Unraveled

The Trouble with Conditions

I couldn't remember the last time I had missed a church sermon. It hadn't been since I was a little kid and I'd been sick, if it had even been then.

I'd woken up in Jase's house just as Bible school was ending. Sasha was still passed out on the bed as I stumbled out of the room. I felt like shit and I knew that I had to smell even worse. The room was swimming in front of me, and I had to stop to puke twice before I made it to the steps.

Still, I made it past the passed-out people on the stairs and in the foyer. I stumbled down the driveway, puked in the neighbor's dying flowers, and made it behind the wheel of my car. I downed the rest of an old water bottle and put the car in drive.

I drove the slowest I had ever driven to the church. The road swam in front of me, and I kept having to stop to puke. My dad would be pissed that I was late, but he'd be even more pissed if I didn't show up at all.

After I parked at the end of the lot, I rummaged around in my trunk and managed to find some deodorant and cologne to cover up the smell of drugs and alcohol. I put in a couple of pieces of gum because there was no way just one was going to mask the smell of puke and the cigarette I'd smoked on the way to the church to make my hands stop shaking.

There was a mini bottle of tequila that Jase and I had bought to sneak into school. I twisted the top off and downed it, wincing as it burned and my stomach churned again. I took a deep breath and managed to fend off the puke.

I closed my trunk and stuffed my hands into my pockets as I hurried toward the church. I reached to open the door but had to dance backward as they were pushed open. The congregation began to stream out the doors, gathering in groups around the edge of the parking lot.

I slipped past them and walked up to my dad as he stood greeting the members. Some of them looked at me, a shocked look on their face before they regained their composure and gave me a tight smile. Some patted me on the arm as they walked past, a look of sympathy on their face. One of the older members of the church, a woman who made the best cookies, held onto my hand and told me that she was going to say an extra prayer for me.

Apparently, I hadn't hidden what I had been doing as well as I thought I had.

My dad didn't look at me until the congregation had filtered out. All that remained were a few of the elders. And my mother. She leaned against the back of a pew toward the front of the church. Her eyes had been on me the entire time; her face was hard to read.

"My office," Dad said under his breath.

I hung back for a moment, looking toward the windows. Colson stood there, a handful of church bulletins in his hands. Of course he had been able to make it on time.

I started toward my dad's office, having to pass Colson on the way.

Colson grabbed my arm as I tried to slip past him. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly. The elders were gathering at the front of the church. My mom had followed Dad into his office. "You don't look good at all."

"I'm fine," I told him as I looked down at him. "What do you care anyway?"

"I don't want you to end up dead."

"Well, I'm not, so just back off," I snapped. I pulled my arm from his grasp and walked to face whatever fate awaited me on the other side of the door.

Dad sat behind his desk while Mom leaned against the wall near the window. The curtains were pulled tight, making the room dark. The lighting had always been shitty in there. That was why my mom had always opened the curtains when she went into my dad's office.