Don't Tell (Don't 1)

“What’s not? What’s happening?”

“They’re making me sick. All the meds they put me on. Tell Mom to stop it. Can you do that?”

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. “Take a big breath for me and tell me what is going on. What are the meds? Are they something new?”

I heard him pause on the other end. I think sometimes that was the hardest part. Garrett listened to me. When he shut everyone else out, he listened to me. And I had left him behind, making his circle even smaller than it was.

“It’s the same stuff,” he groaned.

“Ok, then you know you need to take them regularly. The same time. Every single day. That’s the only way your body is going to find balance. You haven’t given it a chance. You’re on. You’re off. Let the medicine help you.”

“You don’t know what it feels like.” I could hear his breaths becoming more erratic. “They make me tired, like I’m looking through a bubble of glass. I hate them, Emily.”

I sighed. “I know you do. But how are things going to get better if you don’t try what you have to try?”

“I’m doing this on my own.” He cleared his throat.

“What?”

“I’m moving out. I’m going to detox this crap out of my system.”

I shook my head. If I were with him, I’d shake him. “No, no, no. Just six months. Try six months of staying on a schedule and then if you don’t like how you feel we can try something else, but don’t do this, Garrett. Not like this.”

“I’m tired of fighting with Mom. Dad doesn’t give a shit. I have a buddy who is thinking of going into business with his cousin down at the beach.”

“Business? What kind of business?”

“Setting up a repair shop. Boats, cars, whatever.”

I tried to control the trembles that had started. “You don’t have a background in mechanics. What are you going to do there?”

“Graphic design of course. I’ll do the marketing. The website. They want me to do the logo.”

A woman walked inside with a little girl who couldn’t have been more than five. I tried to smile at them as I slipped out the door and outside. I didn’t want to be too far away from the office in case Addie started searching for me, but I couldn’t leave Garrett in the middle of this.

He was in the middle of one of his highs. A high I had experienced way too often. And I knew what was coming next—the low. But when? How many days or weeks would it take?

“Just listen to me for a minute. I don’t think you have to pick up and move to work on this opportunity. It’s great they see how talented you are. Because you are an amazing graphic designer. But why not stay at home where you can focus on recovery and then if you have free time, you can freelance for them?”

“No, sis. I’m all in.”

Damn it. I knew that’s what he would say.

“Can we at least talk about this tonight when I get home from work? I want to know who these guys are. Have you looked at their business plan? Where is the shop?

What beach? The details are important here.”

He laughed. “Well, here’s the surprise.”

I cringed.

“I’m in the car. Already packed. I’m driving right now.”

“Holy shit. Does Mom know you left?”

“No, but I did leave a note this time so she won’t freak out and call the police.”

“Damn it, Garrett,” I seethed into the phone. “You have an illness and you have to take care of yourself. You’re going to break her heart.” I left out the part about how many times he had broken mine. I had scars that were jagged and deep.