Mom kept trying to feed me. My stepfather, Scott, kept
trying to ask questions about my visit with Dad. My
big sister, Leigh, wanted to talk about her new girlfriend,
and my little brother, Jake, kept going on about soccer.
It didn’t take long to figure out I was in serious trouble.
Not the Kind of Trouble
You might think I’m
talking about. I was pretty
sure I could get away with
B.S.ing Mom and Scott.
I’d always been such a good
girl, they wouldn’t make the
jump to “bad” too quickly.
Especially not if I stayed cool.
I wasn’t worried about
getting busted at school
or on the street. I’d only just
begun my walk with the monster.
I still had meat on my bones,
the teeth still looked good.
I didn’t stutter yet. My mouth
could still keep up with my brain.
No, the main thing I worried
about was how I could score
there, at home. I’d never even
experimented with pot, let alone
meth. Where could I go?
Who could I trust with my
money, my secrets? I couldn’t
ask Leigh. She was the prettiest