Fallout

Resolve

All he had to do was play it cool, Riley told himself repeatedly, as though every time he said the words it charmed them closer to being true. He needed to make it seem like he didn't care one way or the other what happened, and then his Mom would be none-the-wiser about just how much his entire fragile network of happiness relied on getting a refill.

The timing felt right, the atmosphere calm and on the positive leaning of neutral. No tantrums from the increasingly independent Andy. No arguments from Audrey. No messes left behind by Matt. If anything, this was a better evening in the McGrath family than usual.

This is your chance. Don't fuck it up. Don't let her know how much you need it.

His Mom was in the front den space, a more formal usually meant for entertaining guests instead of fulfilling the needs of a family with four children. A book sat open-faced in her lap, but she only looked like she'd read a few pages. Riley nearly wanted to back out of his plan, chastising himself viciously for interrupting her far-and-few-between minutes of peace and quiet.

But she noticed his lurking presence in the doorway before he could scuttle away undetected.

"Hey Ri, how are you sweetheart?" Well, at least she didn't sound annoyed by his interruption, Riley mused. He rocked back and forth between the heels and balls of his feet, the nerves and restlessness needing an escape.

"Fine," came his simple, short response, at which he cringed. The least he could do was sound friendly, but Riley never was one to perform well under anxiety-riddled situations.

"Did you need something?"

At the unarmed prompt, Riley opened his mouth to recite the practiced script he'd composed while he should have been taking notes in his economics class. Yet as much as he wanted the words to fall out of his mouth with an easygoing confidence that belonged to someone better than himself, they all clogged up in his throat at once.

So much for playing it cool. She gave you the exact opening you were looking for and you froze like a jackass. Did you really think you could act like a normal kid long enough to deceive your Mom into giving you more drugs? Come on Riley, she's waiting for you to say something. SAY SOMETHING. Anything!

With the bitter turmoil swirling in his chest, Riley remained paralyzed. It took his Mom adjusting her relaxed position on the loveseat to make room for a second and telling him to come sit down to make him feel like his heart was beating again, that his blood had unfrozen.

His feet moved under something other than his own autonomy and the next time he blinked, Riley was situated on the couch next to his Mom, with her looking at him with all the love and concern he'd always dreamt of having.

"Tell me what's going on Ri," she said, pushing a rogue tuft of hair back from his forehead.

It was hard for Riley to not melt under her tender affection, and like an icy current melting in the spring, the blocked words flowed naturally.

"I need another refill on my medicine. Can you call the doctor for me?" Sharon's visible confusion agitated Riley and the critical voices started a low thrum within his ears. His request was so simple, so casual compared to his body language that radiated fear and timidity.

Still, he fixed his face into the easy hopefulness of asking for something simple, like orange juice from the grocery store, or whether she could wash his favorite sweatshirt.

"I think that was your last refill Riley." She replied with the same ease in which he'd asked before dog-earing her page and closing her book.

"Dr. Willem was hesitant to give you the last refill, remember?" His mom had turned toward him, speaking with more intention now. Riley hoped her question was rhetorical, because his tight throat and pinched face couldn't have responded without disclosing the depth of his upset.