TW: Mentions of cocaine and oxy use/addiction along with gaslighting.
Takes place two months after the last installment, still in James and David's senior years. They're now 18.
David is terrible in this chapter, he's at one of his worst points in his addiction. It's okay to hate him here. It's important to see how terrible he was, to understand his growth in the main story.
James pushes his way through the crowds of people, Jack on his arm. This party is lame. Watered down booze, pop music that doesn't get anyone in the mood to dance. There's not even beer or red solo cups to play everyone's favorite game. There's only one thing left to do. About the only thing he and Jack have in common. She's in a teal crop top and high rise black shorts that show off her ass. A good time with her will guarantee this night isn't a total bust and a waste of time.
As the two round the corner, Jack stands on her tiptoes to kiss his ear, whispering all the dirty things she'll do to him once they get a room. That quickens his step as he pulls her up into her arms in a fireman's hold. She lets out a loud laugh, her hair tickling his cheek.
James nudges open the first door he sees, ready to throw her back on the bed and rip her clothes off. The room should be empty, Sam begged them to stay in the front of the house. Instead, James finds it occupied. His brother sits at Sam's desk, which is littered with Star Wars figurines that match the posters on the walls and sheets on the bed. Arthur Ryan stands above David. James slowly lowers Jack feet first on the floor, an uneasy feeling taking over. In David's hand is a credit card, which he's combing against something. He takes a few steps closer, Jack not far behind. David doesn't even look up, entranced with his project. It reminds James of the zen garden on Dr. Carson's desk. Except instead of sand to rake, it's a molehill of coke.
"David!"
The credit card slips from David's fingers and onto the floor. He looks up, their identical blue eyes connecting. Panic is etched on his brother's face. His mouth opens and closes repeatedly like a fish.
The first person to speak is Arthur. "James, why don't you go down the hall? The master bedroom is bigger."
James ignores the college freshman that shouldn't even be at this party. "David," he repeats. "What the hell?"
"Really, James," Arthur butts in. "This is none of your business."
James' head snaps up, fury running through his body. He barely even hears the door push open in the background, Jack no doubt slipping out. James doesn't care. Suddenly, any drive to fuck her has disappeared.
"None of my business? You have my brother here about to do coke. Is this how you get your kicks? Corrupting high schoolers?"
David's voice comes out in a soft whisper. "James…" The quiet is quickly taken over by Arthur's loud laughter. James narrows his eyes.
"This is funny to you?! Which part? Pressuring my brother into doing coke? Or him being scared shitless?"
"You thinking your brother is some innocent lamb," Arthur fires back once his laughter has subsided.
"He is."
James sees the flicker of doubt take over David's eyes. He tilts his head. David has always been the better of the two. Good grades, even with his ADHD and dyslexia. A great group of friends. He's on the cheer squad, dating the homecoming queen. James is the family screw up. He's the one Robin can depend on, James too. Without David, he and their dad's fights would cause damage beyond repair. Maybe David isn't perfect, but to James he's more like the older brother.
"Arthur, come on." David picks up a discarded mini plastic bag, using the credit card to carefully put it back. "We don't have to do this now."
"Now? How about never?"
Arthur smirks and James wants nothing more than to punch him in the face. "No, Dave. Does your brother not know that you've been buying this and pills off me for months?"
David stares at the ground as every muscle in James' body tightens. He grabs hold of David's arm, forcing him up.
"Let's go."
"James…"
"Now!"
Arthur steps forward, putting a hand on David's back. "You're a big boy, Dave. You don't have to go with him if you don't want to."
David shakes his head. "He's just going to be an ass about it. Not worth it. I'll call you."
He pulls himself away from James, storming out of the bedroom. James walks quickly behind him. The loud bubblegum pop drowns out behind them as James slams the front door shut. David's ignoring him, heading straight for their shared truck.
"Hey!" James yells after him. David spins around, looking pissed. "What the hell? I catch you about to do a line of coke and you're mad at me?!"
"I had it handled!"
"Handled? David, how could you be so stupid?"
He throws his hand in the air. "Or I guess the real question is, how long have you been this stupid?"
"It's not a big deal, okay? Like you've never done drugs."
"Pot, some."
"And you drink like a fucking fish. You have no moral high ground here."
"Coke is a lot different than some rum and weed, David! And you know it! What did he mean about pills?"
