“You can go back to bed,” I said.
She rubbed her eyes. “No I can’t.”
“Why?”
She looked up at me, confused, a little hurt. It must have been my tone. Damn it. I didn’t mean for it to sound as bitter as it did. When the Oxy wasn’t working, it was like the pain was a filter for everything I said, clipping it, spiking it.
She shrugged. “I just can’t get back to sleep once my brain starts going. I’m supposed to get drowsy on metformin, but it never seems to work. God, I hope it’s working in general,” she mused.
Metformin was one of her diabetes medications. I’d peeked in the medicine cabinet on Wednesday while I was washing my hands. She had seven altogether. Even under my health insurance, that was a lot. A lot to pay for, and a lot to put down your throat.
I wanted to be kinder. “Sorry I woke you.”
“You— I’ve kinda noticed in the past week,” she began, then stopped, choosing her words. “Luke, you make noises a lot when you sleep. Like screams.” She continued, slow, each word making me feel smaller, more compact. “Do you think we should rethink the plan? And maybe get you some help?”
Just like that, kindness failed me. I felt like a floodlight was shining. How was it possible to feel so exposed under the stare of just one person? Her eyes were still sleepy, gentle, but if this was her version of kindness, I didn’t want it. It was too close to pity.
I tried to keep my voice level. It didn’t work. “I said sorry for waking you. I don’t know what else to say. If you want to go back on the plan, then that’s on you.”
“Hey, whoa,” Cassie said, standing. “It was just a suggestion.”
“Just say the word and I’ll do it.”
“Uh, okay.” She picked up the pillow from where it had landed on the floor and tossed it next to me. “I’m not your boss, or your mother, or whoever. I was just trying to point out that something seems to be off.”
Her gaze burned. Everything I wanted to say was cycling at once, up and down, like the hills in my dream, and I couldn’t figure out which one to take hold of. I kept going toward anger because it was the easiest. But it wasn’t the only thing I was feeling. Everything else was buried under my nightmare.
Jake, with Hailey and JJ, lying on the blanket. Why hadn’t Jake called me? What if Johnno had showed up in Buda again? Is that why Jake wasn’t calling again?
Running. No, wheeling. Limping.
The gunshot in my ear, sounding real. Frankie’s boots on the splattered ground.
“I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“Rad,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go in my room and not sleep. Thanks.”
“Fuck,” I said, burying my face in my hands. The closest I’d get to another apology. I needed to condense everything into one thing. I wanted cloud head, but the stabbing pain had subsided. Technically I didn’t need the pills.
I reached for them anyway.
