Never Call Me When You're Sober Novels & Stories

-Yes-. " Swat , please tell me. " “Justin, I don't know how to phrase this without being disrespectful or insensitive, but I've never met a recovering addict and I just don't think my lifestyle supports it. Your life is chaotic and you told me so. New York was not the place to be sober. Backstage, in the crowd, at awards shows and after parties, as well as among my peers when we have free time, there is drinking. Because my life is so bad , I can't help the fact that I'm going to have to drink near you. In no way, shape, or form do I wish to jeopardize your sobriety.

"At school or at work, I don't care where. Just bring them. Okay?" I swallowed the lump in my throat and shifted in bed. "Okay." The line went dead. He had ended the call, leaving me staring at my phone in disbelief. It was the first time in days he had reached out to me—and he had been completely sober.

“I don’t know. Confront her? Walk away? Everything is coming apart and I’m just … tired.” “Hey, brother,” Derrick said, patting my shoulder strangely. “You’ve been through worse. She’ll come around. You might try talking to her when you are sober next. Let’s see what Kael’s angle is, we can get further into him, right? You’re not alone in this.” I heard his voice drift as sleep swept over me, the bourbon dragging me under. With a sigh and my eyes closed I let the bottle fall to the floor. We slipped as we fell asleep blowing away words.

"What were you thinking of doing, don't do it. I've been there before we've all been there. I think we take after our father in terms of addiction and substance abuse but I want to change. I want to be a better person and I know that you do want to be a better person. Pia will pull through and she will be okay." "How do you know what I'm thinking of doing and how is it that you think that I want to do what you think that I want to do yes I feel like drinking yes I feel like just taking off the Earth according my supplier but I'm not going to do it the moment I walked away from my uncle and our father I lost any and all privileges where my supplies are concerned so no I will not be snorting t

"You were a late-bloomer, but I'm pretty sure you had your goddamn balls. They dropped when you were a freaking baby." "Either way, we are no longer kids." "That's for damn sure." "Yup," Caleb smacks his tongue against the back of his mouth, producing this "ta-ta-ta" sound; some habits never die. "So, have there been more unsuspecting victims you've called or just me?" "No, this is my first-time drunk dialing." "Ah, there is always a first time for every serial caller. Do you feel the adrenaline pumping? That's how you know it will happen again."

he said, dropping his hand on mine. I knew he was referring to my drug sobriety. Clearly my alcohol sobriety wasn’t working out. But he had a point. If I didn’t get to see her again or get with someone else to get my mind right, I’d end up looking for another way to numb myself. That … can not happen. Ever. Never again.

I didn't even know what I was doing, which was so frustrating. “Why are you so nice to me? You keep giving me mixed signals, which annoys me so much.” I dropped my hands and tried to pick up another shot when he stopped me, because if I took one more, then I would definitely pass out. “We need to get you sober.”

The person at the edge of the pool finally spoke up. “You’ve offended somebody you shouldn’t have. That person has sent me to torment you.” Before I could say anything, I was tossed back into the water. It happened many times. Every time I felt like I was about to drown, I was lifted out of the water. Finally, I was left on the ground as my tormentor made a phone call. “It’s done, boss.” I could hear Connor on the other end of the line. “Leave immediately. I’ll deal with the rest of it.”

“There’s a twist.” I took a sip of the drink. “Grape juice?” I was expecting wine and finding the soft, sweet tang of something non-alcoholic. He nodded. “Yeah. I’m off the drinks for now. I need to be sober twenty-four-seven.” “Because of the mines?” I asked, tilting my head. “Not just that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “The office. The team. Everything. I can’t afford to slip anymore. And honestly, the drinks were starting to slow me down.”

A message from an unknown number. You should have drunk it yourself. Next time, I won’t miss.