Page 65 of All My Broken Pieces

I’m going to fail this class.

My stomach churns at the thought. I’ve never failed a class before, never gotten below a B, and even that was gym, so I’m not counting that one.

I gather up my things and trudge out of the classroom, the weight on my chest growing heavier. Glancing around the hall, I dart into an empty classroom and fumble with my bag. My fingers close over the metal and I release a sigh.

Pulling out the flask, I twist the cap and tilt my head back, taking long pulls of the liquor inside. My senses begin to dull and with it the anxiety lessens. After one more drink, I slip the canister back into my bag and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

I sneak back into the hall and stumble toward my next class, relishing in the warmth spreading through my body as the alcohol takes effect. By the time I slip into my seat, I have a smile on my face and it almost feels genuine.

Chapter 30

Fallon

“You know you don’t have to go, right?” Hudson asks, watching me carefully as I gather my things and slip on my shoes.

Sighing heavily, I fidget with my glasses and glance around to make sure I’ve gotten everything. “It’s not that simple and you know it.” He flinches at my harsh tone, adding guilt to my already overwhelming sea of emotions. Sighing again, I give him an apologetic smile as my phone dings, indicating our parents have arrived. “Look, I’m sorry. I just have to…” I gesture behind me, backing toward the door.

He nods, returning my smile with a sad one of his own. “Yeah, I get it. Just…” I almost don’t hear his words as I exit, apart of me wishing I hadn’t. “Don’t let them change who you are, Cher.”

My heart aches as I fly out of the small apartment and climb into my parents’ car waiting outside.

“Hi, sweetheart.” My mom greets, turning in her seat to smile at me. Her grin strains as she runs her gaze over my outfit.

I fidget under her judgemental gaze, curling into myself in an attempt to hide. Tsking lightly, she shifts in her seat with a shake of her head. I glance down, trying to find what she is so disapproving of, and come up empty.

I’m wearing a floral print, mid-length, spring style dress, the neckline a halter strap that dips between my breasts but more than covers my body. I had bought the dress just for today, knowing that my parents and their church always make a big deal about Easter Sunday.

Can’t do anything right.

I chew on my bottom lip as my dad indicates he’s pulling into traffic. The drive to church is full of mindless chatter, mostly provided by my mom while my dad and I offer the obligatory “hmm”s, “wow”s, and “really?”s. Honestly, I think she just likes the sound of her own voice, but I can’t tell her that.

My eyes meet my dad’s in the rearview mirror and he offers me a small smile that I try to return, but find my lips shake too much to make it a genuine one.

We pull into the crowded parking lot full of Sunday church goers. “Oh look, it's Olivia!” My mom cries, bouncing in her seat and nearly leaping from the car as soon as it’s in park. Peeking her head back inside, she shoots me a hard look. “I’m sure that means Logan is here, maybe you should apologize for your behavior.” I gulp in response, nodding my head robotically. Her smile in return is blinding as she shuts the door and walks toward her friend, waving her arm high above her head.

“She just wants what’s best for you.” My dad says from the driver’s seat, his eyes on his wife as she excitedly greets her friends.

I swallow what I really want to say, mumbling instead, “Yeah, I know.”

He looks at me again in the rearview mirror, reaching his hand back to lightly pat my knee. “We both love you very much, Fallon. And we’re so proud of you for returning to where you belong.” Without another word, he exits the vehicle, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Tears prick at my eyes as I replay their words in my mind, feeling the weight of the pressure to be their idea of aperfect daughter. Fumbling with my bag, I discreetly pull out the flask and untwist the cap, taking a couple swigs before stashing it away once more.

Full of liquid courage, I push open my door and climb out of the car, adjusting my clothes and hair as I mentally prepare myself for another few hours of hell.

Why do I keep doing this to myself?

Even as I ask the question, I know the answer. With Arriana gone, I’m too dependent on my parents. Not that I’d ever ask her to pay my way, but without her, my options are severely limited. Luckily for me, Hudson wanted to keep me around, so when Arriana’s condo was evicted I was able to move her things in with me and didn’t have to return to my parents’ home. But outside of that small freedom, they have almost total control of every other aspect of my life.

So I plaster on a fake smile and pretend my soul isn’t dying with each step toward the one place I don’t want to be.

“Hey, stranger.” A deep voice sounds behind me, startling me enough I jump. I clutch my chest in an attempt to calm down my racing heartbeat.

Turning around, I find Logan standing a few feet away, his easy going smile on his face helps ease some of the anxiety still churning inside me despite the alcohol dulling most of it. “Oh, um, hi.” I mumble, my cheeks reddening as I remember our last interaction.

His grin widens as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “My mom said you started coming again, but I didn’t really believe it until I saw you here.” His gaze travels down my body and the heat that blooms in his eyes has me wishing I had covered up more.

Suddenly the dress I’m wearing feels like I’m showingtoomuch, despite my earlier feelings.

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