Page 54 of Bad Man on Campus

Her commanding no-nonsense voice stirs me, pulls whatever bravery I have in me to the surface and I yank open the door and get inside.

“Thank you.” I can’t smile because I’m afraid of hurling any second. Instead I shove my head out the window just in case as she pulls away.

Thank god she’s not a talkative woman.

Chapter 16

Glory

After classes, I get ready for practice, knowing Madelyn is going to be there and dreading it. I could quit, but I’m not a quitter. It’s the one thing worse than self-pity. Quitting would be like giving up on myself.

I look at my closet door. Taking a deep breath, I open it and reach for the brown paper bag in the corner. It’s my last stash of nips. I promised Kace I’d get rid of the nips from my bag, that I’d stop drinking for courage because I don’t need it when I can rely on him.

But he’s not here now and Madelyn is a scary nutcase. Besides, she’s madder at him than me so I need this extra courage to defend him.

I reach inside and take out the little nip of Jack Daniels. It’s stronger than the liqueurs I’ve been drinking, but if there was ever a need for something strong, this is it.

The mirror catches my attention and I see myself clutching the two little bottles of JD. It’s not a pretty picture. It’s sad. Pathetic. Loosening my hold on the bottles, I know if I drink these I’ll hate myself tomorrow. It’s the exact kind of thing everyone said last night at the meeting. If I take two and down one now, I’ll feel the warm tingle slide down to my belly and then light me up all over like an instant Christmas tree.

“No,” I say to my image, but I hold onto it as I walk out the door.

There’s nothing wrong with a drinking a little nip as long as I’m not driving.

I head in the direction of the field house when my phone rings, the sound coming from my bag

I answer the phone in a rush. It’s Mrs. Perini.

“Glory, sorry to call at the last second, but I need a big favor. You need to pick up the twins at day care for me and bring them to the house. I’ll leave the key under the mat—sorry to be so cliché.” She finally stops talking and my mind races.

“I have practice now. I’m sorry, I can’t pick them up.”

“That’s no problem, honey. You can take them to practice with you. They’ll love it.”

My coach won’t love it and I so don’t want to subject poor Beau and Belle to the likes of crazy Madelyn Fontaine.

“I don’t think—”

“I really need you or I wouldn’t ask,” She says, except I realize she’s not asking. Teetering on telling her what I think of her heavy-handedness, I stop myself because the idea of leaving Beau and Belle at the day care to wait alone with the director after hours cuts through to what’s important.

“Fine. I’ll pick them up. But I’ll have to Uber because I don’t have a car.” When I get there, I’ll borrow the day care’s wagon and haul them to the practice and then home. It’s over a mile all told, but I can manage. No other way around it.

Maybe driving is more necessary than I thought. Another good reason to stick with AA. Before I think better of it, I text Kace. Why? I don’t know. Because he’s at practice and won’t be able to pick me up. It’s a reflex to call him. Hell, I need to start relying on myself. That’s the whole point of getting my degree.

But Kace is my person, the one I’ve always relied on for help, the one who’s always been there for me since we were thirteen. Except for those three years after Sky died.

But I can hardly hold that against him, can I? I had a hard enough time forgiving myself without expecting him to forgive me right away. But now it’s different. He’s there for me now, but not right this minute. Not today.

And if I don’t get my act together with drinking, maybe he won’t be there for me tomorrow. Regret squeezes me until I force myself to take a long, deep breath. Then let it out slow, begging the universe for respite, for a chance at redemption.

How will you know when you’re redeemed, Glory?

I don’t know. I only know I’m not yet.

“Thanks, Glory. Whatever you need to do is fine. I owe you.” She ends the call and I don’t care about what she owes me. I care about what she owes her precious twins.

Running to the street, I catch a shuttle bus and swing into a seat on the half empty vehicle. My heart still pounds out of control, but I’m not sure if that’s from the ghost of Sky or Madelyn Fontaine. I feel the nip jiggle in my bag and I feel like throwing it out the window, anger making me clench my fist. I’ll ditch the evil little bottle in the first trash can I see.

Too bad the shuttle bus is even more dangerous than a car without toddler booster seats or I could take them home this way. But I don’t mind walking. The shuttle bus would probably take almost as long as walking with the wagon. I’m going to be so late to practice I may as well skip it, but I don’t want Coach or Madelyn to think I’m skipping out because of her or because I’m a poor sport.