More Than Her

My dad chuckled. "Sweetheart, he's been drinking openly since he was sixteen, it's fine." He gave her a reassuring smile.

I saw her body relax as she handed it to me.

When I was sixteen, Dad noticed the amount of parties I started going to. It was before I got my license so we walked almost everywhere. When I got my permit, he sat me down and told me he was fine with me drinking, that he knew I was going to do it, so he wanted me to be prepared about the consequences of alcohol. He went through the entire medical side of things, and how often he saw kids having to get their stomach pumped and shit like that. Then he told me about Tina. Tina was his high school sweetheart. They'd dated since freshman year and all through college. He told her he'd propose to her the day he graduated. And he pla

She was his person.

***

"Holy shit, what is this?" Dad and I both said during our first mouthful of whatever Amanda made. I swear I saw Dad's eyes roll back in satisfaction.

Amanda laughed. "Good, huh?"

"Sweetheart," Dad cooed. "This is better than good."

"It's Taco casserole."

"It's amazing is what it is," I told her.

We moved to the living room after di

I nodded, looking down at her. "Yeah. She's always so overtired. She works way too much."

"Does she need to work that much?"

"I offered to pay more rent, she won't let me."

Then it was quiet for a moment, while I continued to watch her sleep.

"She makes you happy, son?" he asked quietly.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "She makes me whole."

I had to wake her to move us to the pool house for the night, by the time we said goodnight and left the main house, she was wide-awake.

"It's such a nice night out," she said, her head tilted, looking up at the sky.

I agreed.

"Let's just stay out here for a bit."

So we did.

I walked us over to the day bed near the pool and laid us down. She put her head on the crook of my arm and her leg over me.

"So I've made a decision," I told her.

She looked up at me. "Yeah?"

"I think I want to go see her."

"With Micky?"

"I guess."

"Good for you, babe."

There was also something else I wanted to tell her, or ask her actually, but I didn't know how. So I just came out and said it. "What are your plans after college? I mean, are you pla

She sat up and little and eyed me curiously. "Not sure," she shrugged. "Why?"

I cleared my throat and faked confidence, locking my fingers behind my head. My heart pounded against my chest. I didn't know how she'd react to me asking but I kind of needed to know. "Just—I mean—when I choose med schools to apply for, I kind of need to know where you'll be, or what your plans are, you know?" I rushed out my words in one long breath.

She closed her eyes slowly and visibly swallowed.

Shit. "Shit," I said aloud. "Forget I said anything. I'm sorry. It's way too soon for this conversation."

She smiled. "Maybe it is—too soon, I mean—but who gives a shit, right?"

I laughed once. "Right."

Then she lay back down and rested her head on my chest again. Her hand went under my shirt, fingering my abs. "I'll follow you wherever, Logan. For as long as you'll have me."

Forever, I thought. But I kept that to myself.

THIRTY FIVE

Logan

I could tell it was hard for Jake to stay quiet while I told Micky that I wanted to visit Megan.

"Suicide watch?" Micky asked, her voice breaking. She'd been crying since the Amanda told her the rumors of Megan's life in LA.

I nodded. "I'm going a week from now, it's a five hour drive."

"I'm going, too," she insisted.

"So am I," Jake said.

Amanda held my hand tighter, she didn't have to say the words. I knew she would be coming to support me.

***

We took Dylan's truck for the trip. Mine was too small, Jake had no back seat and Micky's car was too unreliable.

Five hours later we stood in the foyer of the Dalton Psychiatric House. Amanda and Jake stayed outside. I had researched visiting protocols and times, so was prepared when they asked us to hand in anything loose that was on us. A metal detector and a security search later, we were inside what looked like a visiting room. Like in jail. Not that I'd know what that looks like in real life. Just TV.

"It looks like a jail," Micky said, reading my thoughts.

"Uh-huh."

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

"Are you?" I retorted.

"Shit yes," she choked out.

I turned to face her. She was already crying. I covered her hand that rested on the table with both of mine. "We'll be okay, Mick—promise."

Then the doors opened and she walked in. A nurse followed but stayed in a seat next to the door. Micky gasped the same time Megan's steps faltered.

She was worse than in her picture.

"Is that her?" Micky whispered, turning her head to me.

"Yes."

"Shit."

"Mikayla," Megan greeted. Her voice came out hoarse, like she smoked two packs a day. Then she looked at me. "Bro." She tried to smile, but she couldn't.

She looked old. Her skin sagged on her face and she had blood spots all over her face. Her hair looked dead on top of her head, she had bags under her eyes and her cheeks were hollowed out from how ski

"Meth?" I asked her.

"Wi

For a second I wanted to get Micky on her feet and get her the fuck out of there. I'd seen that face on other people before. Hell, I lived with those kinds of faces—but Micky—I don't know that she'd be able to deal.

"Megan," Micky whispered.

Megan's eyes went from me to Micky, and it was instant. Whatever emotion she was trying to hide disappeared the moment her eyes locked on her best friend. Her body slumped and a sob took over. "You're not supposed to see me like this," she said through a cry.

"Megan," Micky sighed. She reached her hand over and tried to hold Megan's, but she pulled it away, coming to a stand. The nurse stood too.