"I'm not having this conversation."
"Yes, you are. Or I call Robin right now."
David glares at him, walking closer.
"Look, sometimes my leg still hurts. My prescription ran out and the doctor won't give me more. Arthur has connections, it's just when I can't stand it."
James' anger slowly decreases, worry taking its place. "That sounds dangerous. Oxy can be pretty addictive."
"I'm not an addict, okay? I broke my leg in three places. My PT said it's bound to hurt every now and again. He recommended different treatments, none of it works. Just the pills."
"How many do you take a day?"
"It's not that many."
"Tell me. Now."
David sighs, running his hair through the curls that dangle in front of his eyes.
"I dunno. Three or four."
"David!"
"It keeps the pain away. I can do the routines as needed, go out with my friends and Kathryn. It works better than a stupid ice bath and those excersises."
"I refuse to believe that."
"Believe whatever the hell you want."
James shakes his head. "And the coke? Are you really buying that twice a month?"
"God, no. You think I have that kind of money? I just do it at parties."
"Arthur said…"
"Arthur is a prick who wants to get under your skin."
James stares at his brother, trying to figure out the truth. Can he really not tell if his own twin is lying? Bedtime always assumes they have this psychic connection. In this moment, James can't figure out what's going on in his head.
"I still think the pills are too dangerous," he finally says. "And even if it is just at the rare party, coke could kill you."
"I know what I'm doing." James doesn't move. "What? Are you going to tell Dad? You honestly think he'd believe you? You always like to make fun of me and call me a Daddy's boy, the golden child. Who do you think he'll believe? Me, who as far as he knows has never even drank? Or the son that he's had to hose puke off of?"
James' stomach drops, hurt taking over his heart. He knows that he's a screw up. James started acting out so long ago, he isn't sure if he could stop, even if he wanted to. It's easier to push Robin away himself these days. It means Robin can't leave him, like Robert did. Robin keeps pushing, hard. One day he'll give up, James is sure of it.
He thinks of all the times he blamed shit on David. A broken vase when they were 6. Stolen candy from the bodega when they were 8. The graffiti on the neighbor's garage when they were 14. More recently, that bottle of lemon vodka that Robin found in the truck. It wasn't even James', Jack left it there. James was quick to point the finger to David. Robin shook his head.
"David doesn't even speed, James. Why would he be so stupid to drink and drive?"
James relented after that, admitting to all of it. David wasn't even smug, willing to take the fall for his brother. Because that's the kind of guy he is.
Or at least who he used to be.
As James stares into his brother's angry eyes, he knows it's true. He's cried wolf too many times. Robin will never believe Golden Boy would touch coke or take oxy like tic tacs.
"You're right," James mumbles. "He wouldn't."
David nods. "Stay out of my business, okay? You've never given a shit before. Don't start now."
James shakes his head. "David, that's not…"
"Let's call a spade a spade. For the past 7 years, all you have cared about is your anger. Your pain. You lost Mom so you get to be an asshole. It's fine. I've accepted it. But you can't have it both ways. If you wanted to be my brother, you should've tried years ago."
Tears burn James' eyes but he wills them away. He doesn't cry. No matter what Dr. Carson says about it being healthy, he won't let it happen.
"I'm going. Can you get a ride with Jack?"
James shakes his head. "I'll come with you."
David rolls his eyes. "Why? Afraid I'll snort something?"
"No, David," James says through gritted teeth. "Believe it or not, I want to spend time with you."
"You're right. I don't believe it."
The two climb into the truck, James taking the wheel. David pulls his legs up onto the bench seat, curling them under him. He lays his head out the window. James stares at him for a second, trying to picture the brother he used to have. The one that had a smile that could melt the sun. The one who nerded out over comic books. The one who believed in the Easter Bunny until he was 11. The one who held James' hand during their mother's funeral and gave him that famous charming smile.
"It'll be okay, Jamie."
James pushed him away at the time. Nothing felt like it was ever going to be okay. Not again.
And yet now, that's all James wanted. For David to hold his hand and promise everything will be okay.
That brother is gone now. James is responsible for his disappearance, at least partially. That's all their dad will think, even if he does believe him.
James does what he does best. He leans over and cranks the old AC/DC tape that's stuck in the cassette player, staring out into the dark road in front of him, forcing himself to bury his worry and pain.
