She wasn’t in there, so he made his way to the media room, and before he had even entered, he knew from the smell that’s where she was. He walked in and saw her slumped in a chair, her arm hanging over the side, an empty whiskey tumbler precariously balanced in her hand.
“Mom,” he said. “Are you okay?” He stood there for a few seconds, and when she didn’t reply, he walked over to where she was and gave her a little shake. Her eyes remained shut, the only change being that she then started to dribble alcohol out of the side of her mouth and onto the arm of the chair.
It turned his stomach.
He would have loved to have left her there, but he knew from past experience that wasn’t an option. Not if they wanted a media room that didn’t stink of vomit. So he picked her up and half-carried, half-dragged her to her bedroom, where he took off her shoes and laid her down on her side, with a bucket beside the bed in case she couldn’t make it to the bathroom.
His dad, as usual, was nowhere to be seen. It really got to him sometimes how this stuff was left for him to sort out. The sooner he finished school and could get away from there, the better. Not that he had any plans where to go. Once upon a time, he’d set his heart on Columbia, but now he wasn’t sure he had enough time to get his act together and apply.
After getting something to eat, Drew went to his bedroom and watched a movie to try and take his mind off Ruby. He fell asleep on top of his bed and was still in his clothes when he woke up in the morning. He showered and changed and went to the kitchen for breakfast. It surprised him to see his mom already up and sitting at the table nursing a mug of coffee.
“Morning,” he said gruffly.
“There’s coffee in the machine,” she said.
“Thanks.”
He took a mug down from the dresser and filled it up, then popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. He leaned against the counter and looked at his mom. Her hair looked like straw, and mascara stained her face. Knowing her, it would take a couple of shots before she could muster enough energy to make herself presentable for the day.
“You hate me, don’t you?” his mom asked.
He turned away, pretending to check on his toast, not wanting to give away his true feelings. Because however she acted, she was still his mom. And deep down, he knew that he loved her.
“No,” he muttered.
“I don’t blame you. I’m going to change. I promise.”
Drew sighed. How many times had she said that? He couldn’t even begin to remember. But for her to change, it would take more than just saying it. It needed action. He’d heard the words countless times before. And while she still hung out with her friends, and went to all the same places, he predicted that she would stay the same.
Like me.
He hitched in a breath as it suddenly hit him. He was being just like his mom. Not with the drinking, but how he approached things. Since the fire he’d been obsessed with it being his fault, telling himself that he deserved to be punished forever for what he had done. It hadn’t once entered his head that maybe the blame wasn’t all his. At least not until Ruby had mentioned it. And even then he thought she was just trying to be nice. But now…even if he was partly to blame for not blowing out Reese’s candles, it had been an accident. He’d wished with all his heart that he could turn the clock back and rework things so she’d still be alive. But she wasn’t, and he was. His burns were enough of a reminder at the moment about what had happened, without him imposing a life sentence of misery on himself and everyone around him.
And how right had Ruby been when she’d said that his self-obsession made him just like her dad? Drew had thought a lot about Mr. Davis. He’d only been half a dad and husband to his family and, as if replicating that, Drew had only been half a boyfriend to Ruby. His gut clenched just thinking about it.
He also thought about Blake, and what he’d said about Drew and Ruby being good together. Maybe that was a sign that Blake wasn’t lost to him as a friend. That he hadn’t screwed up totally. He knew it would be a long time before their friendship could get back to what it was after his betrayal, but just the prospect of them being closer again gave him hope for the future.
“I hope you do change, Mom.”
She went back to nursing her mug. He gulped down his coffee and left his toast. He needed to see Ruby. But first he had an important call to make. About something he hoped Ruby would approve. After, he ran out of the house, down the drive, and jumped into his car, taking off for the hospital. Whatever her response, he realized that he had to give it one more shot. He’d prove to her that he’d never be just like her father, or his mother. She was too important to him to not give it everything he had. And if she said no, he’d try again.
And again.
“Hey.”
Ruby’s heart skipped a beat when Drew poked his head around the door and before she could check herself, a huge smile crossed her face. Not that she didn’t want to look pleased to see him. She just didn’t want him to think she’d changed her mind. She still meant what she had said. They couldn’t carry on like they had before until he forgave himself and stepped into the light. It wasn’t good for anyone for her to keep enabling his self-imposed misery. Especially not him.
“Hi,” she said, silently congratulating herself for sounding calm.
“Can we talk?” Drew asked.
Her pulse quickened. Deep down, her heart wanted her to fling herself into his arms and ask that they go back to their secret relationship. Her head pulled her in the opposite direction, telling her that she needed to move on. And pay more attention to getting a scholarship. She had goals, and they should come first. Head, heart. Heart, head. How the heck was she supposed to work it out?
“Sure,” she replied with a nonchalance that belied the total and utter mayhem careering through her body at that moment.
The awkward look on his face was so cute, it took all Ruby’s willpower to not drag him over to the bed and kiss him. Not that she could do that anyway, without causing herself some major physical pain. Once the meds began to wear off, her arm would be agony, not to mention the bruises all over her body. Her good hand was about the only thing not hurting so much now.
“What you said yesterday, I—”
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Ruby interrupted.
Drew held up both hands. “Please, Ruby. Let me finish,” he pleaded.
“Sorry.” She bit down on her bottom lip, anxious to hear what he had to say but not holding out much hope that things would change sufficiently for her to reconsider.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said. And I get what you mean, but—”
“But you still can’t change,” Ruby interrupted.
“No. That’s not it.” He sounded frustrated.
Heat rushed up her cheeks. “Sorry. I promise not to speak at all until you’ve finished.” She pretended to zip her mouth with her hand.
“I’ve come to realize that my life is more than the burns on my body. I know nothing will change what’s happened, and I’ll never forget. But I want more. I want for us to be together. I’m over living like this, making myself miserable. Making you miserable. You don’t deserve that.”
Euphoria flooded her body. At last she’d finally gotten through to him. Except… A breath hitched in the back of her throat. Talk was cheap. What if all he wanted to do was for them to keep seeing each other but still not really change? “That’s good. And what are you going to do to change how you’re living?” She held her breath, waiting for his reply.
“I’ve started to sort out my shit with Blake. I hope.” He ran his fingers through his hair and frowned.
“Yes, I saw the state of his knuckles,” she said. “Although he seems to be less angry about everything.”
“It’s a guy thing. Fists first. Talk after.” He grinned.
“I’ll take your word for that,” she said, shaking her head.
“So what do you say? Will you give me another chance?”