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He cleared his throat. “We need to clear some things up first.”

“Like?”

“Well, for starters, I never did drugs.” He sighed heavily. “I mean, I did them, but mostly just to have something to do. I’ve never been addicted to anything.” He tipped his head back and forth. “Well, nothing pharmaceutical.”

The table went wild, and he started laughing and then turned in his seat to face me.

“Fuck them,” I told him. “Just look at me and tell me.”

Noise raged around us, and he opened his mouth to try to speak, but I couldn’t hear him. He could barely hear himself.

“Shut up!” I roared, standing up fast and overturning my chair, which brought the room to a sudden hush. “If you all can’t give him the courtesy of letting him speak, we’re leaving right fuckin’ now.”

No one said a word.

Slowly, I gazed at each of them, one after another. I finally returned my full attention to Landry as I picked up my cushioned chair and sat back down beside him. “Go ahead.”

He released a deep breath. “Okay, see, I hated this place. I hated them.” He gestured at his parents. “I hated the rules and the restrictions, and so I tested and pushed to see what would happen, how far I could go.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Nothing worked.” He shrugged. “I mean, Trev, I stole and I left vials of coke in my gym bag and left joints in my dad’s Jag and nothing. No one said a fuckin’ word to me.”

I nodded. Limits I understood. Landry needed a very tight leash or he didn’t feel loved.

“I was a rich spoiled brat, and I know that now, but still….” He shrugged. “No one gave a shit what I did, where I went, who I saw; no one. So I escalated it. I stole and I had raging parties and I got drunk and crashed the cars and still… nothing.”

“May I please interject,” his father barked at him.

We both turned to him.

“We cared, Landry. We tried to get you help and—”

“But you never said stop. You never said, ‘I’m gonna beat the shit outta you if you don’t cut this crap out.’ You never cared, Dad. You only cared when I got caught with Will in the stables, and you and his dad found us because I made sure you would.”

His father’s mouth hung open.

“Please,” Landry scoffed. “Do you have any idea how long I had sex with Will, Dad? All junior year, all summer, all senior year… we fucked like bunnies.”

I didn’t have to make everyone silent; they were all staring at him, completely dumbfounded, even Jocelyn. He had them all floored.

“But after that, after you saw us, after you had to apologize to his father, explain it to his mother, people at the country club—then it was different. Then I was crazy. Then I was addicted to drugs. Jesus, that shit was hysterical. I barely did any drugs. I mean, sure, some for recreation, but Trevan can tell you: I haven’t done any since he’s known me.”

All eyes on me.

“He hasn’t,” I assured them. “I don’t do them, he doesn’t do them. We’re too busy.”

He gestured at me as if to say “of course” and continued, “Yeah, exactly. Trev works, I work. I have a business. Drugs are too expensive and way too time-consuming.”

“But—”

“Dr. Armstrong,” he said, getting up, walking over to the man, standing over him. “Why did you think I was bipolar?”

He coughed. “You were manic, Landry.”

“Or I was just bored out of my mind.” He shrugged. “I mean, Trevan has cousins, you know, who sit and play video games, and they are just angsty, moody pieces of crap.”

“Agreed.” I nodded.