Page 142 of Chaos

It feels so fucking good.

I see Caroline’s dad.

Not actually. He’s not really here. Or at least I don’t think he is. I’m pretty sure the surly figure in the corner, staring me down, is a figment of my imagination. A hallucination.

A drunken, malevolent reminder that I am nothing good.

I finish another glass of wine. I don’t feel good anymore. That rush of relief I felt when inebriation first sunk its claws into my consciousness, made everything feel fizzy and light and effortless, is gone. In its place, there’s… nothing. A hole. Anempty chasm that I don’t know how to fill, if not with more alcohol.

I glance at the corner again. At the man who may or may not be there—who isn’t there anymore, I realize with a frown. He left.

I should leave too. I need to leave. I think I try to leave, I think I tell my limbs to, but the limbs of someone else stop me. And even though I’m drunk enough to not have full control over my body, I’m drunk enough to hallucinate other people’s deadbeat fathers, I am not so intoxicated that I can’t muster up a snarl for the unfortunately very real ex lurking too close. Also too drunk. Too right as he slurs, “You know you don’t belong here.”

I do know that. I do not belonghere. But Ricky isn’t talking about this bar. “And how wouldyouknow that?”

“Because I know you.”

I laugh. Cackle like a damn witch. Sloppily slap my fucking knee at the hilarity, theaudacity.

“You think I don’t?” Ricky fumes. “You think that pussy-ass cowboy knows you better?”

Suddenly, impossibly, every ounce of alcohol in my veins is neutralized. “Don’t talk about him.”

“Fine. I win anyway.” At my confused glare, Ricky grins. “You’re here with me, aren’t you?”

“Because you threatened me, asshole.”

“Threatened?” He scoffs. “Please. You’ve never done anything you didn’t wanna do a day in your fuckin’ life,Charlotte. You’re here because you wanna be here.”

That’s not true. That can’t be true. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I?” A smirk sharpening his mouth, he leans in, too damn close for comfort. “You missed me, babe. I know you did. Just admit it.”

I try to move away, but there’s nowhere to go. Nothing but a wall against my back. No one around to help me. “Back off.”

He doesn’t. He does the very opposite.

And I don’t do a single thing to stop it.

34

It’s a small relief when she comes home alone.

It’s no relief at all when he watches her stumble towards the house.

It’s something he doesn’t have a word for when the first place she goes is to him.

It’s been a long,long time since I stumbled onto Serenity Ranch, drunk off my ass.

Even longer since I genuinely felt bad about it. Honestly, I’m not sure I ever really, completely did. There was always an inkling of guilt, but it was hidden beneath so much burning anger and resentment that it was never acknowledged. It never had a chance.

It isn’t a mere inkling tonight. It’s… everything. Everywhere. Simmering beneath my skin, embedded in my bones, as nauseating as the alcohol sitting heavy in my belly. I never wanted to sink to the floor in a shameful heap—I was rarely ashamed, full stop. I never thought I deserved whatever punishment I might get, never thought I’d earned it.

I never wanted to find my older sister waiting up for me, but I do now. As I slip inside the A-frame, I want to be greeted by her quiet disappointment, and isn’t it so damn ironic that I’m not. That all those times I tried to be so sneaky, I failed, and the one time I don’t, I’m met with nothing but a dark, empty living room. A quiet house. My unsteady footsteps are the only sound, echoed by wet sniffs and raspy breaths as I desperately try not to burst into tears.

I don’t deserve to cry. To feel sorry for myself. I made a choice. An ugly, wrong choice that I regretted the very second I made it, but that didn’t stop me, did it? It didn’t stop me from throwing back another drink, it didn’t stop me from doing exactly what Ricky wanted, it didn’t stop me from throwing away three months oftrying.

Because Iwastrying. Even if no one believed it, even if I couldn’t admit it. I wanted to be sober. I wanted to prove that I could; to prove everyone wrong.

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