Addicted To You .L.S.

Twenty.

Now (June)

Dad drops me back at home. He stays at the curb, the car idling until I'm safe inside the house. I wait until he's gone and get in my car and drive to the store.
I try to distract myself among the rows of plants, leaning to hard on the cart as I push it along. I breathe deep, gulping in the scent, rich and earthy and green, and it loosens something inside my chest that's been there since I stepped inside Davids office.

After paying for my flowers and soil, I smile and shake my head at the girl at the counter who asks if I need help. The carts heavy, but I put my weight into it, gritting my teeth as my muscles spasm.  By the time I get to my car, my legs hurting enough that I'm steeling myself  to go get someone to help me load the bags of soil into the trunk. Someone honks behind me and I pulled the cart out of the way.

"Hey, Louis, is that you?" Adam Clarke peers out at me from his pickup truck. I've known him, like nearly everyone else at my school, for most of my life. He's dated our friend Amber—Aaron's twin sister—, for almost a year, and she used to go on and on about how he looked like country music video version of a Disney prince. Pair the worn baseball cap, his cowboy boots, and a fondness for horses and John Deere t-shirts with his green eyes, straight nose, and perfect smile. Amber had a point.

"Hi, Adam."
He looks from my trolley of soil down at my leg, and understanding filters through his face. "You need help?"

When I finally was allowed back to school after the crash, Harry had assigned all our friends jobs to make sure my comeback went smoothly. There'd been a calendar with colour blocks and code names and everything. Aaron had been my bathroom buddy because Harry had a different lunch period than we did. Cody was in charge of reminding me to take my medications, because he was the most punctual. And because they were the strongest and in all my classes, Adam and Kylie had carried my stuff for me and made sure I didn't fall down.
I hated Harry's little army of helpers at first, but after the fourth time of dropping my books everywhere and not being able to get up the stairs fast enough for my next classes, I knew better than to refuse help. I learned to be grateful for all of them and their willingness to help no matter what.

"That'd be great. Thanks, Adam."
Adam pulls his truck next to my car and hops out. "Planting a garden?"

"Yeah, gives me something to do." I pop my trunk open and he grabs the first bag, placing it inside. "What are you doing here?"

"Mrs. Jasper buys venison from me and Matt."
"Good season this year?"
Adam smiles, pushing his baseball cap back, black hair curling against his forehead. "Yeah. It's been great for Matt. He's been getting healthy." He hefts another bag easily over his shoulder, dumping it in my trunk.

"What about you?" I ask, because I don't want the conversation veering to me. "Are you going for the football scholarship still?"
"Trying." He grins. "Pretty much the only way I'm going to get out of here. But Uncle Ro thinks I've got a good chance. He's been on my ass about it, making my run suicides."
I wince in sympathy. "I remember he used to have us do those. My dad thought we were too young. They used to argue about it."
"I forgot you played."
"I lasted a season, and then swimming took over. And after that, you know..." I shrug.

Adam reaches out and squeezes my arm, and it takes an effort not to flinch. If I don't see it coming, I tend to jump when people touch me now. I'm sure David would have loads to say about it.

"I know things have been tough. But it'll get better," he says earnestly. "You just need to stay clean. You know, my brother went through the same thing. He relapsed, too. He really screwed up, stole money from our mom—she almost lost our house because of it. But my uncle got him on the right track. Matt made amends, and he's doing really good on the program now. Healthy, like I said. Him and my mom are even talking again. So I know if you take this seriously, stick close to your family, you'll be okay. You're strong, Lou. Just think about all the stuff you've gotten through."
"That's really nice," I tell him. "Thank you."