I need you

"We had sex, did some more coke, and broke open the bottle of gin I had stored in my kitchen. I have no idea what happened, but the next thing I knew I was freaking out." Clay took another deep breath, running his hands through his dark curls over and over again.

"I remember smashing the mirror in my bathroom. And Lacey was just sitting there in her underwear, on my couch, doing lines as I'm tearing the apart ment apart. Then the hurricane in my head just stopped. Next thing I knew, I had a piece of glass in my hand from the mirror and I was cutting my arm. Then my chest. Then my wrists." He turned his hands over and showed me two deep scars, one on each wrist.

"Lacey must have come into the bathroom and seen all the blood. I heard her start screaming, but I was way past caring. The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital room, my hands strapped to a bed and my parents looking at me with absolute disgust. You see, my little issue ruined their dinner party. Was quite an embarrassment for them." I was shaking by the time he finished. Whatever I had thought was going on with Clay, this was the furthest thing from it. This guy had been to hell and back.

Clay opened the drawer at his bedside table and pulled out a bottle of pills, tossing them to me. I caught them and read the label. LITHIUM. I shook the bottle.

"You take these?" I asked.

Clay nodded. "I was hospitalized in Miami General's psych unit for ninety days. After that, my parents shipped me up here to stay with my mom's sister, Ruby. I hadn't had much to do with her over the years. She's not close with my mom anymore, particularly after she came out and got together with her girlfriend, Lisa. But she is the complete opposite of my parents. She actually gave a shit and offered her home to me. She and Lisa are the closest things to parents that I've ever had."

I was relieved to hear that at least someone had cared about him.

"When I was in the hospital, the legion of psychiatrists diagnosed me with bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder. They prescribed me lithium for the bipolar. It's supposed to help with the... swings. But therapy is supposed to be the only thing that helps with my other problems," Clay sneered, obviously unconvinced this was what he needed. I ignored that minefield and opted to focus on the other part of his statement.

"The swings?" Bipolar disorder? Borderline personality disorder? I had no idea what he was talking about. "Yeah, my manic swings. I go through major extremes in my mood. You know, happy one minute, depressed and suicidal the next. I suffer from rapid cycling. My mood swings are severe and hard to control and come on really close together. But a lot of that also has to do with the borderline issue. The chemical imbalance in my brain is one thing, but the crazy behavior extremes are some- thing else entirely. Which is why I turned to drugs, according to my shrink. I wanted some sort of control over what I was feeling all the time. That's also why I cut. It's so strange to know the textbook explanation of why I'm doing things while having no control over doing them."

I put the bottle of pills on his dresser and crossed my arms over my chest. This was a lot to absorb. I was in information overload. If I'd wanted to run the other way last night, that was nothing compared to the need to get the hell out of there that I was feeling now.

But what kind of friend would that make me if I bailed when he was finally sharing so much with me, even though it was scary and dark? If this were Rachel or Daniel, would I turn my back on them? I immediately knew that I wouldn't. And, as I looked at Clay, my heart filled with love for him. Because, despite all that he had just told me, it didn't change my feelings for him. Not one bit. I would stay, I would be there, and I wouldn't run like a coward.

"Does the lithium help?" I asked him, coming to sit beside him on the bed. Letting him know with my body language that I wasn't going to leave just because he'd unloaded some heavy shit in my lap. Besides, I had asked him for it.

"It does, I suppose, but I hate taking it. I feel like a fucking zombie on that stuff. Like I can't feel anything. I'm just numb. I guess I'd rather be crazy than not feel anything at all," he said. His answer scared me. So was he not taking his meds? Is that what had caused his psycho turn last night? "But it's dangerous not to take your medication, right? I mean, is that why... you know... last night happened?" I didn't know how to word what I wanted to say. I was swimming in very deep waters here.

"I know that, Mags. I know I need to take them. But I just wanted to feel nor- mal for once. To be a normal teenager. To have fun. Hang out with people who didn't know anything about me or only wanted to use me for what I could give them. I wanted to feel what it was like to kiss you for the first time without being sucked into a medicated fog."

Oh. "But you need them. Last night was bad. I can't stand seeing you do that to yourself," I said quietly. I turned my body on the bed until I was facing him. He looked at me and rested his forehead against mine. "And I want to kiss you too, more than anything. But not when you're like this." I watched Clay's shoulders sag with the rightness of what I was saying.

Because, as much as I wanted to take that step forward in our relationship, he needed me as a friend more. As much as that freaking sucked. Clay cupped my cheek in his hand. "I am so tired of being this way. I just want it to stop. I want to be a guy you aren't afraid to be around."

I leaned my face into his hand and kissed his palm. "Then take your meds, Clay. I won't watch you destroy yourself over some ridiculous idea that those pills make you less than who you are. You need them. And I need you... as my friend."

That was really hard to say. Because it was such a lie. But he didn't need his life complicated by a new relationship. He needed my support without the added issue of the girlfriend-boyfriend thing. And I needed to wrap my head around all that he had just revealed, and what it potentially meant for any future between us.

Clay's mouth rose on one side in a half smile. "As a friend, huh?" he asked, his eyes questioning me.

I nodded, pulling away a bit. "Yes, as a friend. Because you've become one of my best friends, Clay." It really blew, being selfless.

"Okay, then." Clay got up and picked up the bottle. Shaking out two pills, he put them in his mouth and swallowed them without water. "There. Problem solved," he said nonchalantly, opening his mouth to show me he had indeed taken the pills. I smiled halfheartedly. I seriously doubted a few tiny pills could solve all his problems. But it was a start.