hide it?"

I fall silent. Great. Just what I need. "Hide what?" I respond. What other choice do I have except to play dumb?

"I wanted to see if you would lie to me, and you did. Right through your goddamn teeth," she confesses. It's like I can feel her anger through the phone. And oddly enough, the fear. "You're high." I cringe as the words leave her mouth.

"Nope."

"You're still going to fucking lie? What kind of idiot do you take me for, John?" Her voice breaks slightly. She's got me cornered.

"Fuck, Erin, I am," I admit. "Does that bother you?"

"What kind of question is that? You know damn well, it does," she answers angrily. "But that's not even what I'm angry about."