I… I don't know what to do here.
Eventually, we find our way onto Pacific Coast Highway.
The deep blue of the ocean bleeds into the sky. We drive far enough into Malibu that the stars start shining.
Walker pulls into a lot on our left. He parks, turns the car off, presses his back against the seat.
"You want to head to the beach?" I don't know what to say. Or how to fix this. I can't. No one can. I know that better than anyone.
He nods yeah.
We get out of the car.
He stays a few paces ahead of me as we move toward the water. I step out of my shoes, carry them with two fingers, press my bare feet into the freezing sand.
He stops at the edge of the surf and stares out at the water. "I guess I should explain."
"You don't have to."
"You don't want to hear it?"
"No. I do. I just… I know what addiction is like."
"It's your focus, right?"
"Yeah." My dissertation is on addiction. "But it's not just research. I…" I'm not hijacking his story. He wants to tell me. He wants to share this. I need to support him here. "Go ahead. Start at the beginning."
He nods. "Bree always liked to party. But I thought it was normal. I did too. Well, once I was old enough to get invites to parties. Sometimes I'd go with her. Dean too. We all used sometimes."
"You used heroin?"
"No." He shakes his head. "I had no idea she did for a while. But I tried a lot of other shit. Never quite developed a taste for anything but whiskey."
I nod.
"I thought it was the same for her. She went to college. She kept partying, yeah, but it seemed normal. It's not like I was a paragon of sobriety."
I move closer.
He rubs my arms with his hands. "You're shivering."
I nod.
He slides his leather jacket off his arms and slings it around my shoulders.
It's warm.
Sweet.
Affectionate.
I swallow hard. "What happened?"
"One day, I got this worried call from a party. Asking if I was Sabrina Williams’s brother. Telling me she was passed out. That an ambulance was on the way."
"She overdosed?"
"Yeah. A mix of prescription painkillers and alcohol."