****
The next morning, when my head was clear, I realized what was going on. It had to be drugs. Those tracks on his arms. The unexplained disappearances. The voracious hunger upon his return. I’d heard Alby talk about getting ‘the munchies’ when stoned. And Cain had passed out both times after he got back from his mysterious absences. Having missed my three final years of high school I knew very little about drugs, but I did know that all these things could really only have one logical explanation. The guy was a junkie.
What sort of drugs he could be taking, I had no idea. Nor did I have a clue if the other three knew about it. Maybe they did drugs too, although they showed no signs of it. Not like Cain did, anyway. Drugs. I was circulating in a drug crowd. No, not a crowd, I told myself quickly. One person. One person who, for some unknown reason, utterly fascinated me. One person who, despite his probable involvement with illegal drugs―something that horrified and repulsed me―still drew my obsessive curiosity. What would my father say if he knew? I should just walk away from Cain and his peculiar little social circle.
The violence of my body’s reaction against this thought astonished me. Total aversion ... a feeling of dread so complete it was like I’d contemplated hacking off a limb. Okay. It looked like walking away wasn’t an option right now. Maybe Cain could be convinced to quit? Go into rehab or whatever. Wouldn’t Jude, Liz, and Owen want the best for their friend, too? A thought struck me: maybe they were already trying to help him. There were those quiet, secretive conversations before he went out, both times. Once with Owen, and then with Liz. Maybe they were his rehab sponsors or something. If they were, they didn’t seem to be doing a particularly good job. I went cold. Was it possible he was their dealer? Holy shit. Maybe this was a more dangerous situation than I’d thought.
I needed to talk to Jude.