"What are you doing?" she asked, hurrying to his side. He stumbled a bit and she reached out to steady him.
"I have to piss."
"Charming," she deadpanned as he shook off her grip and clutched at the living room wall for support. She had visions of him falling in the bathroom and cracking his skull open, so she trailed him down the hallway until they reached a closed door at the end.
He saw her behind him and leaned heavily against the door frame. "Wanna watch, nurse?"
"Just hurry up. But if I hear you fall, I'm bursting in."
Maddie thought he mumbled, "No need."
Then he lumbered into the surprisingly neat bathroom and started unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans without closing the door.
She watched, dazed and confused, as he pulled down his black boxer briefs. And then all the blood rushed to her face in one dizzying heartbeat as she glimpsed flesh.
Maddie yelped and swung around so fast that she almost tripped over her own feet. Her eyes were wide as she listened to him do his business.
"I think I need help," he slurred, an odd tone in his voice that she'd never heard before. It was almost … teasing? Caleb Montgomery was teasing her?
She managed to choke out, "Do not talk to me while you're peeing."
A few moments later, she heard him zip up his jeans and flush the toilet. Figuring it was safe to turn around, she told him, "Wash your hands," when he tried to escape out of the bathroom.
"Jesus," he muttered, but turned to the sink, swaying. She couldn't quite look him in the eye and her gaze strayed to his zipper. Gulping, she realized he hadn't buttoned his jeans and she could see the band of his briefs peeking out.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she forced herself to look at the empty wall of the hallway. When he was done, she followed him silently back to the living room. She noticed they passed multiple closed doors along the way and asked, "Don't you want to sleep in your bedroom?"
"No." As though to emphasize his point he collapsed onto the couch.
"Do you always sleep here?"
He grunted something and she sighed, pushing his legs off one end of the couch so she could sit down.
"You don't have to stay," he murmured, eyes closed. "I'm fine."
Maddie was still worried about him and could see that even though he was more communicative, he was far from sober. As if on cue, he mumbled, "Fuck," and shot off the couch, hurrying down the hallway.
Maddie bit her lip when she heard retching sounds. She ventured towards the bathroom, figuring that it was for the best that he was throwing up. At least it would get some of the alcohol out of his system.
She found him hunched over the toilet bowl, leaning his head against his forearm, which was draped across the white porcelain.
This was not how she thought she'd spend her Sunday night, taking care of a completely hammered Caleb.
Maddie touched his back and he flinched away. "Don't fucking touch me," he hissed and she was so surprised at the venom in his tone that she slowly backed away.
"I'm just trying to help you, Caleb," she told him, trying to stay calm.
"I don't need your help."
"Well, forgive me for disagreeing," she snapped back, annoyance rising. "You're not okay, Caleb. You're more than drunk. I'm just trying to make sure you feel better because that's what I'd want someone else to do for me if I were in your situation."
"I don't need anyone."
The sad part was that Maddie knew he believed it. Besides his friends, did Caleb have anyone that truly loved him? Brian, of course, cared in his own way, but what about family? From what she'd heard from Thomas, Caleb's parents hadn't been in the picture for years. Were they dead? And his uncle had just passed away. Who was left?
Possibly no one.
"Everyone needs someone," she said softly, reaching past him to snag some toilet paper so he could wipe his mouth.
After he flushed and rinsed with mouthwash, he leveled her with a half-lidded gaze. "Why do you care so much?"
"Because I care about you," she told him honestly.
He looked away. "You shouldn't."
He leaned heavily against the side of the sink and Maddie whispered, "Why do you think that? Why are you any less deserving of being cared for than others?"
"You don't understand."
"So make me understand," she pleaded.
"I'm … " he waved an uncoordinated hand in the air, almost knocking down his stick of deodorant. "I'm … "
"You're what?"