Running From You

Chapter 31

NORA

I must have finally dozed off at some point in the night because the next thing I know, the room's grown a little lighter. It must still be early, I try to gauge the time by the light.

"You awake?" Tyler's voice is scratchy from the drinking.

"Yeah," I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, not able to face him quite yet. What am I supposed to say now? I settle for the most obvious question. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a truck."

"And..." I hesitate, not knowing where we stand exactly, "Why were you drinking?"

"No reason," comes his muffled response.

"I know something's wrong," I press him. "You don't usually get trashed during season, especially this close to districts. And you don't do it alone, either." Or in a cemetery, I silently add.

"Why do you care?" I feel him turn to his side so that he's facing me, but I keep my eyes glued to the ceiling.

"I don't know," I whisper. "Maybe because you used to be my best friend. Maybe because I miss you, us. Maybe because I know you're going through something, and have been going through it for years, now. Maybe because I just can't bring myself not to care."

He stays silent for a long while, thinking it over. I can feel his eyes on me, searching my face for something. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and strangled, like it's hard for him to get the words out. "My mom."

"What about her?" I gently ask. I already have a pretty good idea but I don't want to jump the gun.

"She— he clears his throat, "She died exactly three years from today. Well, yesterday, now."

I close my eyes, hearing the pain in his voice and turn to my side. "I'm so sorry," I open my eyes and gaze into Tyler's that are filled with pain.

We're so close that his liquor breath fans my face as he continues. "Overdose. That's what killed her. No, that's what she did to herself," his face crumbles in anger as he spits out the words. "She did that."

I reach for his hand and squeeze it comfortingly. It's now his turn to face the ceiling.

He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath before continuing. "Remember that back surgery she had when... when we were still friends?"

I nod silently, telling him to continue.

"Well, it didn't help with the pain, only made it worse," there's so much hatred in his voice. "She was prescribed oxycodone, I think, to help with the pain, but I don't think they were enough. She used them more than she was supposed to and after a while she was addicted. Dad didn't know at the time, she kept it hidden. I don't think she even admitted it herself. I don't know the details—dad says he's trying to protect me—but apparently she got them somewhere else, then, when her supply ran out before time. Then one day..." his voice breaks and he open his eyes and I know what he's going to say before he says it. "One day in the summer, you were in that lake house with Caleb, I came home from playing basketball with the guys and..."

"You found her," my chest crumbles at the thought of a fifteen-year-old Tyler, still so innocent and happy, walking into the house to find his mom overdosing.

He nods. "I knew something was wrong the second I walked in. Bella was crying, like really crying," he meets my terrified eyes as realization hits me. Bella was only two at the time. "Yeah, she was home with mom," he drags his free hand down his face, looking exhausted. "I went in to the living room and found her bawling over mom, who was lying on the floor. She still had a pulse, a weak one, but it was there, and I called an ambulance. And they saved her," a shadow passes over his face. "That time."