Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
Holden
Five years ago…
Ross and I were on the couch playing Call of Duty when I vaguely registered the sound of the front door opening. It was seven o’clock on a Tuesday and impressively, I had made it to class today.
Sure, I was in my gray sweatpants that I had slept in, but I made it.
Football practice, however, was a different story. It had been over a week since I’d been. And what was more notable, I didn’t miss going. I didn’t miss going to practice or games or being the star on the field.
Acting, on the other hand, I have missed like I was lacking a leg ever since we finished our performance last Saturday. McCay’s class had since been consumed by scene studies from various plays. And it seemed like she was purposefully keeping Katherine and I away from each other.
“Die fucker!” Ross shouted as he jumped out from behind a wall to shoot my character in the game.
“Goddammit,” I hissed, jamming my thumb into the button to try to defend myself.
With a victorious grin, he kicked his feet up on the coffee table, causing the eight empty bottles of beer to topple over with a loud clank.
As I leaned back on the plush, camel couch, the leather groaned in protest. Despite my efforts to keep a steady hand, my character continued to stumble across the screen.
“I’m officially drunk if you’re beating me at Call of Duty,” I admitted.
The pungent smell of marijuana filled the air as Ross took that moment to light a joint. The glowing cherry end of the rolled paper illuminated his face as he took a long, steady inhale. Holding it in his lungs for a beat, he closed his eyes and let the calming effects wash over him. When he finally exhaled, he held the joint out toward me. “Want a hit?”
I hesitated, considering the offer. Weed had never really been my thing, but seeing the way Ross drifted off into a state of tranquility when he smoked made me curious. I craved that sense of inner peace and detachment. I craved that sense of calm, that distant look in his eyes when he was high. But a part of me resisted, knowing that relying on drugs to numb my pain was a slippery slope and a line I wasn’t sure I was ready to cross. I already had an addictive personality and I was itching to smoke something ever since I gave up cigarettes for Kate.
Despite the temptation, I resisted with a shake of my head. “No thanks.”
“Have you two seriously not moved since I left for class at noon?” Duncan’s voice materialized behind me along with the slam of the front door.
It wasn’t until I looked over my shoulder that I realized Duncan was asking me, not Ross. I merely shrugged as Ross groaned and slid down further onto the couch, his eyes slowly blinking like he might fall asleep any minute. “Chill out dude. You’re not the guy’s dad. And you’re harshing our buzz.”
“Harshing your buzz?” Duncan repeated, a slight hint of disdain in his voice. “Do you hear yourselves?”
I put my hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say it, don’t blame me.”
“Coach was asking about you,” Duncan said, dropping his duffel bag on the floor near the front door.
“Really?” I snorted. “Funny since he’s the one who benched me.”
“He benched you because you haven’t been to fucking practice, Holden.”
“Whatever,” I grunted. “We both know that even without practice, I’m better than two thirds of the team.”
“You’re not going to be a part of the team if you keep this shit up,” Duncan muttered.
“Ross is right,” I said. “You’re sounding more and more like my dad.”
“Maybe this is one time your dad would be right.”
“Fuck you.”
Duncan's lips disappeared into a thin white line. With a sigh, he padded across the living room toward his bedroom. “I’m going to shower.”
Ross lifted his middle finger high into the air while bringing the joint to his lips with his free hand.
With a reckless shrug, I reached out and took the joint from his outstretched hand. Why not? The air was thick with a pungent, acrid smoke that made me feel like I was floating on a cloud. The strong scent of marijuana lingered in my nose, making it hard to focus on anything else. But I didn't care; in this moment, nothing else mattered except the feeling of pure bliss and freedom that washed over me with each drag.
A sudden smack jolted my shoulder and I awoke, disoriented. Blinking against the harsh light, I saw that another two hours had passed and my phone was ringing insistently. The sound pierced through the peaceful silence and dragged me back into reality. My body felt heavy and sluggish as I fumbled for my phone, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, pot, and beer.
As I lifted my heavy eyelids, I saw the harsh blue light of my phone screen in front of me. My eyes were red and blurry, still struggling to focus after being immersed in a cloud of smoke. I lifted my phone to my ear and answered it. “Hello?” My mouth was dry and sticky, like I had been chewing on cotton balls in my sleep.
“Holden!”
“Katherine?” I asked, my voice was so raw and scratchy from the smoke and I could barely swallow, let alone speak.
“I did it!” she squealed. The sound of her voice pierced through the air like a needle, high-pitched and shrill. My head throbbed in response, my hangover amplified by the combination of alcohol and pot. In that moment, I regretted every sip and puff from the night before. The sharpness of her voice was like a warning sign, a reminder to avoid mixing substances in the future. But for now, I couldn't escape the pounding headache and queasy stomach brought on by my poor choices.
“You did what?”
“I called Mr. James and he set up an audition for me in New York!”
“Katherine, that’s fucking incredible. Congratulations!”
“He said that he can cover the airfare and hotel room for me!”
I sat straight up, ignoring the grating slam of blood rushing in my head. “He… he’s paying for your travel?”
“Yeah, I thought it was strange too, but he said it’s common when there’s a new talent that can’t afford the trip.”
Warning bells rang off in my head, but I wasn’t sure how reliable my judgment was at the moment between the beer and pot. Instead, I rubbed my fingers into my eye sockets. “My dad has a townhouse in New York… what if I come visit with you while you’re there? We can make a fun birthday trip out of it for you.”
“You’d do that?” she asked, her voice softening, sounding touched.
“When are you going to learn… for you? I’d do just about anything.”