“But this has to stop,” I told them, earnestly looking from one to the other. “What do you normally do when he’s like this?”
The noise of the rain fell over us like a wool blanket.
“Well?” I demanded, resisting the urge to slam my palms against the table.
Rian lifted his distant blue eyes to me from the lip of his teacup.
Mason pinched at the bridge of his nose. “We haven’t seen him like this before.”
I blinked. Never?
“And you’re not going to do anything?” I asked. “What if something’s wrong?”
Rian glanced at Mason, then he said, “Look, Aurnia. We might not know what to do. But we do know what not to do.”
The rain was deafening as I stared at the two of them in disbelief. I thought Conor was their best friend. I thought they were a family. It was like seeing a beloved vase, up close, was riddled with cracks.
“Really, Aurnia,” Mason said at last with a sad sigh. “This will all pass if you just let it. You know, dive beneath the wave until it passes over you or whatever.”
“Yeah,” I said flatly, staring moodily down into my own empty teacup.
Mason patted my shoulder. It didn’t make me feel any better. Later Rian left for the night and Conor took another pill, another swig. Later Mason left and then again: a pill, a swig. I was last to go.
Mason and Rian said I would make things worse, confronting Conor. They were probably right. I should probably go. Probably just hope tomorrow was better.
As I gathered my things and moved toward the door while the rain continued in whooshing torrents, I knew in my heart of hearts that I wasn’t going anywhere. I knew I wasn’t going to listen; I rarely did. Even if no one else would, I would face him.
Mason said the key was swimming beneath the wave. But it was Conor, not me, who needed to dive under.