The lights came on, and he saw Justin standing in his doorway, steaming with rage.
“W-what?” Izzy was so, so lost. “I don’t understand.”
Justin crossed the distance and stood over him. “We got a visit from your fucking friends, Izzy!” He took in a deep breath, then something changed in his expression. “Are you high?”
“Justin, come out of there. Give him room and let him come out here so we can all talk,” someone, probably Del, said from the common area.
Justin twitched, as if he was holding himself together by a thread, then marched out.
“You have one minute!” he tossed over his shoulder.
Izzy was still wearing his hoodie and his tin was on the bedside table. He had been wearing his ratty sweats, and probably had red eyes. Fuck. He looked like a fucking stoner.
Taking in a deep breath, he got to his feet and walked out of his bedroom to figure out what the fuck was going on. His friends? Wasn’t that what Justin had said? What time was it?