Chapitre 32: Chapter 32

Alex pushes a driving license—provisional—into Ryan’s hand. The face of someone—anyone, but the claim is that it’s James Hall, just turned nineteen—stares up at him, and he looks close enough to Ryan that it might work. If it doesn’t, Ryan doesn’t know what happens next, and he doesn’t ask.

“Hey!” the boy yells after them. Alex stops, but doesn’t turn; Ryan does, and the boy cocks his head. “Does he ever talk to you?” he asks.

“What?” Ryan asks.

“Alex,” the boy replies, and snickers. “Does he ever talk to you?”

Alex starts walking again.

“Not much!” Ryan yells back, and the boy snorts again.

By the time he catches up to Alex, the paper bag is out again, and white pills glimmer at the bottom of it, nestled in the brown like bird’s eggs. Alex doesn’t offer, and Ryan doesn’t ask; two pills vanish, easy as aspirin, and Alex takes a deep breath.

“What are they?” Ryan asks.

Alex shrugs, and puts the paper bag away.

* * * *

It’s the drink, Ryan tells himself.